Ever since I wrote about Kevin Kelly’s “68 Bits of Unsolicited Advice,” I’ve been musing about what I would include if I were to assemble my own list of advice to young people. What lessons have I learned over the course of my life that not everyone might yet have learned?
I blogged last month about the first thing I came up with. Here’s number two:
It never works to make someone else wrong. Not ever.
Unfortunately, that statement doesn’t stand on its own because what it means to “make someone wrong” is not widely understood. It’s an idea I picked up from Landmark Education.
When someone says or does something that we disapprove of — something that makes us angry or resentful — our first reaction is to relate to that person as if it was wrong for them to do or say that thing. In two short hops we go from “I don’t like that” to “That’s wrong” to “You’re wrong.” We may not use the words “you’re wrong,” but we convey the sentiment. We attribute the fact that the other person did or said whatever it was to some character flaw in them.
Rarely do we question our own judgement about what they did, nor consider the possibility that they may be a well-meaning person who made a mistake. Rather, we consider ourselves the infallible arbitrator of whether what they did was or wasn’t OK, and we attribute their having done it to something wrong with them: they are ill-intentioned, or untrustworthy, or thoughtless, or mean, or stupid. The list goes on.
But the moment we react to someone from the assumption that they’re wrong, we put them on the defensive, they get angry, and our relationship with them is diminished. And we do that over and over and over, with strangers, acquaintances and loved ones.
So what’s the alternative to making someone wrong? Grinning and bearing it? No. It’s entirely appropriate, even important, to let someone know the impact that something they’ve said or done has had on us. It’s fine to say “ouch!” or words to that effect. But if we can catch ourselves before we reflexively attribute whatever they did to malice or some character flaw on their part, we can ask, why did you do that? And then really listen to the answer. We may or may not still disapprove of what they did, but we may find that the reason they did it was not at all what we presumed. And we may be able to distinguish between disapproving of what they did and disapproving of them. In short, responding to these situations with a commitment to learning something rather than a reflexive righteous indignation can foster communication, illuminate what’s really happening, and bring people closer together.
I’d like to say I’ve got this one mastered. But I’m not even close. I have a knee-jerk indignant streak, and am always inclined to presume that someone who has done something that offends me or hurts my feelings is guilty of either a deliberate provocation or inexcusable negligence. And that reaction always, always, always makes things worse rather than better. What I can claim is that I’m often able to recognize what I’ve done after the fact and apologize. The goal, of course, is to catch myself before I open my mouth. I’m sometimes able to do that, but nothing close to all the time. Fortunately, life keeps providing opportunities to practice.