Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most - by Douglas Stone
Date read: 2021-10-27How strongly I recommend it: 9/10
(See my list of 150+ books, for more.)
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Great book for anyone wanting to improve their skills at communicating, especially in difficult conversations.
Contents:
- THREE CONVERSATIONS
- WHAT HAPPENED? CONVERSATION
- IDENTITY CONVERSATION
- THE OTHER STORY
- BLAME
- FEELINGS
- DIFFICULT CONVERSATIONS CHECKLIST
My Notes
Delivering a difficult message is like throwing a hand grenade. Coated with sugar, thrown hard or soft, a hand grenade is still going to do damage. Try as you may, there’s no way to throw a hand grenade with tact or to outrun the consequences. And keeping it to yourself is no better. Choosing not to deliver a difficult message is like hanging on to a hand grenade once you’ve pulled the pin.
In fact, the gap between what you’re really thinking and what you’re saying is part of what makes a conversation difficult. You’re distracted by all that’s going on inside. You’re uncertain about what’s okay to share, and what’s better left unsaid. And you know that just saying what you’re thinking would probably not make the conversation any easier.
Working to keep negative information out during a difficult conversation is like trying to swim without getting wet. If we’re going to engage in difficult conversations, or in life for that matter, we’re going to come up against information about ourselves that we find unpleasant.
Each Difficult Conversation Is Really Three Conversations:
Feelings are not some noisy byproduct of engaging in difficult talk, they are an integral part of the conflict. Engaging in a difficult conversation without talking about feelings is like staging an opera without the music.
Difficult conversations are almost never about getting the facts right. They are about conflicting perceptions, interpretations, and values. They are not about what a contract states, they are about what a contract means.
They are not about what is true, they are about what is important.
In contrast, the quest to determine who is right and who is wrong is a dead end. In the “What Happened?” Conversation, moving away from the truth assumption frees us to shift our purpose from proving we are right to understanding the perceptions, interpretations, and values of both sides.
We assume we know the intentions of others when we don’t. Worse still, when we are unsure about someone’s intentions, we too often decide they are bad.
People’s intentions, like so much else in difficult conversations, are complex. Sometimes people act with mixed intentions. Sometimes they act with no intention, or at least none related to us. And sometimes they act on good intentions that nonetheless hurt us.
Most difficult conversations focus significant attention on who’s to blame for the mess we’re in. But talking about fault is similar to talking about truth — it produces disagreement, denial, and little learning. It evokes fears of punishment and insists on an either/or answer. Nobody wants to be blamed, especially unfairly, so our energy goes into defending ourselves.
Talking about blame distracts us from exploring why things went wrong and how we might correct them going forward. Focusing instead on understanding the contribution system allows us to learn about the real causes of the problem, and to work on correcting them.
Before, during, and after the difficult conversation, the Identity Conversation is about what I am saying to myself about me.
Instead of wanting to persuade and get your way, you want to understand what has happened from the other person’s point of view, explain your point of view, share and understand feelings, and work together to figure out a way to manage the problem going forward.
We don’t see ourselves as the problem because, in fact, we aren’t. What we are saying does make sense. What’s often hard to see is that what the other person is saying also makes sense.
We assume the collision is because of how the other person is; they assume it’s because of how we are. But really the collision is a result of our stories simply being different, with neither of us realizing it.
Telling someone to change makes it less rather than more likely that they will. This is because people almost never change without first feeling understood.
To get anywhere in a disagreement, we need to understand the other person’s story well enough to see how their conclusions make sense within it. And we need to help them understand the story in which our conclusions make sense.
Often we go through an entire conversation – or indeed an entire relationship – without ever realizing that each of us is paying attention to different things, that our views are based on different information.
When you find yourself in conflict, it helps to make your rules explicit and to encourage the other person to do the same. This greatly reduces the chance that you will be caught in an accidental duel of conflicting rules.
There’s only one way to come to understand the other person’s story, and that’s by being curious. Instead of asking yourself, “How can they think that?!” ask yourself, “I wonder what information they have that I don’t?” Instead of asking, “How can they be so irrational?” ask, “How might they see the world such that their view makes sense?” Certainty locks us out of their story; curiosity lets us in.
Don’t choose between the stories; embrace both. That’s the And Stance.
Don’t worry about accepting or rejecting the other person’s story. First work to understand it. The mere act of understanding someone else’s story doesn’t require you to give up your own. The And Stance allows you to recognize that how you each see things matters, that how you each feel matters. Regardless of what you end up doing, regardless of whether your story influences theirs or theirs yours, both stories matter.
Sometimes people have honest disagreements, but even so, the most useful question is not “Who’s right?” but “Now that we really understand each other, what’s a good way to manage this problem?”
When we’ve been hurt by someone else’s behavior, we assume the worst.
What’s ironic — and all too human — about our tendency to attribute bad intentions to others is how differently we treat ourselves. When your husband forgets to pick up the dry cleaning, he’s irresponsible. When you forget to book the airline tickets, it’s because you’re overworked and stressed out.
When you find yourself thinking “That traffic cop is a control freak” or “My boss is manipulative” or “My neighbor is impossible,” ask yourself why this is your view. What is it based on? If it’s based on feeling powerless, fearing manipulation, or being frustrated, notice that your conclusion is based solely on the impact of their behavior on you — which is not a sufficient basis to be sure of someone else’s intentions or character.
It is useful to attempt to clarify your intentions. The question is when. If you do it at the beginning of the conversation, you are likely doing it without fully understanding what the other person really means to express.
Separating impact from intentions requires us to be aware of the automatic leap from “I was hurt” to “You intended to hurt me.” You can make this distinction by asking yourself three questions:
Once you have clearly answered these three questions, the next step is to make absolutely certain that you recognize that your assumption about their intentions is just an assumption. It is a guess, a hypothesis.
Remember that the accusation about our bad intentions is always made up of two separate ideas:
Don’t pretend they aren’t saying the first. You’ll want to respond to it. But neither should you ignore the second. And if you start by listening and acknowledging the feelings, and then return to the question of intentions, it will make your conversation significantly easier and more constructive.
Focusing on blame is a bad idea because it inhibits our ability to learn what’s really causing the problem and to do anything meaningful to correct it. And because blame is often irrelevant and unfair.
When we blame someone, we are offering them the role of “the accused,” so they do what accused people do: they defend themselves any way they can. Given what’s at stake, it’s easy to see why the dance of mutual finger-pointing often turns nasty.
By identifying what you are doing to perpetuate a situation, you learn where you have leverage to affect the system. Simply by changing your own behavior, you gain at least some influence over the problem.
Ask yourself, “What would they say I’m contributing?” Pretend you are the other person and answer the question in the first person, using pronouns such as I, me, and my. Seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes can help you understand what you’re doing to feed the system.
Step back and look at the problem from the perspective of a disinterested observer. Imagine that you are a consultant called in to help the people in this situation better understand why they are getting stuck. How would you describe, in a neutral, nonjudgmental way, what each person is contributing?
If you feel the focus is somehow on you alone, you can say so: “It’s not okay to look only at my contribution. That’s not reality as I see it. I feel like I’m trying to look at both of us. Is there anything I’m doing to make it hard for you to look at yourself?”
In addition to explaining what triggered your reaction, you should be prepared to say what you would have them do differently in the future, and explain how this would help you behave differently as well.
The problem is that when feelings are at the heart of what’s going on, they are the business at hand and ignoring them is nearly impossible. In many difficult conversations, it is really only at the level of feelings that the problem can be addressed. Framing the feelings out of the conversation is likely to result in outcomes that are unsatisfying for both people.
Feelings are very good at disguising themselves. Feelings we are uncomfortable with disguise themselves as emotions we are better able to handle; bundles of contradictory feelings masquerade as a single emotion; and most important, feelings transform themselves into judgments, accusations, and attributions.
Feelings are like arms or legs. If you hit or kick someone, then your arms or legs are causing trouble. But there’s nothing inherently wrong with arms or legs. The same with feelings.
In many situations, we are blinded to the complexity of our feelings by one strong feeling that trumps all the others.
Simply becoming familiar with the spectrum of difficult-to-find feelings may trigger a flash of recognition for you.
Before sharing feelings, then, it is crucial to negotiate — with ourselves.
First, we need to examine our own story. What is the story we are telling ourselves that is giving rise to how we feel? What is our story missing? What might the other person’s story be? Almost always, an increased awareness of the other person’s story changes how we feel.
Next, we need to explore our assumptions about the other person’s intentions. To what extent are our feelings based on an untested assumption about their intentions? Might the other person have acted unintentionally, or from multiple and conflicting intentions? How does our view of their intentions affect how we feel? And what about our own intentions? What was motivating us? How might our actions have impacted them? Does that change how we feel?
Finally, we should consider the contribution system. Are we able to see our own contribution to the problem? Are we able to describe the other person’s contribution without blaming? Are we aware of the ways that each of our contributions forms a reinforcing pattern that magnifies the problem? In what way does this shift how we feel?
Your feelings need not be rational to be expressed. Thinking that you shouldn’t feel as you do will rarely change the fact that you do. Your feelings, at least for the moment, are an important aspect of the relationship. You can preface their expression with an admission that you are uncomfortable with these feelings, or that you aren’t sure they make sense, but follow that preface by expressing them. Your purpose here is simply to get them out. You can decide what, if anything, to do about them later.
You can establish an evaluation-free zone by respecting the following guidelines: share pure feelings (without judgments, attributions, or blame); save problem-solving until later; and don’t monopolize.
Beginning with “I feel . . . .” is a simple act that carries with it extraordinary benefits. It keeps the focus on feelings and makes clear that you are speaking only from your perspective.
When we exaggerate, we act as if the other person’s feedback is the only information we have about ourselves. We put everything up for grabs, and let what they say dictate how we see ourselves.
There’s nothing wrong (and plenty right) with not wanting to hurt someone, or wanting them to like you even after you convey bad news. Yet holding this as a purpose in the conversation leads to trouble. Just as you can’t change another person, you can’t control their reaction — and you shouldn’t try.
When delivering bad news – indeed, in any difficult conversation – rather than trying to control the other person’s reaction, adopt the And Stance. You can come in with the purpose of letting your children know about the divorce, letting them know how much you love and care about them, letting them know that you honestly believe things will be okay, and giving them space to feel however they are feeling and letting them know their feelings make sense and are okay to feel. This gives you control over everything you can actually control (yourself), and gives them space to be honest in response.
Some people find asking for a break embarrassing. But postponing the conversation until you’ve regained your balance may save you from worse things than embarrassment down the road.
As you sort out your feelings or identify your contribution to a situation it may become clear that what’s called for is not a conversation about the interaction, but a change in your behavior. Sometimes actions are better than words.
They are more likely to change if they think we understand them and if they feel heard and respected. They are more likely to change if they feel free not to.
If you’re going to talk, talk. Really talk. And if you’re really going to talk, you can’t do it on the fly. You have to plan a time to talk. You have to be explicit about wanting ten minutes or an hour to discuss something that is important to you. You can’t have a real conversation in thirty seconds, and anything less than a real conversation isn’t going to help. If hit-and-run is all you can muster, it’s better not to raise the issue at all.
We define ourselves in relation to our conflict with others.
The gold standard here is working for mutual understanding. Not mutual agreement, necessarily, but a better understanding of each of your stories, so that you can make informed decisions (alone or together) about what to do next.
What information do they see that we missed or don’t have access to? What past experiences influence them? What is their reasoning for why they did what they did? What were their intentions? How did our actions impact them? What do they think we are contributing to the problem?
Step One: Begin from the Third Story: The Third Story is the one a keen observer would tell, someone with no stake in your particular problem. This means describing the problem between the parties in a way that rings true for both sides simultaneously.
The key is learning to describe the gap – or difference – between your story and the other person’s story.
In the Third Story there is no judgment about who is right or even whose view is more common. The Third Story simply captures the difference. That’s what allows both sides to buy into the same description of the problem: each feels that their story is acknowledged as a legitimate part of the discussion.
You can begin from the Third Story by saying, “My sense is that you and I see this situation differently. I’d like to share how I’m seeing it, and learn more about how you’re seeing it.”
Step Two: Extend an Invitation: I’ve described the problem in a way we can each accept. Now I want to propose mutual understanding and problem-solving as purposes, check to see if this makes sense to you, and invite you to join me in a conversation.
Sometimes the most genuine thing you can do is share your internal struggle to cast them in a more positive role. You can say something like, “The story I’m telling in my head about what is going on is that you are being inconsiderate. At some level I know that’s unfair to you, and I need you to help me put things in better perspective. I need you to help me understand where you are coming from on this.” It’s honest and, at the same time, offers them the role of “someone who can help me get my perspective back.” Be
Try replacing “I think I deserve a raise” with “I’d like to explore whether a raise for me might make sense. From the information I have, I think I deserve one. [Here’s my reasoning.] I wonder how you see it?” This seemingly small change in how you begin should not only reduce stress but also get the conversation off on an even keel. In the end, you may learn that you don’t deserve a raise, or that you deserve an even bigger one than you initially thought you did.
What to Talk About
- Explore where each story comes from “My reactions here probably have a lot to do with my experiences in a previous job. . . .”
- Share the impact on you “I don’t know whether you intended this, but I felt extremely uncomfortable when . . . .”
- Take responsibility for your contribution “There are a number of things I’ve done that have made this situation harder. . . .”
- Describe feelings “I’m anxious about bringing this up, but at the same time, it’s important to me that we talk about it. . . .”
- Reflect on the identity issues “I think the reason this subject hooks me is that I don’t like thinking of myself as someone who . . . .”
If your “stance” isn’t genuine, the words won’t matter. What will be communicated almost invariably is whether you are genuinely curious, whether you genuinely care about the other person. If your intentions are false, no amount of careful wording or good posture will help. If your intentions are good, even clumsy language won’t hinder you.
Perhaps surprisingly, our advice is not to turn off your internal voice, or even to turn it down. You can’t. Instead, we urge you to do the opposite – turn up your internal voice, at least for the time being, and get to know the kinds of things it says. In other words, listen to it. Only when you’re fully aware of your own thoughts can you begin to manage them and focus on the other person.
Remind yourself that if you think you already understand how someone else feels or what they are trying to say, it is a delusion. Remember a time when you were sure you were right and then discovered one little fact that changed everything. There is always more to learn. Remind yourself of the depth, complexities, contradictions, and nuances that make up the stories of each of our lives.
When you find yourself in this situation, let the other person know that you want to listen and that you care about what they have to say, but that you can’t listen right now. Often it’s enough to give a headline of what you’re thinking: “I’m surprised to hear you say that. I think I disagree, but say more about how you see it,” or “I have to admit that as much as I want to hear what you have to say, I’m feeling a little defensive right now.” With that on the table, you can get back to listening, knowing that you’ve signaled your difference and will get back to your view in time.
Rather than assuming that this is an argument they have ignored, assume that they have thought about it and have reason to tell a different story. You might say, for example, “I understand that you feel you did everything you could to make the sale. To me, that seems inconsistent with the fact that Kate made the sale right after you gave up. What’s your thinking about that?”
“Were you trying to do A or B?” Instead ask “What were you trying to do?” This way you don’t bias the answer or distract the other person’s thinking by the need to process your ideas.
Ask for More Concrete Information:
- “What leads you to say that?”
- “Can you give me an example?”
- “What would that look like?”
- “How would that work?”
- “How would we test that hypothesis?”
There’s no better place to begin your story than with what is at the very heart of the matter for you: “For me, what this is really about is . . . . What I’m feeling is . . . . What is important to me is . . . .”
As you embark upon a difficult conversation, ask yourself, “Have I said what is at the heart of the matter for me? Have I shared what is at stake?” If not, ask yourself why, and see if you can find the courage to try.
Paraphrasing the other person helps you check your understanding and helps them know you’ve heard. You can ask them to do the same thing for you: “Let me check to see if I’m being clear. Would you mind just playing back what you’ve heard me say so far?”
THEY SAY: I’m right, and there are no two ways about it!
YOU REFRAME: I want to make sure I understand your perspective. You obviously feel very strongly about it. I’d also like to share my perspective on the situation.
THEY SAY: You hurt me on purpose!
YOU REFRAME: I can see that you’re feeling really angry about what I did, which is upsetting to me. It wasn’t my intention. Can you say more about how you felt?
THEY SAY: This is all your fault!
YOU REFRAME: I’m sure I’ve contributed to the problem; I think we both have. Rather than focus on whose fault this is, I’d like just to look at how we got here – at what we each contributed to the situation.
THEY SAY: I am not a bad neighbor!
YOU REFRAME: Heavens, I don’t think you are either. And I certainly hope you don’t think I’m a lousy neighbor. I do think that we disagree about how this should be handled, and I think that’s pretty normal between good neighbors. The question is whether we can work together to figure out how to address both of our concerns.
I’ve noticed that we keep running out of time whenever we start talking about this. Maybe we should designate an hour when we can both really focus on this and address it then. I’ve tried to say what I was thinking three times now, and each time you’ve started talking over me. I don’t know whether you’re aware that it’s happening, but I’m finding it frustrating. If there’s something important about what you’re saying that I’m not understanding, please share it. And then I want to be able to finish what I’m saying.
Prepare by Walking Through the Three Conversations
- Sort out What Happened:
- Where does your story come from (information, past experiences, rules)? Theirs?
- What impact has this situation had on you?
- What might their intentions have been?
- What have you each contributed to the problem?
- Understand Emotions: Explore your emotional footprint, and the bundle of emotions you experience.
- Ground Your Identity: What’s at stake for you about you? What do you need to accept to be better grounded?
- Purposes: What do you hope to accomplish by having this conversation? Shift your stance to support learning, sharing, and problem-solving.
- Deciding: Is this the best way to address the issue and achieve your purposes? Is the issue really embedded in your Identity Conversation? Can you affect the problem by changing your contributions? If you don’t raise it, what can you do to help yourself let go?
- Describe the problem as the difference between your stories. Include both viewpoints as a legitimate part of the discussion.
- Share your purposes.
- Invite them to join you as a partner in sorting out the situation together.
- Listen to understand their perspective on what happened. Ask questions. Acknowledge the feelings behind the arguments and accusations. Paraphrase to see if you’ve got it. Try to unravel how the two of you got to this place.
- Share your own viewpoint, your past experiences, intentions, feelings.
- Reframe, reframe, reframe to keep on track. From truth to perceptions, blame to contribution, accusations to feelings, and so on.
- Invent options that meet each side’s most important concerns and interests.
- Look to standards for what should happen. Keep in mind the standard of mutual caretaking; relationships that always go one way rarely last.
- Talk about how to keep communication open as you go forward.