Competing monologues do not constitute a dialogue
Ten days ago a delegation of about 15 people kept an arranged appointment with their local MP (Member of Parliament) at his electorate office, to voice their concerns about a current New Zealand Government initiative.
Each time the visitors spoke, he interrupted to explain and defend his Party’s position, or to rebut their concerns by deflecting talk to other issues, and telling speakers they were mistaken or uninformed.
I heard about this from one of the group, annoyed about what she regarded as the MP’s arrogant and disrespectful behaviour:
We aimed to make a dignified presentation of our position and all we wanted from him was evidence that he’d heard and understood it. He listened only to create an opening for his own views. His questions were disguised statements. He couldn’t get rid of us soon enough. We left with no confirmation that he’d actually heard us.
[It hadn’t helped that as the delegation arrived, the MP had begun eating his lunch sandwich, though he offered the visitors no refreshments. Getting Offside with the Constituents 101, I’d have thought.]
The MP had listened well enough to find opportunities to present his own position, but he was hearing impaired. He made a common error, the guidelines for which go something like this:
When faced with evidence of a difference in human perspective and values, first find opportunities to refute, contradict, point out the logical flaw and disprove the other’s position.
[Although I do not know for certain, it would be surprising if members of the delegation had not made the same error in the face of the MP’s own wish to be heard and understood.]
That kind of behaviour often lies behind intractable conflict with staff or between colleagues, and the “inability to get on with my manager”. It very quickly (a) inflames the original speaker who then assumes that to be heard, the intensity and volume of their argument must be increased; or (b) causes the speaker to abandon the dialogue in disgust or despondency.
Thus do simple differences of opinion become gaping divides, and disagreements transform into flaming rows.
Today I called my friend to ask how many people she had told about the MP’s “arrogance”. She estimated twenty at least, and knew of two others in the delegation who had told as many.
Let’s see: if 12 people in the delegation have each reported this to, let’s say 15 others . . . that’s 180. And if 125 of those have repeated the story to seven others . . . that’s 1,055 people (in 10 days so far) who were not at the original meeting but can now add this information to whatever other knowledge they have of this MP’s reputation.
All the MP needed to do to impress as many people favourably, and gain a reputation as someone with whom an open exchange of views is possible, safe and a respectful process, was question his visitors thoughtfully to clarify meanings, and accurately paraphrase their viewpoints to reflect and show complete understanding. It’s likely that they may then have been open to hearing his position. A constructive dialogue could then have ensued, not shut down.
I say “all that was necessary . . .” but I know from my interpersonal skills training work with managers and leaders over many years, that these are rare workplace skills. Far too many people don’t have them – or don’t use them when they’re needed. Happily, developing good practices is a simple matter. Simple but not necessarily easy, as hard work is usually required.
Could you benefit from a comprehensive interpersonal communication practices audit, or support to develop better listening skills? Visit this page at Thriving-Workplace.com to find out.
As a footnote, my friend reported that when she led a small delegation to a local Regional Authority a few days later, her party was received graciously, questioned thoughtfully, paraphrased accurately and promised feedback on the effects of their submissions. She named the officials, whose reputation for trustworthiness has thus been much enhanced.
It’s not rocket surgery.
