50 Psychology Classics (56 page)

Surely, though, there will be times when we know we are right, and the other person is wrong. Aren't we right if we try to stop our daughter from smoking? Perhaps, but in many situations being right is not the issue. Our daughter will know smoking is bad for her as much as we do—the conflict may be more about getting rid of her “good girl” image and becoming more independent. Once the daughter feels that her change in identity is understood, she may have no need to continue smoking.

Careful expression of feelings is a vital part of making difficult conversations productive. Stone, Patton, and Heen have many wise things to say on this, including:

If we try to suppress feelings, they tend to come out anyway through change of voice tone, body language, and facial expression.

We shouldn't confuse being emotional with the clear expression of emotions, such as “I feel hurt” or “I feel angry.” And do not translate feelings into judgments about the other person.

It is very hard for some people to begin a sentence or conversation with the words “I feel,” but saying them may make the other person really listen.

We shouldn't disavow the feelings we have—they are real. Be aware “that good people can have bad feelings.”.

Our feelings are as important as others' feelings. Yet when we deny their validity we can sabotage our relationships. For example, if we bury anger for our spouse, we will not be able to love them properly again until we express it.

Difficult conversations, the authors note, are a threat to our identity. Their scariness comes not only from us having to face an issue with another person, but facing up to the truth of “the story we tell ourselves about ourselves.” Self-image is actually hardwired to our adrenal response, which explains why we may feel a rush of anxiety or anger or a sudden desire to flee the scene.

If, for instance, we go to the boss to ask for a raise, and she says no on the basis that she has questions about our performance this year, our horror at being rejected can make us take either of two attitudes: defiance—we want to defend ourselves and our record; or exaggeration—the boss is right, we don't deserve a raise. Both responses involve “all or nothing” thinking. We are either a saint or the devil, excellent at what we do or incompetent. All or nothing thinking is a weak foundation for our sense of identity and makes us vulnerable to every little criticism. But this debilitating type of thinking, which particularly comes into play in difficult conversations, is not based on reality. Rarely are we one extreme or the other. These reactions oversimplify the world.

The answer is to “complexify” our identity—appreciate that while we may have come up short on some projects this year, on several others we were outstanding, and overall our performance is such that we believe we deserve a raise. Remember that difficult conversations are a fantastic opportunity to get closer to the truth, to become learning experiences without the usual emotional charge. Instead of going in there to deliver our message, “I want a raise,” in the context of the interview with our boss we can say, “I wonder if it would make sense if my salary was increased?” It's not a demand, so the boss does not become defensive, and we are not vulnerable to rejection either. We are both exploring, getting information about the situation, so whatever is the outcome neither will feel hijacked and at the very least we will have learnt something.

We have only touched on some of the issues and techniques raised in
Difficult Conversations
. It is a book to keep and refer to often whenever you have an important matter to raise with someone. Given that it was written by three people it flows well, and there are plenty of real examples to keep things interesting. One omission is the lack of a bibliography, even though the authors are clearly influenced by many thinkers who have gone before them.

The most refreshing aspect of
Difficult Conversations
is the absence of any manipulative techniques. Its aim is not to teach us how to psychologically trick people into agreeing to what we want, but to change the whole atmosphere of important encounters so that curiosity about each party's needs and desires leads to new appreciation and understanding. As wrong assumptions and blame are taken out of the equation, what is left is the truth.

Stone
is a lecturer on law at Harvard Law School and is a partner in Triad, a consulting firm specializing in leadership, negotiation, and communication. He has worked as a mediator in South Africa, Cyprus, Colombia, and Ethiopia, and consulted to the World Health Organization
.

Patton
is deputy director of the Harvard Negotiation Project and founder of Vantage, a consulting firm. He has also played key roles in international negotiation efforts, including the process leading up to the dismantling of apartheid in South Africa, and talks between the United States and Iran during the 1980 hostage crisis. He co-wrote with Roger Fisher and William Ury the second edition of
Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In
(1991)
.

Heen
is a lecturer on law at Harvard Law School and, as well as consulting work with corporate clients, has helped in resolving conflicts between Greek and Turkish Cypriots, and mediated in industrial disputes
.

“In rereading, for the first time in years, sequences from my novels—passages where my heroines have lurched down the pathways towards doom—I was stunned to perceive how accurately I had created the landscape of depression in the minds of these young women… Thus depression, when it finally came to me, was in fact no stranger, not even a visitor unannounced; it had been tapping at my door for decades.”

“Even those for whom any kind of therapy is a futile exercise can look forward to the eventual passing of the storm. If they survive the storm itself, its fury almost always fades and then disappears. Mysterious in its coming, mysterious in its going, the affliction runs its course, and one finds peace.”

In a nutshell

Depression can afflict anyone, and its causes are sometimes mysterious.

In a similar vein
David D. Burns
Feeling Good
(p 58)
R. D. Laing
The Divided Self
(p 186)
Robert E. Thayer
The Origin of Everyday Moods
(p 284)

It was while visiting Paris in December 1985 that American novelist William Styron finally realized he was suffering from a depressive illness. He was in the city in order to accept a major award, an experience he would normally have found a boost to his ego and enjoyed. But in the mists of his mental darkness, the presentation and gala dinner that followed became an excruciating ordeal. Having to pretend he was normal made it even worse. By the evening, when he had a dinner with his publisher, he could not manage even a forced smile, and could only think of getting back to the United States to see a psychiatrist.

Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness
is Styron's classic account of his battle with depression. Originally a lecture delivered to The John Hopkins University School of Medicine, and then published as an acclaimed essay in
Vanity Fair
magazine, its literary quality makes it stand out from the hundreds of other titles on the subject.

Styron notes that depression is different to other maladies in that, if you have never experienced it, you cannot imagine what it is like—so different to “the blues” or regular doldrums that affect most people in the course of normal life. That it is not describable to others has only increased the mystery and taboo around it, for if everyone could understand what it was like, there would be no shame involved. Sympathy is not really the same as understanding.

Styron's best approximation of the feeling is that of drowning or suffocation, but he admits even that is not quite right. One becomes like a zombie, still able to walk and talk but no longer feeling quite human. Among depression's features Styron identifies:

Intense self-hatred and feelings of worthlessness.