Category: Communication

As humans, why is it we argue quite so much? Maybe it’s simply because we’re thinking beings, wielding logic within the confines of our brains then drawing others into combat to test the strength of our ideas compared with theirs. That sort of competitive mindset of wanting to see if we’re right; which, of course, generally means having to make another person wrong on some count.

Whether it’s intrinsic to ‘thought’ that we would seek to argue, or whether our social or cultural lives have cultivated that tendency over the years is possibly too difficult a question to answer. Either way, it seems we have to live with it and make the best we can of the situation.

But it does seem we’re trained to think in terms of conflict: to pick a side, make it ours, defend it, and conquer the position others have taken up (see Notes One). It’s a contentious topic, but given its importance I do at times attempt to write about it as best I can. The nature of ‘truth’ and extent to which it might be bigger than any one person’s viewpoint seem such important things to consider.

Encouraging people to think, view situations, and approach them with this sense of a battle troubles me in many ways. If we’re tending to see conversations as arguments then our basic gesture’s quite aggressive I’d imagine? As if we’re trained to walk around looking for the next thing we might disagree with. As if others and their thoughts are adversaries more than friends or people we might learn from.

It’s this framework of argument where we’re taught to construct our line of reasoning, convey it in the most compelling manner, then attempt to somehow defeat our opponent so our ideas – we – emerge the winner. Conversations where we arrange all our thoughts, facts and opinions neatly along certain lines then see how well it all plays out.

Whether we particularly believe in our line of thought or choose our own side because it serves us some other way is another issue, of course. It seems some people like to make a sport of disagreeing as an intellectual, interpersonal or power-related activity; the satisfaction of victory, of having ‘won’ that human interaction.

Whatever the reason, the psychology, or the educational merit of this way of thinking, in practice it seems to cause these fracture lines between people and between the causes they care about. Conflict seems almost inevitable in a world where we’re taught to argue more than converse with one another (Notes Two).

And, to me, it’s also not quite realistic. I mean, are we applying our thoughts to people or to things? There’s surely a difference between reasoning on the level of ideas and observable realities, or talking about what they ‘mean’ within the intricacies of our social or personal lives. Making every topic a battleground for logic doesn’t seem very inclusive, very understanding of what might be working itself out in and through our lives.

Notes and References:

Note 1: How arguments avoid issues
Note 1: Does truth speak for itself?
Note 2: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: Seeing, knowing and loving

Looking from another angle, there’s clearly great room for improvement in how we’re living, as explored in People wanting change.

What’s happening when we talk to one another? In putting our ideas, experiences or hopes into words are we simply drawing on memory and filling time, or also bringing something new to life?

At times we might be sharing ourselves: offering our ideas and happenings up for discussion, scrutiny and, possibly, correction. We might be letting others into how we see life, its challenges and opportunities; seeking in return their insight, the perspectives they are able to contribute through their own experiences of life (see Notes One). This pooling of understanding and social creation of meaning can be so fascinating.

And maybe, through casting the light of our mind over our experiences in order to express them to another, we might also be transforming them: seeing new patterns, drawing memories into new relationships, observing our thoughts and their meanings differently. We might begin to understand our role as agent, our position in social life, and our connections with the world in new ways.

From the wealth of personal experiences plus all those thoughts, ideas and storylines we encounter in life, we could arguably create any number of differing interpretations about what it all means, what matters most, and where to focus our attention (Note Two). The arc, the spin, the weight we give to the various elements of our story could easily lead us to vastly different conclusions.

If our minds are open and alert, conversations must have the power to lead to deeper understanding or greater confusion. We might circle for ever, caught in old patterns, unable to break the spell of interpretations we once accepted wholeheartedly. Or we might, through the involvement of others, begin to reassess our ideas and apply new thinking in that realm. The mind could well become a prison or a liberation (Notes Three).

And then, sometimes, we might even find ourselves walking into completely new territory: learning even as you hear yourself speaking. One thought leading to another, we might take steps into the unknown and seek understanding where previously our mind hadn’t thought or dared to set foot. We might utter words in a different formula, break all our patterns, and suddenly see things in a new light.

It’s an interesting thought, the extent to which expressing our ideas might influence our lives: reinforcing those walls that might be limiting us, allowing others to broaden our horizons, or approaching it all as a voyage of discovery. Without communication, it might be that we’re largely trapped by our own thinking, unable to inject fresh reasoning or re-evaluate how we’ve been seeing things.

In all these ways, conversation might serve us well by bringing in insight we didn’t hold before. Our shared words could become a journey, forming a path from our past, through our present and on into our future. The act of opening up our inner world to others, seeking a way to bridge that gap and make our ideas more commonly known, could then become quite a constructive yet beautiful thing.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Counselling, listening & social identity
Note 1: “People Skills”
Note 2: What are we thinking?
Note 3: Podcasts as models of transformation
Note 3: Spiritually committed literature

When we communicate, we share our selves: our view on life; our beliefs, concerns and priorities; what matters most to us at that moment. And, doing so, we’re probably also highlighting our blind spots, struggles and fundamental assumptions about existence. Surely when we speak, in putting our thoughts into words, we are revealing how we see things and where we stand.

But current frameworks of communication often present this as a forum for self-expression, for insisting others share your views, for establishing a brand or tribe. All that, to me, seems destined for conflict and division: it’s using that space of communality for spotlighting the self, waging battle in the realm of ideas, and strengthening some while excluding others (see Notes One).

It’s undoubtedly a different way of approaching people. Are conversations places to be heard, to share thoughts, broaden awareness and learn about those things we may not yet have encountered; or places to be feared where we must protect ourselves from judgements, attacks and attempts to reshape us?

I guess it boils down to ways knowledge tends to be limited, partial and imperfect. By the fact of our existence we’ve grown up within a culture, a family, a society; absorbing their lessons, drawing our own conclusions, choosing a path within what’s presented to us. Of course, that experience will be limited and our understanding likely to contain many unexamined, possibly mistaken, attitudes we’ve not yet brought under scrutiny.

Within that, does it help if we cannot use communication to expand our awareness? If our understanding’s pretty much guaranteed to be limited, while society itself is becoming this incredibly rich place where all the diversity of life can now rub shoulders and pool insights, then surely having the right model for relating to one another emerges as something quite important (Notes Two).

Listening and offering feedback have presumably always been personally and socially valuable. How else are we going to understand fully if we cannot run our ideas past others and receive respectful, considerate correction should it be required? If we just hold to our ideas, defending but refusing to examine them, where does that leave us?

Because the way experiences inform ideas, both those essentially shaping our identity – that sense of self we then defend and build our social life around – raises interesting questions around the value of communication and how we might ‘help each other out’ of whatever limitations we may have (Notes Three).

Notions of counsel, consulting others and seeking advice, then present themselves in a new light. The authority of cultural tradition may once have served to guide people, offering a clear voice and standards for living. Now, we might have little more than complete freedom, resistance to anyone limiting it, and the desire only for a reasonably coherent inner storyline to live by.

And, having only managed to sketch out these ideas, I’ll likely revisit this at some point; because it seems questions of communication, healing and understanding might well be fruitful to re-examine.

Notes and References:

Note 1: How arguments avoid issues
Note 1: The way to be
Note 2: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 2: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 2: “People Skills”
Note 3: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 3: Dealing with imperfection

It’s an interesting question: what we have the right to ask. Are there some things we can’t draw into question? And, if so, does that mean they’re things that can no longer be questioned or things we’re not encouraged to understand? Maybe we’re supposed to take some things as given, a basic foundation laid out before our time that cannot be altered.

In trying to understand life, you’re obviously going to come up against the fundamental ideas of society: the conversations that happened at its inception, the people involved and the systems they put in place. That’s essentially where the ball started rolling; gathering with it the impacts it’s had over the years, and a broad sense of the validity of the initial intentions and how well they’ve worked out.

And, generally speaking, Western society’s often presented as this high point of progress where individuals are free to pursue their own interests without much interference over what they choose or believe about life. We’re free to think, to weigh up, to decide for ourselves. I suppose it’s the force behind all the modern marketplaces, and the reason information’s so important.

But then, as life within society gets so complex and interconnected with global systems of various natures, how are we to evaluate our choices and be sure of the right paths? It’s surely becoming a massive undertaking to unravel all the connections and see things for what they really are (see Notes One). And it’s something that affects all branches of life, as we’re swept along with the pace of changes (Notes Two).

Because, while we clearly have the capacity to understand, there may well be limits to how much we can process without damaging our ability to live productive and happy lives (Notes Three). If that’s the case, do we then decide to place some things outside the realm of our concern – to defer responsibility to others?

Maybe we do, maybe that’s the answer: that this is a collective project where we must trust others to operate by certain standards, along similar lines, and that our overarching systems of governance and regulation have it all suitably in hand. Trust itself is interesting though, especially given how many of the more moral or traditional constraints have been lifted off Western shoulders.

And all this is truly a genuine question, as many posts I’ve referenced have pondered the extent of our responsibility towards the systems we live within. The issue of how far we can be considered responsible for those things we sustain, allow, support, benefit from, or turn a blind eye to is pretty fascinating and also quite pertinent to our times (Notes Four).

If we’re intelligent beings – capable of understanding – and information is available to us, then are we expected to cut through all the white noise of advertising, media, modern culture, and the pace of life in order to get to grips with it? And, if we can, do our choices even have the power to shift things?

Notes and References:

Note 1: The philosopher stance
Note 1: What if it all means something?
Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 2: Meaning in culture
Note 2: Technology & the lack of constraint
Note 2: Ideas around education & responsibility
Note 2: Modern media and complex realities
Note 3: “Brave New World Revisited”
Note 3: “Paradox of Choice”
Note 4: Responsibility in shaping this reality
Note 4: Tell me why I should

If the actual words we use account for around 7% of our meaning, then clearly context’s important for grasping that fully: body language, tone of voice, and other factors all playing their part in interpersonal communication.

The idea of sharing thoughts so others can come to understand, relate themselves to us, and learn from our existence is fascinating. On a personal as much as a social level we are making things more commonly known, feeding into our community from the wealth of our experiences and reshaping society through that mutual journey of knowledge (see Notes One).

Evidently there are many modern challenges on this front, as we struggle in our response to the connections and insight technology affords us (Notes Two). And, given those statistics around the weight of words compared with their context, it seems tech might inevitably create an echo chamber of sorts where our psyche and the interface itself may influence things far more than we might realise.

How does this then affect collective conversation about things that matter? With all we can now become aware of, the enduring public nature of the internet, and how poorly intentions might carry through the veil of tech, where does this leave us in addressing our concerns?

Because surely tone matters, the nuance of social meaning wrapping our words as we seek to impart them to others? We communicate human to human – that’s the level we’re trying to reach common understanding – and, as humans, so much is carried through personal and social language. It’s not just our words; it’s what they mean to us and what we mean through them (Notes Three).

In practice then, misunderstanding seems likely, as perhaps does wilful ambiguity and plausible deniability: once context is stripped from our words, we’re in a grey area where meaning’s much more up for grabs. However, we do still need the ability to convey our intended meaning; making technology a slightly strange tool for communication.

So, if our important conversations happen via tech, how does that work out? Do we abandon the added meaning of tone and context, pouring everything into the words themselves (and, what would be lost if we did)? Do we turn ourselves over to endless conflicts over meaning, nestled as it may be in our psychological makeup and social reality? Do we hold people to absolute standards while offering no path to reach them?

Communication has surely never been that easy: human nature; differing opinions and experiences; the machinations of the mind; ways we seek to relate to others, and how that makes us feel within ourselves. Finding common ground and accepting another way of seeing things suddenly sounds almost indescribably difficult.

And the interpersonal context that stands slightly apart from our words must matter; it’s how we stand in relation to others and seek to communicate our message. It might be flawed, imperfect, and often in need of correction, but it’s also deeply human and presumably the essence of what we’re hopefully trying to achieve?

Notes and References:

Note 1: “People Skills”
Note 1: Communicating divergent experiences
Note 1: Podcasts as models of transformation
Note 2: People wanting change
Note 2: Where’s the right place to talk?
Note 2: The web and the wider world
Note 3: Apparent difficulty in finding a voice
Note 3: We may as well laugh
Note 3: Anger as a voice

When it comes to human experience, we clearly all live through things differently: youth, place of birth, social realities, economic conditions, relationships, ideas, and struggles. Our own personal self, our unique make up and outlook, seemingly arises out of all these things. There may be commonalities, but essentially we live and make sense of it in our own ways.

And even when we have quite a lot in common, many shared ideas, it can still be incredibly difficult to relate and understand one another. Perhaps it’s almost easier to get along with those you have less in common with, as differences are more apparent and disagreements less close to home. Maybe when we live along the same lines but draw different conclusions that’s more confronting.

In a way though, we all experience the same complex reality. Especially now so much of how we live is global in reach and consequence (see Note One). Many of the reference points we now share to some degree affect us all: the impacts of current economic systems, the social concerns arising from modern culture, the vast and often troubling conversations spanning the internet.

So, maybe obviously, we have these pooled experiences of being human and also of being human in these times. We all have to relate ourselves to those realities – life, death, injustice, obstacles – and also find a way to relate to each other.

Which I find fascinating because it’s almost like we all have these pieces of the same puzzle: living within shared realities, our experiences of them shaped our lives, bringing us to a very real understanding of the impacts of how we are living. Human and systemic flaws ‘come to life’ through our experiences and we can give voice to them.

But that’s not going to be an easy conversation. Wounded or disadvantaged people have every right to feel the frustration, pain and injustice of that. And advantaged people might well feel attacked and held to account for things the system itself facilitated or sheltered. We very clearly don’t live in a perfect world, however well-intentioned, so there are undoubtedly many difficulties to be worked through.

Communication and identity are complex, important realities (Notes Two), as our subjective experiences mix in with those of others and society at large. Dealing with that, making space for one another, handling volatile emotions and painful realities, accepting mistakes and situations that possibly cannot be rectified, and finding a way out of it all is surely incredibly challenging.

It’s something touched upon within the themes of Communication and Change, and it’s really not easy to write about or imagine a solution to. Modern life has given us all a voice, and many of those voices and the ensuing conversations are problematic, difficult to resolve, and broaching new territory in terms of our capacity to relate.

Finding ways to respect and acknowledge personal experiences within our complex, fractured realities while also constructively reworking what sorely needs improving seems an almost beautiful challenge for our times.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Globalised society finding its feet
Note 2: Things we can’t talk about
Note 2: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 2: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 2: “People Skills”
Note 2: Literature where West meets East
Note 2: Podcasts as models of transformation

Something about communication can be incredibly beautiful: that we can take our thoughts and experiences, express them through language and, through conversing, share and develop our own ideas as well as coming to understand others. It’s been touched on a few times here, both in its capacity to enrich our lives and for the challenges it presents society (see Notes One).

Because if communication is this sharing, this act of listening as much as articulating our own interests, in a way it’s fundamentally confronting: we have to suspend the self with all our beliefs, opinions and judgements in order for the other to find space to express theirs. Which I suppose is the idea of tolerance: to allow something without interference; creating that space for a different reality to be heard without conflict.

Often though it seems we want to ‘win’ at conversations; to be heard, validated, unchallenged, or at least defeat those challenges (Notes Two). As if that space of tolerance isn’t available, it’s the ground we don’t want to offer in case we cannot get it back.

This energy of a battleground can be a deterrent to broaching many topics, as offering up meaningful aspects of yourself or addressing something you’re less familiar or confident with can leave you open to an easy or painful defeat. And some simply just don’t want to argue, don’t like ‘attack and defence’ as a model for communicating.

And I wonder why we’re feeling this threatened; why time’s so tight, patience so thin, and tempers so high. I guess there’s this sense that things are moving fast so we have to jump in and get heard (Note Three). Also that our pace of living leaves less scope for patiently listening to those we might have less in common with (Note Four). It does seem we have less time and more pressure of varying sorts – more stress.

But maybe intolerance and poor communication add to that. Maybe these walls we put up against others leave us more isolated or frustrated as we cling rigidly to our views and break the habit of making room for others. And, in doing so, we might risk losing something valuable: sharing ideas and experiences, exploring how we’re different and what we have in common, imagining what it is to see life through another’s eyes – letting all that ‘be’ without needing to judge or compare seems beautifully human.

Yet for some reason there seems to be this pressure to form an opinion, an identity, a set of defining choices, then to stand by what we’ve chosen. I’m not at all sure where that comes from. Maybe from business, consumption and marketing; maybe from social media and the principles that are shaping online interactions; or maybe it is simply human nature in a way.

Maybe it’s a fundamental insecurity of being human; but surely also a challenge to rise above feeling threatened and find new ways to communicate beyond differences while still addressing all that needs to be addressed.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 1: Globalised society finding its feet
Note 1: Where’s the right place to talk?
Note 2: Does truth speak for itself?
Note 3: Patience with the pace of change
Note 4: Attitudes to elder members of society

This post leads on from talk of activism and change, as well as forming part of a broader conversation around communication (see Notes One); essentially asking how valuable and productive anger is in the various areas of life.

Often these days it seems we revert to anger in personal, social or political relationships, seeing it as a valid response to the things that are happening. And, of course, there are many times that may very well be justified: people are often treated badly by others and by our collective attitudes and systems. But is it a good path? Does it achieve what we’d like it to, or could we reframe this and develop more helpful alternatives?

It’s a vast and fascinating topic: we could talk of personal anger when our values or rights aren’t respected; of collective anger at social trends and injustices; of anger as a way of communicating our standards and ideals; or as a general attitude in how we meet the world. I suppose anger tells us when something important to us has been trampled on or might be; we react to defend what we see as precious. So it’s a valuable emotion that must have its place in social dialogue.

But then it can also be a reaction that derails conversation by creating almost insurmountable obstacles. We might be completely justified in our anger from a certain perspective, but does expressing it actually serve our purposes? Anger shows we care, deeply, but also sends ripples through our social environment that can make difficult topics even harder to approach. Like a fiery wall of indignation that’s hard to work around.

Then there’s the question of where our anger should be directed. In terms of protest and social change, are we fighting one another; fighting those in positions of authority; or fighting systemic ideas we disagree with? I would’ve thought that focussing our emotions in slightly the wrong place might make enemies out of potential allies and leave respectful cooperation an even remoter possibility.

Whatever the scenario, we can draw on imagery of protest, activism and battlegrounds or look to the quieter resistance of various civil rights movements. But, beyond that, is there space for an articulate middle ground of conscious engagement and empowerment? Of being aware what battles we’re all fighting and where the true enemy lies? Rather than seeing almost everyone as an opponent, is there a space for calmer communication and cohesion?

So, going back to anger itself, it really seems such an important emotion on many levels: highlighting our boundaries and ideals with this powerful feeling for how things could and should be different. It tells us that these things matter; but does that also make it the best way to manage them? Is it an ideal and constructive response? Or might it be wiser to gain a fuller picture of what our anger is, where it should be directed, and at what point it risks pushing others away through unnecessary and avoidable conflict.

Notes and References:

Note 1: People wanting change
Note 1: Talking through difficult topics
Note 1: How arguments avoid issues
Note 1: Does truth speak for itself?

The Change & Communication page also addresses these themes.

For many reasons, it seems we’re having a hard time talking with one another these days. As explored in How arguments avoid issues, and Does truth speak for itself?, conversations frequently shift into arguments, conflict and division as we feel our views to be so compelling and important. Within that context, my focus here is emotion and how it seems to be derailing communication and making it challenging to have any conversation that touches on emotive personal or human realities.

In modern life, we’re aware of so much more and connected with so many more through technology and the movement of people. Cultures, experiences, historical issues, differing beliefs and practices are all flowing together; often without a sense of how to embrace that (see Globalised society finding its feet). How aware are we of the many subconscious ideas or assumptions guiding our behaviour and expectations? If we can’t consciously ‘own’ ourselves in that way, how well can communication fare? As in Mirrors we offer one another, processes of identity and relationship seem complex and significant.

Beyond that, society appears to be losing the strong sense of shared values, standards and responsibilities it seemingly once had. As discussed in Antisocial behaviour & the young, it’s daunting to address such social realities; but, with society becoming increasingly individualistic, surely these conversations are exactly the ones we must find a way to approach.

Returning to emotion, it seems at times people’s own emotions around a subject overtake them, spilling over into the social aspects of conversation where disagreement is met with moral judgement, social condemnation, or whatever socio-emotional weaponry might sway you to change your thinking. At other times, the emotional life of a listener may render frank discussion impossible through sensitivities arising out of personal experience.

In all of this, divergent perspectives in life make it hard to talk effectively. Modern discourse seems to arrive at this impasse where we face a battlefield of unresolved issues, strong emotions, and finely crafted arguments. Do we avoid topics to minimise social conflict and personal pain, or are feelings simply a part of life that need to be respected then managed constructively? Could varied experiences become an enriching source of strength and awareness, instead of divisive wounds? Is there a way to acknowledge our convergent paths to this point, yet continue to talk?

For whatever reasons, society and individuals seem less stable these days. Maybe it’s the rapid changes of modernisation, undermining social structures in unforeseen ways. Maybe it’s the influx of information, unsettling our inner lives in ways that simply didn’t used to exist. Maybe it’s the struggle to process all we’re now aware of, including the wounds inflicted by recent times.

Whichever path we took, we’re apparently in this somewhat uncharted territory where we must find a way to establish productive dialogue. I’m not saying that’s easy, but it seems we sorely need new ways to relate to one another; hopefully managing differences in a way that unites rather than divides us all.

In looking to conceptualise self, identity and human relationship, I tend to fall back on the idea of mirrors: that we reflect what we see in others; seeing what we have come to know through experience, education or culture.

I suppose we ourselves are formed by such social interactions; by internalising ideas as to what is best, how to be in the world, and what it all means. Surely family, culture, life experiences, friendships and interests inform our sense of personal meaning and value, either in the positive or the negative. Then it seems we view the world accordingly, seeing what’s familiar or what we’re able to understand.

As explored in Writings on Education, society in its various guises can be seen to offer us a set of reference points which we adopt in understanding the world around us physically, socially, emotionally, historically and so on. So we think with the ideas imparted to us, finding our place in the world – an essential frame we might hold strongly, react against, or seek to expand.

In a way, it seems we think with the self, shaped by what we’ve become and met in the world. Leading on from that, I imagine this relates to self-worth: that our sense of value or status rests in the moral or social estimations we measured ourselves against. It often seems we judge or perceive others by our internalised standards and the meaning we assign to their actions (see, for example, Relating to cultural benchmarks or How many aren’t well represented?).

This has veered off into slightly more philosophical territory than intended, but my essential point is that it seems we go through life with this sense of self that forms a foundation for our understanding, relating others to what we know in ourselves, and reflecting back to them our level of understanding and sense of valuation.

Put another way, our perspective seems to reside within this inner landscape of meaning; a space peopled by what we’ve encountered and made our own. What we know well expands that view, but less familiar things we may find harder to understand or appreciate.

In the past, with its more limited palette of the known and the unknown, I imagine this all served to maintain the framework of society: you knew “your place” and the meaning of things, so could relate fairly confidently to those around you (as in Community – what it was, what we lost). Now that our societies are so wonderfully diverse, the sense of meaning is surely much more diffuse and our shared experiences necessarily fewer. So the same process may be becoming a source of division or conflict; a significant obstacle to communication.

This is an idea I’ll come back to at some stage, as it connects with many other areas; my intent here was merely to explore this notion of a reciprocal relationship between the individual and society, wondering where it may lead in terms of how we live and relate to one another.