Listening is a skill that you can master

One of the reasons peace is so hard to find in our lives is because of our "trial lawyer" mentality towards conversation. We rarely listen to each other. Instead, we document, defend, and declare our positions and viewpoints. Our attitude towards others has devolved to a courtroom mentality. We seem to be more intent on "proving" our case than on transforming our conflicts. Even children learn that the goal in any argument is to win.

This "trial lawyer" behavior is sadly predictable. We are bombarded with television shows, books, and films about trials. Cross-examination is considered high drama so we should not be surprised that we emulate aggressive interrogation styles in everyday conversations. Yet cross-examination is not a normal conversational style. Furthermore, the courtroom rules limiting the conduct of cross-examination do not operate in our conversations.

We spend so much time preparing our arguments and rebuttals that we do not have time to listen to others. We are so focused on what we will say next that we cannot hear what is being said to us right now. When challenged, we defend by attacking. All of this makes it easier to let others know what we think than to listen to what others are saying.

Why might this be?

First, I don’t think we are listened to enough. Because we do not have the sense that others are paying attention to us, we struggle to assert ourselves in conversations. We force others to "hear" us. Our own need to be recognized causes us to impose ourselves on listeners, which leads to us not listening to others. Our failure to listen leads to others speaking out, which increases our need to be listened to, etc.

Being listened to is wonderful gift because it is an affirmation of our existence. The story is told of a young mother and her boy in a restaurant. The server approached to take orders.

The boy said, "I’ll have a hamburger."

Mother, ignoring the boy, said, "He’ll have a chicken sandwich."

The server looked at the boy and asked, "Will that be with fries?" The boy beamed with joy. That server had just "listened" the young boy into existence. How often do we act like the mother and how infrequently do we "listen" others into existence?

Second, we take on the trial lawyer mantle to protect our identities from attack. Assuming that the best defense is a strong offense, we are quick to justify, explain, and defend. We are very slow to listen, evaluate, and consider what others have to say. Vulnerability is not such a bad thing, however. In tai chi, for example, the softer one is, the stronger one is; the more vulnerable one is, the more power one controls. These paradoxes are difficult to grasp, but are basic truths applicable to relationships.

Finally, we document, defend, and declare to avoid the anxiety arising from life’s ambiguities and uncertainties. If we can "prove" our case, it must be true! Therefore, we eliminate the gray area, resting smugly on the idea that we are the sole custodians of the Truth. Since truth is relative and subjective, our arrogance can embarrass us or worse, lead us into conflict.

As a mediator, I concentrate very hard on remembering to listen. I am learning, but still have relapses into my old trial lawyer mode. Learning to listen, to pay attention, while not formulating what I will say next, is difficult work. The effort pays off, however. I was working with two business partners who could not talk to each other and whose acrimonious conflict threatened a 30 year old successful firm. I "listened" them both into existence. Almost miraculously, the hostility and rancor dissipated. They were able, with my guidance, to redefine their relationship in a profitable and satisfying way. Had I used the more traditional legal mediation tactics of focusing on risk, cost, and substantive rights, the outcome would have been much different.

The first step is being able to summarize back what the other person has said without spinning your own arguments. This story illustrates the point:

“I will not be in the same room with those people!” Mr. Twain exclaimed.  He was turning red as he became more agitated.  His wife sat quietly next to him.  I had walked into the office thirty minutes earlier, expecting a routine mediation.  Little did I know that my first two hours would be spent persuading Mr. and Mrs. Twain to meet with the other side.

Some mediators might have kept the parties separate.  My experience told me the opposite:  When parties are highly escalated, they must be persuaded to face each other across the table, no matter how hard the conversation might be.  I was not getting paid to take the easy way out.

I listened carefully to Mr. Twain.  When appropriate, I summarized back to him what he was saying and feeling.  Slowly, I established an empathic connection with him.  As he realized he was really being heard, his anger subsided slightly.

“You are right.  Facing those people probably would be very good for me.  But the thought of being across the table from them just makes me mad,” he said. 

We continued to talk for another hour until we had negotiated the terms of his participation.  Mr. Twain would not be required to say anything, and he would be seated right by the door.  If he felt like he was losing control, he could simply excuse himself and step out.  Mrs. Twain agreed to speak for both of them.  I thought I had the process under control.

I brought everyone together into the conference room.  Mr. and Mrs. Hemmingway and their attorney sat on one side. Across from them sat Mr. and Mrs. Twain and their attorney.  I went through my usual introduction and explained the mediation process to everyone.

I stated my ground rules and asked if everyone could agree to them.  My second ground rule was that everyone agreed that they would summarize what others said if asked to do so.  Everyone consented and so we started.  The Twains and Hemmingways were neighbors, but did not know each other.  I asked Mr. Hemmingway to share his perspective on the dispute.  In a straightforward manner, he told us what the conflict was about and how it escalated.  When he finished, I turned to Mrs. Twain and asked her to summarize back what Mr. Hemmingway had said. 

Mrs. Twain immediately launched into her spin on Mr. Hemmingway’s perspective, explaining why he was completely wrong.

I stopped her.  “Mrs. Twain, you will have a chance to tell your story in a moment.  First, though, do you think you can summarize back what Mr. Hemmingway has told us?”

Mrs. Twain said, “I forgot what he said.”

I smiled gently and turned to Mr. Hemmingway, “Would you mind telling your story again?  And Mrs. Twain, would you like a piece of paper to take notes?”  She nodded.

Mr. Hemmingway told his story again.  I turned back to Mrs. Twain and asked, “Can you summarize back what he just said?”

Mrs. Twain started to spin his story again.  “Mrs. Twain,” I said gently and with a smile, “Just summarize back what he said.”

“You mean repeat back what he said?”

“Yes, just that,” I said.

Mrs. Twain looked at me a little sheepishly.  “I forgot again.”  We all laughed, including Mrs. Twain.

“Ok,” I said. “We’ll break it down.  Mr. Hemmingway, please start again.”

After about thirty seconds, I put my hand up to pause him.  “Mrs. Twain, try summarizing what he just said.”

She faltered a little, but got most of it.  “Mr. Hemmingway, was that a fair summary of what you just said?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Great.  Please continue,” I said.

He continued his story, pausing every 30 to 45 seconds to permit Mrs. Twain to summarize back.  Slowly, Mrs. Twain began to gain confidence in her summaries.  As she did so, the hostility in the room dissipated.

Three hours later, we had an agreement that everyone liked.  As we closed the session, the Hemmingways invited the Twains over for margaritas the following evening.  It seems that peace was restored in the neighborhood.

The key element in this assignment was the listening.  First, I carefully and empathically listened to Mr. Twain.  I did not argue with him or challenge his perspective; I simply summarized back what he was saying and what he was feeling.  As we built trust and empathy with each other, his anger naturally reduced to the point that he could agree to participate in the process.

Second, I created a safe environment where Mrs. Twain could be allowed to listen to Mr. Hemmingway.  At first, her anger prevented her from doing so.  With patience and kindness, I allowed her the experience of making mistakes and learning.  As she learned to listen, an empathic connection between the couples was established where none had existed before.  Thus, anger, frustration, and mistrust were transformed into peace between neighbors.

The second step is to learn to "mine the emotional data field." In this listening mode, you ignore the words the other person is speaking and listen for the underlying emotions.

I had been called into a pro bono mediation between warring ex-spouses. Joanne had been sued by Bill over a small amount of money belonging to a child's trust fund she had improperly withdrawn. She had admitted the error and was intent on returning the money. Since she was getting back on her feet financially, the issue seemed to be about terms of repayment. The mediation quickly disintegrated into accusation and counter-accusations. I stopped them after a few heated exchanges.

"Joanne," I said, "I would like you to tell Bill what he is feeling in the moment. Ignore his words and concentrate only what you think he is feeling."

"Ok," she said, "I'll try."

"Bill," I said, "Just repeat what you just said." Bill agreed and started off on a rant against Joanne, saying that she was always a victim and blaming him for all of her troubles. I stopped him and turned to Joanne.

"What is he feeling right now," I asked her.

She looked at me, puzzled, then said "He's angry and frustrated."

"Good. Tell that to him."

She looked across the table to Bill. "You are angry and frustrated right now."

"Damn straight I am!" he said and went off on another tirade.

"Joanne, tell him what he is feeling," I said again.

She did that. We repeated this for five minutes. Joanne looked completely different. I asked her, "How do you feel?"

"I feel in control, like I have power," she said.

"Do you feel like a victim?" I asked.

"No, not at all," she said in an amazed voice.\

"Then let's keep going," I said.

A few minutes later, I asked Bill, "How are you feeling?"

He looked across the table at Joanne with tears welling in his eyes. "This is the first time I have felt that you actually have heard me in 20 years," he said.

Needless to say it was a transformative moment.

The key is to listen for the emotions and simply state them back with no added words. Say "You are (mad, angry, frustrated, betrayed, etc.)" Do not say "I hear you saying that you are X" or "What I heard you say was Y." The reason is that you want the focus to be on the other person's experience of feelings in the moment, not your interpretation of those feelings.

Sometimes, you will be wrong. No problem, the other person will correct you by saying something like "No, I don't feel angry, I feel frustrated," or words to that effect. Summarize the corrected feeling and move on.

If the person circles back to the same thing over and over again, its because he or she is holding a deeper set of feelings that need validation. Just keep guessing at them until you get it right.

Amazingly enough, no one ever feels offended when you state back their feelings. Instead, they feel a deep sense of relief that they are being heard and understood at a deep level.

If you want to transform your business and personal relationships, try "listening" others into existence. Be that server who ignored Mom and made the little boy come alive. This simple concept is amazingly transformative once you have succeeded with it.