THE LIMITS OF COMMUNICATION, PART 1
Against the backdrop of an increasingly polarized nation, many of us still cling to the fanciful notion that communication is all-curative. Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we faithfully insist that if everyone would just communicate more and more openly, the world would surely be a better place. Greater understanding and appreciation of one another, so goes the thinking, would enhance personal and professional relationships (even those in the political arena) because we would come to respect each other’s point of view.
Have we not learned anything from constantly witnessing the dual-sided nature of communication?
Robust dialogue and debate may result in sounder, consensually driven decision-making—assuming, of course, all sides not intractable and unwilling to compromise. And, yes, encouraging people to communicate gives them the opportunity to express and satisfy their need to be heard.
But the act of communicating by itself does not magically obviate differences and resolve disputes. Look no further than today’s 24-hour barrage of political news and commentary: Where precisely is the less divided, less acrimonious climate that increased communication promises?
Nor does the act of communicating function to automatically improve how we perceive and judge each other. If it did, winning over friends and lovers would so easy: we’d bond more just by talking more. The initial assessment of a first date—they seem perfect; this could be the one—would never be upended by the revelations of a second date: They collect Nazi memorabilia? Hitler was actually very misunderstood?
Communication is a double-edged sword. The more you communicate with anyone, the more you uncover. Some discoveries lead you to like the person more; others cause you to like the person less. For important relationships, honest, in-depth communication is a commitment worth making, but it is still a decision that entails risk. Sometimes you’re rewarded; sometimes you’re not.
Then again, think of all the people you get along with primarily because you hardly know them. Such relationships endure because they are kept superficial, ensuring that our suspicions of how little we have in common with one another and how differently we see the world are never affirmed. Limiting our communication allows these acquaintances to stay operational. Here and elsewhere, it is often our conscious lack of communication that continues to save the day.
A version of this post originally appeared in Richard Kallan, Renovating Your Writing: Shaping Ideas and Arguments into Clear, Concise, and Compelling Messages, 2nd ed. (Routledge, 2017).