Do colleagues “hear whatever they want?”

You plan communication — and it seldom goes to plan.

Here’s one example: you explain clearly to a team what to do. You also tell them why. They seem to listen.

Two weeks later, they’re doing something quite different. “Why?” you ask. They wonder why you ask. It was obvious what to do, they say. Or even “Isn’t that what you told us?”

You might think they’re just doing whatever they want, disregarding the direction you set. But they’re sincere about what they heard.

Then, you might wonder what you did wrong. Could you have set the direction better?

With these doubts, you might ask for advice. Perhaps you ask on social media. There, people will be happy to tell you what you did wrong:

• You didn’t explain precisely! (Or, You micro-managed.)
• The team didn’t bother to listen! (Or, You bored them so much that they couldn’t listen.)
• You should have repeated the message more! (Or, You repeated it so much that they switched right off.)

So much advice you get — but each tip adds confusion. These people advising you how to communicate — they’re not doing so well themselves.

The earnest advisors on social media make the same mistake that you make, that we all make. They think communication is “sending messages”.

They and you and we think that words transmit an idea from one head to another. A pristine, pickled thought plops into the receiver’s mind, and communication is done.

And when communication fails? We think it must be like a broken wire or faulty telephone. A mechanical breakdown, one of these three:

• The words are wrong, OR
• Something interfered in transit, OR
• The audience didn’t decode the message correctly.

That’s the whole network covered — transmitter, channel, receiver. What else could go wrong?

Those reasons are technically correct, but they miss something huge. Humans aren’t neat little logic boxes, and human communication is wilder and more powerful than we know.

At its worst, it fails destructively, worse than an unclear transmission. It may fail quietly, undetected for weeks. Misunderstandings at work waste resource and build frustration.

But at its best, human communication builds new ideas, new expressions, new actions even, transforming our work and relationships.

(In the team briefing example above? Think about it some more — the direction may not be what you expected, and possibly really not what’s needed, but there is something there: some chance for you to learn or at least build the team some more.)

How does human communication build new things? I will spend a couple more posts unpacking it. But here’s a hint: It starts with the receiver. Some kind of magic happens when the words find their ear. The words act like a quick sketch that sparks patterns of recognition, and then the listener’s brain paints a colorful picture around these patterns. The picture is based on the listener’s experience in life and of language, and on the listener’s perception of the situation. The “message received” is that picture, not the original words that sparked it.

Interpreting what you say or write, a listener makes it up as they go along. If you’re in a conversation with them, or a text chat, or some space for feedback, there’s a chance to check communication. But what they take away from the communication remains something that their mind created, and you can’t get away from that. When you’re the listener, you do the same.

And… well… that’s what makes things worth communicating, that we’re different people with different skills and unique energy and the chance to take ideas and grow them into actions. You want a robot? Good luck. People — teams, colleagues — come with human minds.

But it’s still tough to accept that words are what the listener makes of them. Words seem so definite and solid. Especially if you use the plain and simple kind, in short sentences that pass without squiggly lines.

Next time I’ll take apart this idea that words are a solid, reliable code. You might start thinking that it’s a miracle that communication ever works. Sounds depressing? Consider this:

1. When you know more about why language doesn’t work like we always thought, you’ll get less frustrated. Also:
2. When you start to feel how language really works, you’ll allow yourself some space to do it better. The rigid rules, the grammars and earnest tips, you’ll see them as tools to use when useful. But you’ll loosen up and find new ways to get your message across.

See you next time.