Julia Dhar How to have constructive conversations TED
Transcriber:
Three planes, 25 hours, 10,000 miles.
My dad gets off a flight from Australia
with one thing in mind
and it’s not a snack or a shower or a nap.
It’s November 2016
and Dad is here to talk to Americans
about the election.
Now, Dad’s a news fiend, but for him,
this is not just red or blue,
swing states or party platforms.
He has some really specific intentions.
He wants to listen,
be heard and understand.
And over two weeks,
he has hundreds of conversations
with Americans from
New Hampshire to Miami.
Some of them are tough conversations,
complete differences of opinions,
wildly different worldviews,
radically opposite life experiences.
But in all of those interactions,
Dad walks away
with a big smile on his face
and so does the other person.
You can see one of them here.
And in those interactions,
he’s having a version
of what it seems like we have less of,
but want more of –
a constructive conversation.
We have more ways than ever to connect.
And yet, politically, ideologically,
it feels like we are further
and further apart.
We tell pollsters that we want
politicians who are open-minded.
And yet when they change
their point of view,
we say that they lacked conviction.
For us, when we’re confronted
with information
that challenges an existing worldview,
our tendency is not to open up,
it’s to double down.
We even have a term for it
in social psychology.
It’s called belief perseverance.
And boy, do some people’s beliefs
seem to persevere.
I’m no stranger to tough conversations.
I got my start in what I now call
productive disagreement
in high school debate.
I even went on to win
the World Schools Debate
Championship three times.
I’ve been in a lot of arguments,
is what I’m saying,
but it took watching my dad
on the streets of the US
to understand
that we need to figure out
how we go into conversations.
Not looking for the victory,
but the progress.
And so since November 2016,
that’s what I’ve been doing.
Working with governments,
foundations, corporations, families,
to uncover the tools and techniques
that allow us to talk when it feels
like the divide is unbridgeable.
And constructive conversations
that really move the dialogue forward
have these same three essential features.
First, at least one party
in the conversation
is willing to choose curiosity over clash.
They’re open to the idea
that the discussion is a climbing wall,
not a cage fight,
that they’ll make progress over time
and are able to anchor all of that
in purpose of the discussion.
For someone trained in formal debate,
it is so tempting to run headlong
at the disagreement.
In fact, we call that clash
and in formal argumentation,
it’s a punishable offense
if there’s not enough of it.
But I’ve noticed,
you’ve probably noticed, too,
that in real life that tends
to make people shut down,
not just from the conversation,
but even from the relationship.
It’s actually one of the causes
of unfriending, online and off.
So instead, you might consider a technique
made popular by the Hollywood
producer Brian Grazer,
the curiosity conversation.
And the whole point
of a curiosity conversation
is to understand
the other person’s perspective,
to see what’s on their side of the fence.
And so the next time
that someone says something
you instinctively disagree with,
that you react violently to,
you only need one sentence
and one question:
“I never thought about it
exactly that way before.
What can you share
that would help me see what you see?”
What’s remarkable
about curiosity conversations
is that the people you are curious about
tend to become curious about you.
Whether it’s a friendly
Australian gentleman,
a political foe or a corporate rival,
they begin to wonder
what it is that you see
and whether they could see it to.
Constructive conversations
aren’t a one-shot deal.
If you go into an encounter
expecting everyone to walk out
with the same point of view
that you walked in with,
there’s really no chance for progress.
Instead, we need to think
about conversations as a climbing wall
to do a variant of what
my dad did during this trip,
pocketing a little nugget
of information here,
adapting his approach there.
That’s actually a technique
borrowed from formal debate
where you present an idea,
it’s attacked and you adapt
and re-explain,
it’s attacked again,
you adapt and re-explain.
The whole expectation
is that your idea gets better
through challenge and criticism.
And the evidence from really high-stakes
international negotiations
suggests that that’s what successful
negotiators do as well.
They go into conversations
expecting to learn from the challenges
that they will receive
to use objections to make their ideas
and proposals better.
Development is in some way a service
that we can do for others
and that others can do for us.
It makes the ideas sharper,
but the relationships warmer.
Curiosity can be relationship magic
and development can be
rocket fuel for your ideas.
But there are some situations
where it just feels
like it’s not worth the bother.
And in those cases
it can be because the purpose
of the discussion isn’t clear.
I think back to how my dad
went into those conversations
with a really clear sense of purpose.
He was there to learn, to listen,
to share his point of view.
And once that purpose
is understood by both parties,
then you can begin to move on.
Lay out our vision for the future.
Make a decision.
Get funding.
Then you can move on to principles.
When people shared with my dad
their hopes for America,
that’s where they started
with the big picture,
not with personality
or politics or policies.
Because inadvertently
they were doing something
that we do naturally with outsiders
and find it really difficult sometimes
to do with insiders.
They painted in broad strokes
before digging into the details.
But maybe you live in the same
zip code or the same house
and it feels like none
of that common ground is there today.
Then you might consider a version
of disagreement time travel,
asking your counterpart to articulate
what kind of neighborhood, country,
world, community,
they want a year from now,
a decade from now.
It is very tempting
to dwell in present tensions
and get bogged down in practicalities.
Inviting people to inhabit
a future possibility
opens up the chance
of a conversation with purpose.
Earlier in my career,
I worked for the deputy
prime minister of New Zealand
who practiced a version of this technique.
New Zealand’s electoral system
is designed for unlikely friendships,
coalitions, alliances,
memoranda of understanding
are almost inevitable.
And this particular government set-up
had some of almost everything –
small government conservatives, liberals,
the Indigenous people’s party,
the Green Party.
And I recently asked him,
what does it take to bring
a group like that together
but hold them together?
He said, “Someone, you,
has to take responsibility
for reminding them
of their shared purpose:
caring for people.”
If we are more focused
on what makes us different than the same,
then every debate is a fight.
If we put our challenges
and our problems before us,
then every potential ally
becomes an adversary.
But as my dad packed his bags
for the three flights, 25 hours,
10,000 miles back to Australia,
he was also packing a collection
of new perspectives,
a new way of navigating conversations,
and a whole set of new stories
and experiences to share.
But he was also leaving those behind
with everyone that he’d interacted with.
We love unlikely friendships
when they look like this.
We’ve just forgotten how to make them.
And amid the cacophony of cable news
and the awkwardness of family dinners,
and the hostility of corporate meetings,
each of us has this –
the opportunity
to walk into every encounter,
like my dad walked off that plane,
to choose curiosity over clash,
to expect development
of your ideas through discussion
and to anchor in common purpose.
That’s what really
world-class persuaders do
to build constructive conversations
and move them forward.
It’s how our world will move forward too.
Thank you.