Communication Styles, Part 1

This story takes place in China. It could happen anywhere.

I’d been appointed as American co-director of a small joint China-U.S. graduate center in Nanjing, China. It wasn’t my first tour in China (I’d already spent a total of seven years there in other guises), I was equipped with proficient Mandarin, and most of my colleagues were used to working with people from the U.S. Even so, this was a new level of immersion.

Navigating communication was just one of many intercultural challenges I faced — and one of the toughest. When speaking, I was used to people taking my words at face value. Now, as the top-ranking person in the organization (along with the Chinese co-director), I noticed colleagues reading unintended meaning into my words. When being spoken to, I’d been trained to listen for what was said. Now, I had to develop antennae for what was unsaid.

One incident was especially telling.

The home office back in the U.S. wanted to invite a famous scholar to teach some classes at our center. I was excited about it, and I went into the Chinese co-director’s office to ask for her support. Her response seemed a bit on the lukewarm side, but she didn’t say no. Instead, she said, “Let’s see about it.”

After a couple weeks, I hadn’t heard anything more from her, so I went back and raised it again. Same response — but still not “no.”

A couple more weeks. Same thing. Same response. Now I was feeling frustrated, especially since the folks back home wanted answers.

One afternoon, I paid a visit to our academic dean about an unrelated matter. As I was about to leave, he said, “Director Pei (using my Chinese surname), there’s one other small matter I’d like to chat with you about.”

“Okay,” I said.

“This matter you’ve raised several times with the Chinese co-director about that visiting professor.”

“Yes?”

“Well, why do you think that every time you raise it, she only mentions the downsides, and never mentions the advantages?”

That’s when it hit me. How had I missed it? Of course she’d been telling me “no” all along. My direct-communicating brain had been too obtuse to see it. Not only had I missed her intended meaning; she’d become so frustrated about it that she’d vented to the dean (who, unsurprisingly, used a supremely indirect approach to get his message across to me, but in a way that even I couldn’t misinterpret).

I told the dean I understood, thanked him, and left.

– 

“Say what you mean. Mean what you say.” In the U.S. it’s almost gospel. Our culture tells us it’s a speaker’s job to take whatever they’re thinking, package it straight into words that accurately convey the thinking, and deliver those words to a hearer, whose job is simply to unpack the words. The result? Smooth and clear communication.

Except communication is about a lot more than “packaging,” “sending,” and “unpacking” information. What about factors like the relative rank or power of the people involved, the history of their relationships, the particulars of their current life conditions (family, health, finances, job pressures, breakups, hookups)...and on and on?

These contextual factors tend to be more important to indirect communicators than they are to direct communicators. (Indirect communication is sometimes also called “high-context” communication.) Because of this more holistic approach, chances are an indirect communicator is at least as concerned about maintaining harmonious relationships as they are with precisely communicating chunks of information.

One way to help maintain relationships is to avoid embarrassing one another (also known as “saving face” or “preserving face.”). We can forge common ground with our indirect-communicating colleagues, friends, and family by using the “bridging strategies” below for minimizing embarrassment and maintaining harmony.

When speaking:

• Use hedges like “maybe,” “I think,” “it seems.” This can relieve pressure that the hearer might be feeling.

• Ask questions instead of making statements. Compare: “I don’t think that’s a good idea” with “Do you think there might be some other ways we could consider doing this?”

• If you feel the need to disagree or criticize, try to do so privately.

When listening:

• Understand that in public settings, you might not hear much from indirect speakers. Carve out time for one-on-one conversations, where you might have more success drawing out their thinking.

• Listen for stories. Indirect communicators often use stories as parables for the situation they actually want to address.

• Pay attention to non-verbal cues such as body posture, gestures, facial expressions, voice volume, and intonation.

If you’re a direct communicator like me, you might cringe a bit at some or all of the above. Why can’t they just listen to the words I’m actually saying? Why can’t they just say what needs to be said?

I’ve come to learn that the cringey feeling is just my amygdala — my brain’s threat-detection specialist — doing its job by alerting me to difference, which is a cue for threat. I’ve found it helpful to reflect on the values underlying “annoying” behaviors. Indirect communicators tend to value human relationships over efficiency. Direct communicators tend to do the opposite, but can surely identify with the desire for strong relationships. Making this connection can help smooth the way for direct communicators to bridge to indirect communicators.

Cultures that prize direct communication also tend to draw hard lines between “work” and “life.” While there’s a case to be made for this approach, we also pay a price when we ignore the full human context of our work relationships.

I’ll take this up in the next post.

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