Talk-Free Relationship Fix # 400.5: Answer the Question You Wish You’d Been Asked
This is actually one of the handiest pieces of relationship advice I’ve ever come across—and it works at the earliest dating stages.
Actually, the precise quote is, “Never answer the question that is asked of you. Answer the question that you wish had been asked of you.”
I should add that this curious tip comes, of all places, straight from the mouth of the controversial, former Secretary of Defense, Robert Strange McNamara (yup, that’s his real middle name).
(Hey, if I can draw inspiration from a crack dealer, how hard is it to believe I'd hear romantic wisdom in the words of a politician?)
In the fascinating Errol Morris documentary, The Fog of War, the unseen interviewer discusses the whole challenge of speaking to the press about the war (and other matters), and McNamara shares the above words of wisdom.
It’s a powerful moment in the movie; as a viewer, piecing together how McNamara made sense of Vietnam and his own choices, I couldn’t help feeling I’d been made privy to the inner workings of a singularly tortured and complex mind. All at once, he’d recast deception as compassion. These weren’t lies; he’d done the world a favor—protecting the innocent, in America and around the world, from a reality they could never hope to grasp. His guidance comes across as more than a little paternalistic and self-serving (still, if press conferences over the last few decades are any indication, it’s safe to say that most public figures have taken his advice and run with it).
My next thoughts, strangely enough, had less to do with politics than with relationships.
The Therapist Who Didn’t Ask Questions
I suddenly recalled a moment, years earlier, when I’d just come home from work—frazzled, hungry, and thoroughly disheveled--after dashing from one site to another all day long just to stay on schedule.
At the time, I’d been pulling 80+ hours of double clinical duties, navigating confusing and occasionally arbitrary health care systems. Half the time I could barely catch my breath. On more than one occasion, I’d completely missed lunch. Each day I’d hunker down and channel all my energies towards understanding my client’s stories, and most of the time, by listening intently enough, I actually understood quite a bit. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, my listening skills were about tapped out. By the time I arrived home, full up with the pressures and pitfalls of the day, it was all I could do to get out a “How was your day?” before spilling. I knew enough to ask—but if anyone, including my girlfriend, Jenn, ceded the floor, I happily rushed in to fill the empty space.
A month or so into this, Jenn and I adopted a bit of a routine. I’d ask, “How was your day?” Jenn would stop what she was doing, pause, say, “fine, how was yours”—and then I’d take over. It went on this way for a while—me asking, her offering a brief answer, my taking over—until one day, after realizing just how much space I’d taken up, Jenn got upset. Really upset. It seems she'd had a lot more to say, and I hadn’t asked about a thing.
I had to agree. I felt terrible about the pattern we’d fallen into, especially about how I’d participated. In the end, we made a change, but it wasn’t just through my asking questions.
Like McNamara, Jenn had to learn to answer the question she wished she’d been asked.
“Strange” Therapy
We can’t always count on others—even those closest to us—to ask the right questions. First of all, they may not even know what the right questions are. (Clearly, I’d need to know a lot more if I wanted to ask informed questions about Jenn’s experience.) Besides the whole thorny problem of figuring out “the right question,” what if your partner or date asks the “wrong” question? Does that mean you can’t share what you had in mind? If you never hear a question beyond ‘how are you?’, do you remain silent?
I began to view "the questions we’re asked" as a powerful metaphor for behaviors—individual steps in each intimate dance. If you lead, by picking where we eat, do I always have to follow, by saying yes? If you start out angry, do I have to get angry in response? If you spill about your day, do I have to wait to share what I wanted?
Each of us can end up feeling forced by "the questions we’re asked" to sacrifice our own plans and stories. But we don’t have to. The more I thought about McNamara’s words, the clearer it became to me: there’s good in his advice, too. Regardless of what you’re asked, or how people act, you can, if you choose, try to create the experience you want.
If, out of anxiety, I felt pressured to share what I’d built up throughout the day, nothing stopped Jenn from interrupting. Granted, I needed to work on making a more inviting space for her to share—and, once she brought it to my attention, I did just that. But Jenn also had to become more comfortable sharing important experiences whether asked directly or not. Being happy in our relationship didn’t rest on the right interview technique; it all came down to my response when Jenn shared more. Would I support it and listen? Or would I push back or try to take over again?
We all have a story to share, unique to our experience, emblematic of our point of view—our personal stamp, if you will. McNamara shared what he wanted to be known. That’s politics. But we can all share how we want to be known. That’s intimacy.
In dating, you seldom have the luxury of “the conversation.” If there’s something you really want your dates to hear about you, or an experience you’ve had, it’s often worth testing out how they respond when you simply share. Questions can be learned over time. Interest can’t.
As a therapist, I witness the negotiation of space every day—between partners, dates, friends. In the midst of all these struggles for space, I’ve often shared the message inspired by McNamara’s words. If you want to change your experience, you don’t need permission, and you don’t have to talk about “the problem.” You can also simply initiate the experience you want. You can share the story you’d planned to share; suggest the restaurant you wanted to go to; answer the question you wish you’d be asked. What you’re really looking for is a loving response when you show who you are.
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Reader Comments (5)
Thanks. Excellent, as always.
I really like this one. Conversational skills are always helpful and not easily learned.
Thanks for being such loyal readers; I'm delighted you've been enjoying the posts.
I really like the way you've described how two people can inadvertently pull certain conversational behaviors from one another. I know I've been guilty of sitting back and then being disappointed at the conversation that others initiate. thank you for a great tag line, "answer the question you wish you'd been asked" (repeating 10 times to myself! :-) Thanks
Always happy to help. Thanks for reading!