in the congregation
Do you feel like the art of conversation is dying, or has been lost entirely? I do sometimes. Diane and I frequently discuss the growing isolationism in the culture (the latest manifestation being online video services, which have well-nigh eliminated our need to go the video store and actually interact with people). In large part I think the practice of conversing revolves around the idea of asking meaningful questions of the other party, and from personal experience–very objective, I know–I can recall many groups and individual conversations in which I’ve been involved where very few questions were asked. People rely on making statements about themselves which they hope will produce a reaction in the conversation partner, and when such a reaction does not occur (as happens frequently when two people have no initial common ground), they simply make another statement and the conversation quickly disintegrates into a protracted monologue unless the partner can elbow their way back in.
Additionally, the cadence of conversations leaves a lot to be desired. I’ve done this myself. I’ve been so wrapped up in completing a thought, point or statement that although I paused in my discourse to allow the other person to speak, I will immediately pick up after they’re done, giving, at the most, a cursory nod to the observations they ventured without really taking into account the substance of what they’ve said. It’s amazingly easy to do. If we would slow down and give the other person the credit of thinking about their observations, meaningful exchanges of ideas and opinions would be more commonplace and we wouldn’t feel so rushed in talking to others.
Good conversation technique takes practice, as do logic and critical thinking, disciplines that are rapidly disappearing from our society. If one of the fundamental underpinnings of a democratic system of government is literacy, and if we define literacy as not only the ability to grasp the concept behind the things we read but also to use our knowledge to encounter and impact the world, then the erosion of those key exercises of literacy is profoundly undermining and weakening our culture.
I miss Diane. Yesterday was a rough day emotionally, for reasons external to the two of us, and after increasingly busy days here at work I am very much looking forward to spending a quiet evening with her. She is so lovely, and I find rest in her beauty and tenderness. I never knew how essential those things were until I found them in her.
You so often make eloquent and insightful posts, and this is assuredly one of them. You’re right on point when you characterize much of common dialogue as personal exposition in the hope that it will provoke a response in the interlocutor. There’s a delicate balance of listening and speaking that can produce rewarding interaction in this mode, but as you point out, it’s easy to miss that balance and have it turn into an exchange of monologues or, worse, a one-sided speech.
I think there are two factors that contribute to this problem, both of which probably have deeper underpinnings, but I can recognize them as proximate contributors to the conversational problem you mention.
One is a sense of being rushed in general. I think this tends to push people into trying to get as much out as quickly as possible, which doesn’t leave much room for a genuine dialogue or thoughtful response.
The second is a general aversion to silence in conversation. Without periodic pauses to gather thoughts or consider what has just been said, there is often very little room for a real dialectic, in which people speaking together cooperatively develop an idea. Blurting out whatever comes first to your head fulfils the cultural notion of being ‘friendly’ and ‘outgoing,’ but it tends to be ultimately unsatisfying.
During orientation week here at the law school, I mentioned being sick to death of the hey-where-you-from type of conversations. I tried to start a few with more intellectual substance: What do you think of the atomic bomb? Is it anti-American? – What did you like best about living in your home state? – but I tended to provoke furrowed brows more than anything else.
There are about two guys that I can really talk to here. There’s a young lady who has a keen and interesting mind whose company I have occasionally shared, but she is studious to the point of being highly antisocial. Intellectual discourse is harder (for me) to find here than I might have thought.
I still have in the back of my head the question you asked about the source of moral absolutes in the law. Still haven’t come up with anything that might point to a satisfactory answer. The gears continue to turn.
Thank you, Damon. You make excellent points too, especially concerning the delicate balance that characterizes most conversation. As soon as I wrote about the importance of asking questions in conversation, I remembered the concurrent importance of personal exposition to give the other person “something to work with,” as it were. It helps to have a “foothold,” however small, for questions.
I hope you find more satisfying conversationalists there soon! I know they’re few and far between. So many (too many) conversations are just one-sided and draining… It shouldn’t be like that. For what it’s worth, Diane and I both appreciate your thoughtfulness and openness in your replies. We found ourselves wishing that you lived closer!
That was precisely what came to mind when i read this post. People are so rushed in general that if the conversation doesn’t snap, crackle, and pop than they get nervous or uncertain or think that you don’t like them or don’t want to talk at all. Hence all the shallow and ready conversation about something safe and largely insignificant.
I used to hate ‘small talk’ (and still do at times), but sometimes it’s the best way to establish an environment of open communication with someone you don’t know. It also allows you to find out certain things about each other that have nothing to do with the content of the conversation at all. So it has it’s place, i’m certain. But at the same time, i tend to hate small talk if the person’s motive is just to fill empty space. If certain people would just stop talking for a while you’d be amazed at the thoughts and ideas and observations that are allowed to come forth. But it takes an ability to be silent in order for these things to happen. It is rare for people to be comfortable with this silence, these days. So often my own silence is read as a reluctance to converse or an adverse mood…but usually it’s not (unless the person is making excessive and unnecessary small talk). But to those that know me, it can be a comfortable respite from the demands made by others in this culture…especially in a ‘social setting’. This does not mean that i am what you might call a conversationalist, but i think it has it’s own place and merits at times. ;)
I know my comments were rather narcisistic, but just replace the offending pronouns with something a little more objective and impersonal (such as ‘one’ for ‘me’) and you’ll get over it, i’m sure. :)
And now to post without re-reading, as i so often do…
~jd