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Mistaken Interpretation
© 2005 Esther Derby
This column originally appeared on stickyminds.com
“Jim was trying to publicly humiliate me!” Dave asserted. “What a jerk.”
“When did this happen?” I asked.
“On the conference call yesterday,” Dave responded. “You were there. You heard him. He reamed me in front of the group.”
Actually, I hadn’t heard him. Or to be more precise, I heard the words that Jim said, but I didn’t hear Jim humiliate Dave, nor had I heard Jim ream Dave.
On the conference call, Jim had said “Dave, you haven’t been present for our last three calls. And you haven’t returned phone calls or emails.”
How did Dave get from those words to public humiliation? He told himself a story.
From Point A to Point B, Sometime by a Circuitous Route
Interactions start with sensory input. Some one says something. We hear the words, tone, and inflection. If we’re face-to-face, we see physical posture, facial expression, and gestures. Based on what we’ve seen and heard, we interpret a meaning. Most of the time, our interpretation is close enough that we catch the (intended) drift and can continue the conversation.
Once in a while, our interpretation is off, and our communication becomes tangled. If we’ve misheard or misinterpreted a word, it’s relatively easy to get back on track. But sometimes the interpretation we make causes a rift. Then we need to work harder to get back on track.
Separate Sensory Input from Interpretation
Our brains are wonderful things. We are capable of taking in vast amounts of data and make meaning in the blink of an eye. It happens so fast, that most of the time, we aren’t aware that there are two separate steps. But if we learn to notice that there are two separate steps, we can increase our effectiveness.
I don’t mean that in each interaction we need to stop and ask ourselves “What did I see and hear?” “What interpretation am I making?” When emotions are high – as in Dave’s case – it’s a good practice to slow down the process and consciously separate what we have seen and heard from the meaning we make.
Once you’ve separated out the data and interpretation, look at your interpretation. There are some specific types of stories that tend to land us in trouble.
I’m an Innocent Victim
In Innocent Victim stories, we tell ourselves that we had no part to play in creating the situation – we’re 0 per cent responsible. In describing how Jim humiliated him, Dave conveniently left out any facts unflattering to his case – that he had indeed missed three meetings and not returned calls or messages.
He’s a Bad Guy
Like Innocent Victim stories, Bad Guy stories absolve us of any responsibility. Bad Guy stories not only let us off the hook, they make the other person 100% responsible. Bad Guy stories start by assuming that the other person has evil motives. You can spot a Bad Guy story because it labels the other person – he’s an idiot, she’s vindictive. Once we label someone, it’s easy to trash them, and that’s where Bad Guy stories go.
Unraveling the Knot
If you catch yourself in one of these stories, stop. Unravel the knot you are in before you take action, or say something you’ll regret later.
Start by reviewing the sensory input.
What did you see or hear? Don’t bleed over into interpretation. When I asked Dave what he’d heard, he replied “Jim told me I’m irresponsible.” That’s an interpretation – Jim didn’t say that at all and may not have meant that. Jim may have been leading up to asking if Dave had been ill. Stick with the facts, just the facts.
If you recognize an Innocent Victim story, ask yourself “What part did I play? If I asked an impartial observer, what part would he say I played?” Dave conveniently ignored that he had, in fact, missed three calls and gone dark for two weeks.
On the other hand, if you are telling yourself a Bad Guy story, strip off the label. Ask yourself “What would have to be true for a reasonable person to act this way?”
Once you’ve convinced yourself that maybe, just maybe, there’s an interpretation that doesn’t make you a victim or the other person a villain, generate at least three possible interpretations, to remind yourself that interpretation is not fact.
After Dave and I talked this through, he decided to talk to Jim about what happened on the conference call. Dave realized that he’d been hasty in ascribing motives to Jim, yet he still wanted to convey that he had been embarrassed when Jim publicly recited his absences.
So Dave approached Jim and shared his interpretation as a hypothesis, not a fact.
After listening to Dave, Jim paused for a moment.
“Well,” Jim said, “What I was going to say is that it looks like we did a good job covering for you. I was wondering whether I could take some time off and the team could cover as well for me. But when you snapped at me, I decided it meant you didn’t think I should take time off.”
Dave looked chagrinned. “Sounds like we both jumped to misinterpretations.”
Once Dave and Jim realized they had misinterpreted the facts, it didn’t take long for them to untangle the conference call interaction. Dave decided maybe Jim wasn’t a jerk, and Jim checked with the team and then scheduled a few days out of the office.
Isn’t it wonderful that human communication works at all?
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