Nobody is boring: how to make every conversation fascinating
My father, Warren Bennis, used to say that if we find someone boring, it means we are not asking the right questions. My father was never bored and found everyone utterly fascinating. When I met a friend’s fiancee, I knew even my father could not possibly engage this person. No way! Impossible. He was nice enough, but had an impenetrable veneer. No question could draw him out. I simply could not get a sense of him. And after a half an hour conversation, I could remember almost nothing about him.
I was reminded of the essay by the psychiatrist, Irvin Yalom, in his book Love’s Executioner where he writes: “Every one of my notes of my early sessions contains phrases such as: ‘Another boring session;’ ‘Looked at the clock about every three minutes today;’ ‘The most boring patient I have ever seen;’ ‘Almost fell asleep today — had to sit up in my chair to stay awake;’ ‘Almost fell off my chair today.’”
In the essay, Yalom learns to ask better, more challenging, and more compassionate questions of his client. His questions deepen only after questioning himself: his own history prevented him from engaging with this woman.
I did not have the insight to question myself in order to engage with my friend’s fiancee. Instead, I bet my father 100.00 that he could not engage this man in a true conversation for ten minutes. Every year when I visited LA, I would invite this couple to dinner, looking forward to being in the audience when my father undertook his most challenging opponent. And every year, my friend would show up alone, saying that her (now) husband had to work. I felt that I should win by default—it is impossible to engage him if he doesn’t even show up!
In the 6th year of the bet, guess who arrived for dinner! I shot my father a mischievous glance as I directed the husband to sit to right of my father’s seat at the end of the table. My father surprised me by sitting in the chair to the husband’s left, so they were side-by-side. Co-conspirators! For the rest of the evening, the two men talked as if they were catching up after many years of separation. My friend’s husband was animated, alive, relaxed, and clearly felt seen, heard, valued, and intoxicated by the conversation.
When they left, I asked my father what they had talked about. He said, “stocks and investments.” Really? How could that possibly be interesting? What did my father know about stocks and investments? How could something so boring fuel a three-hour conversation? Of course, Yalom would question my assumption about stocks and investments! Where do I get the idea that this is a boring topic of conversation?
I prodded my father with questions: What could you find interesting about stocks and investments? How could you talk for so long? What did you learn about him? Were you pretending or really interested?
My father assured me that, though he had never cared much for talk about money, the conversation had been riveting. He had learned about markets, trends, risk, and financial forecasting! (Yawn). I asked him how this objectively bland topic suddenly kept his attention. And my father answered, “It is not the topic that kept my attention, but the person. I was so curious about why your friend’s husband found his work so interesting that he would rather work than have dinner with us. I don’t find the topic interesting. I find people interesting. I am forever interested in people. Everyone is fascinating.”
I paid my father the 100.00.
Since then, I hope to see every conversation, especially the ones that I fear may be boring, as an opportunity to ask new questions, and to question myself.
Your challenge this week:
Make a conversation interesting by asking new questions.