The language of connecting

One evening a couple of weeks ago, I went to Bookshop Santa Cruz to hear Charles Duhigg talk about his latest publication, Supercommunicators. I was a bit thrown off by this Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter and best-selling author’s informal, interactive style until I realized he wasn’t just presenting the information in the book. Duhigg embodied ideas and brought to life the language of connection he describes and advocates for in the book.

I so enjoyed the personable, relatable stories of the people he told, the way he incorporated the findings of scientific research, and how Duhigg engaged members of the audience—and gave us time to experience what he was pointing to with each other—that I bought the audiobook immediately after Duhigg’s presentation. He reads the book himself and does so in the same warm, conversational manner.

The book brims with stories from a fascinating array of folks, including an oncologist who relayed distressing news to patients, a person who recruited spies, the official charged with selecting astronauts to crew the space station, and the creators and writers of the long-running sitcom about socially awkward nerds called The Big Bang Theory.

Duhigg identifies the essential abilities that empathic communicators share, offers conceptual models to make these skills understandable and learnable, and weaves in relevant research to back up his claims. I particularly liked how he got me to reconsider a skill I learned long ago, active listening, by renaming it looping for understanding and helping me better understand the way it works, which, in turn, inspired me to work on getting even better at it.

Another thing I appreciated was how, during the last part of his talk and the end of the book, he turned his attention to the conversations we have about politics with people we disagree with, often vehemently. Duhigg doesn’t gloss over the difficulties, nor does he offer easy answers. Instead, he is down-to-earth, humane, and practical, which left me feeling empowered and (dare I say it?) positively anticipating the next time I find myself in the kind of situation I might have previously avoided.

I took the photo at the top of today’s post at the beginning of the event I described.

The book title above is an affiliate link to bookshop dot org, which connects you to a local merchant in the US. Whether you use it to buy the book or not, I encourage you to support your community by purchasing the publication from your local purveyor of printed goods rather than some giant corporate retailer.