Dan Erwin

So You're Actually a Research Expert. . . Who Gives a Damn?

Back in 2017, I wrote a blog on the loss of expertise, picking up on the expertise of Dunning-Kruger and the more recent response of Tom Nichols. Nichols warned that we are moving toward the collapse of any division between professionals and laypeople. Given my recent experience, we’re no longer “moving toward,” but we’ve arrived at that collapse.

A few weeks ago I was asked by a coffee crony, a professional in planning (not a classical research specialist) to look over a psychiatric study dating from 1970 on “Characterological Deterrents to Economic Progress in People of Appalachia.” Before I opened a page, I remembered my bias against much “psychiatric research," built on the fact that most of them are technically, merely medical professionals who work off models in their field. Diagnostic specialists, not research specialists. It was obvious from the get-go that the writer had no understanding of theory construction, had no competency in critical thinking, was unaware that by the time of his study the model had been discredited, was unaware that he was drawing suspect conclusions, had no understanding of his implicit assumption, an assumption that was identical to Adolf Hitler’s orientation to the Jews--the notion that certain people and races are inherently sub-human. BTW, the majority of PhD’s also lack significant background in theory construction. They just use the typical theory from their discipline for their own research.

Here’s where I got an ear-full. ..

How We Unknowingly Sabotage Our Own Conversation

    Now, mostly dead is slightly alive. From “The Princess Bride” by William Goldman.

More and more the role of conversation in business is beginning to get attention among businesspeople and the professions. There are a number of reasons for that. But the most important reason is that without effective, enlightening and articulate conversation skills, professionals get ignored. Including professionals with top competencies in their field.

Just a short time ago, I was in a group of professionals discussing the role of artificial intelligence. I noticed, much to my chagrin, one of the brightest guys was often ignored. So I turned on my rhetorical talk-ware to understand why.

In just a few minutes I figured out why: he was sabotaging his ideas with “hedging.” Amazing that hedging can result in power loss, but there it was, right in front of us. And I’m certain he was totally unaware of what his hedging was doing to him and his ideas.

Sometimes hedging is just a verbal tic. But a significant group of generally smart professionals periodically shoot themselves in the foot with its use. They can resolve a problem, break it down into bits and pieces for a solid resolution--and even explain their rationale. But along the way their input loses its credibility for a simple reason: hedging. They don’t understand that hedges limit their credibility.

It’s not just the overly-polite Upper Midwesterners who hedge, but New Yorkers, Virginians and even Californians. Furthermore, it’s not just women who do it: a surprising share of men do the same thing. This small behavior happens too frequently—and inevitably means...we miss out on great ideas and highly creative solutions. And the guy who hedges, gets ignored.

What’s hedging?
A hedge can take different forms. It can be in the shape of a clause, word, hesitation or tone--used to soften the impact of what’s being said. It may be an attempt to defer to the other person, to be polite or avoid bragging. The original motivation for hedging stems from caring about how one is perceived. Over the long term the hedge becomes habituated—and unconscious. And the hedge is habituated into the person’s speech and sound even when there is no concern about another’s perceptions. The response? A tune-out.

“This is kind of the way I think it is.”  The tone in the hedge is usually soft with a sense of questioning built into the sound. The hedge? “Kind of.”

“This is right?” The intonation on the last word is a question with built-in pleading for agreement and acceptance. It’s an unnecessary and destructive caveat.