What Words Can Do To Us

A key to creativity. How 1/3rd of 1 percent of the world's population contributed so much.

I’ve always been fascinated by how words work--and what they can do to us. I’ve been especially intrigued over the past thirty years by questions—yeah, I’m a question nut! I actually have an entire shelf in my library on the discipline of questioning. My hobby is easily explained. Effective questions are a key to learning and growing. Which means that questions are how we make change. And inevitably, clients hire to me to help them make change. 

So, I was glued to a column by the NYT’s Bret Stephens on a unique book, The Secrets of Jewish Genius, which I took to be about creativity and problem solving. (FYI: I’m English and Scot--not Jewish.) I’ve long since learned that as soon as I begin to get into disciplines like economics, science, politics, psychology, psychiatry, human resources, fiction, music, etc. and etc., I start running into Jewish writers. Here’s just a brief list: Sigmund Freud, Benjamin Disraeli, Albert Einstein, Franz Kafka, Irving Kristol, Rudolf Serkin, Daniel Kahneman, Jeff Pfeffer, Abraham Maslow, Karl Marx, and Milton Friedman.

I’ve always been fascinated by how words work--and what they can do to us. I’ve been especially intrigued over the past thirty years by questions—yeah, I’m a question nut! I actually have an entire shelf in my library on the discipline of questioning. My hobby is easily explained. Effective questions are a key to learning and growing. Which means that questions are how we make change. And inevitably, clients hire to me to help them make change. 

So, I was glued to a column by the NYT’s Bret Stephens on a unique book, The Secrets of Jewish Genius, which I took to be about creativity and problem solving. (FYI: I’m English and Scot--not Jewish.) I’ve long since learned that as soon as I begin to get into disciplines like economics, science, politics, psychology, psychiatry, human resources, fiction, music, etc. and etc., I start running into Jewish writers. Here’s just a brief list: Sigmund Freud, Benjamin Disraeli, Albert Einstein, Franz Kafka, Irving Kristol, Rudolf Serkin, Daniel Kahneman, Jeff Pfeffer, Abraham Maslow, Karl Marx, and Milton Friedman.

So, I was very curious about the answer to Stephens’ thesis question: “How is it that a people who never amounted even to one-third of 1 percent of the world’s population contributed so seminally to so many of its most pathbreaking ideas and innovations?”

Stephens deals with the “Jews are Smart” explanation, commenting that it obscures more than it illuminates. Instead, he chooses to deal with the question of why intelligence is matched by “bracing originality and high-minded purpose.”

The answer to his question is surprising: “Jewish genius operates differently (from other thinkers). It is prone to question the premise and rethink the concept: to ask why (or why not?) as often as how. . . Where Jews’ advantage more often lies is in thinking different.” Focusing on premises is something few thinkers act on--yet premises--or assumptions--are where all the theoretical, argumentive and creative stuff is found.

As Stephens indicates: here are the two very, shockingly simple, important words that can add significantly to your creativity: why not?

In previous vocations, I made a fetish out of “what” and “how.” What do you need to do and how do you do it? What do I need to do for my clients (my congregation) and how do I pull it off with them (my congregation, students or clients)? It took me quite a few years to recognize that “why” also needs to be part of my problem solving. Why do I think this is important? Why is this necessary? Why do arguments need the "why" question?  Although I was very familiar with various questioning processes, including Bloom’s extensive Taxonomy, I intended to build my own taxonomy of questions that could be learned quickly by clients. Indeed, my agenda was the need for a simple taxonomy that could be easily taught and used when focused on behaviors. I learned that even smart MBAs from top schools, with background in decision science, had no obvious taxonomy for dealing with human behaviors. My simple taxonomy was a starting place that could be added to as experience required.

So, as I took on the role of executive coach, what, how and why remained very important. But as I got into issues of some depth, I began to ask the question “what am I missing?” But that question did not always go far enough. Even though clients understood the phrased question, for some reason it didn't work very well. It didn't capture attention. I usually got a sophisticated "duh" to the question. It’s easy to become a sucker for clients’ silence and explain further. But I found that that way of coaching places the onus on the coach. I wanted the onus on the client. He or she, based on information I provided, needed to come up with his own answer and solutions.

It was clear to me that "what am I missing?" doesn't work too well. It's just not a phrase that clients normally run with. I personally liked my response of “what’s behind your question?” But I realized I needed more  common, simple-minded language.Otherwise I'd start answering my own question and the client would learn a lot less. The fact of the matter is that simple phrases like "why not?" have a common familiarity and meaning. In contrast, "what am I missing?" just fails to have a common meaning or context. When you're creating a simple taxonomy that will readily come to mind, you want simple language, with common familiarity, that pushes the client's gray matter, but doesn't slow down the process. That's not always easy.

So, when I read Stephens’ article, I laughed out loud. The bells in my head went off. These two words were the fourth question for my taxonomy. What’s silly is that they’re obvious, but I’m certain that I’ve never used them in my 89 years. This may read like I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill. But if you work with adults much, you’re aware that simplicity is the name of the game. If a process is simple, there’s a high potential they’ll pick it up. But if it’s complex, forget it. Business people, especially, think they’re too busy to waste time on complex thinking or conversational processes.

What does why not do?
A couple days ago I was playing with some analogies with a smart microbiologist. (FYI: There’s some theoretical work today analogizing between social behavior and human microbiology that’s yielding illuminating insights.) So, I was trying to compare the destructiveness of avoidant attachment theory to bacteria in the gut. It had been very enlightening for both of us. I made a psych comparison to a bacterial situation and he quickly responded that that wouldn’t work. I asked my dumbly simple question: talking slowly and with intention, I asked “why not?”

Then I saw how the two simple words work. My friend is a bright guy. He responded instantly, and he had plenty to say. It took a very clear pattern.

Explanation: he detailed why the analogy was too flawed.

Assumptions: he explained that much bacteria is not destructive.

Further suggestion: he suggested two ways in which the analogy could work.

Recycling: After his input I used the same analogy, but emphasized different analogy characteristics.

Difficulties: If your colleague is not as quick or thorough, first, use the “silence nerves” approach. Simply wait in silence and often the client will take on the issue. Just sit on your hands, waiting. When you’re not getting the pattern fulfilled automatically, go back and focus on each issue in the pattern. For example, if the person says the analogy won’t work and nothing more. Wait a few seconds and then ask for help in understanding that conclusion. In other words, reframe “why not.” Although there are a number of reasons why this approach works, a basic one is that a lot of people are plainly curious about comparisons and analogies in their area of expertise and enjoy the learning and fun of them. Analogies are a superb means for growth. A second reason is that by asking a question of another—with positive, constructive tone—you’re putting power into the other’s hands. People usually accept power when it’s handed them.  

In previous vocations, I made a fetish out of “what” and “how.” What do you need to do and how do you do it? What do I need to do for my clients (my congregation) and how do I pull it off with them (my congregation, students or clients)? It took me quite a few years to recognize that “why” also needs to be part of my problem solving. Why do I think this is important? Why is this necessary? Why do arguments need the "why" question?  Although I was very familiar with various questioning processes, including Bloom’s extensive Taxonomy, I intended to build my own taxonomy of questions that could be learned quickly by clients. Indeed, my agenda was the need for a simple taxonomy that could be easily taught and used when focused on behaviors. I learned that even smart MBAs from top schools, with background in decision science, had no obvious taxonomy for dealing with human behaviors. My simple taxonomy was a starting place that could be added to as experience required.

So, as I took on the role of executive coach, what, how and why remained very important. But as I got into issues of some depth, I began to ask the question “what am I missing?” But that question did not always go far enough. Even though clients understood the phrased question, for some reason it didn't work very well. It didn't capture attention. I usually got a sophisticated "duh" to the question. It’s easy to become a sucker for clients’ silence and explain further. But I found that that way of coaching places the onus on the coach. I wanted the onus on the client. He or she, based on information I provided, needed to come up with his own answer and solutions.

It was clear to me that "what am I missing?" doesn't work too well. It's just not a phrase that clients normally run with. I personally liked my response of “what’s behind your question?” But I realized I needed more  common, simple-minded language.Otherwise I'd start answering my own question and the client would learn a lot less. The fact of the matter is that simple phrases like "why not?" have a common familiarity and meaning. In contrast, "what am I missing?" just fails to have a common meaning or context. When you're creating a simple taxonomy that will readily come to mind, you want simple language, with common familiarity, that pushes the client's gray matter, but doesn't slow down the process. That's not always easy.

So, when I read Stephens’ article, I laughed out loud. The bells in my head went off. These two words were the fourth question for my taxonomy. What’s silly is that they’re obvious, but I’m certain that I’ve never used them in my 89 years. This may read like I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill. But if you work with adults much, you’re aware that simplicity is the name of the game. If a process is simple, there’s a high potential they’ll pick it up. But if it’s complex, forget it. Business people, especially, think they’re too busy to waste time on complex thinking or conversational processes.

What does why not do?
A couple days ago I was playing with some analogies with a smart microbiologist. (FYI: There’s some theoretical work today analogizing between social behavior and human microbiology that’s yielding illuminating insights.) So, I was trying to compare the destructiveness of avoidant attachment theory to bacteria in the gut. It had been very enlightening for both of us. I made a psych comparison to a bacterial situation and he quickly responded that that wouldn’t work. I asked my dumbly simple question: talking slowly and with intention, I asked “why not?”

Then I saw how the two simple words work. My friend is a bright guy. He responded instantly, and he had plenty to say. It took a very clear pattern.

Explanation: he detailed why the analogy was too flawed.

Assumptions: he explained that much bacteria is not destructive.

Further suggestion: he suggested two ways in which the analogy could work.

Recycling: After his input I used the same analogy, but emphasized different analogy characteristics.

Difficulties: If your colleague is not as quick or thorough, first, use the “silence nerves” approach. Simply wait in silence and often the client will take on the issue. Just sit on your hands, waiting. When you’re not getting the pattern fulfilled automatically, go back and focus on each issue in the pattern. For example, if the person says the analogy won’t work and nothing more. Wait a few seconds and then ask for help in understanding that conclusion. In other words, reframe “why not.” Although there are a number of reasons why this approach works, a basic one is that a lot of people are plainly curious about comparisons and analogies in their area of expertise and enjoy the learning and fun of them. Analogies are a superb means for growth. A second reason is that by asking a question of another—with positive, constructive tone—you’re putting power into the other’s hands. People usually accept power when it’s handed them.