The Big Fix That Doesn’t

fixing a car
Carlos Torres – unsplash.com

 

Maybe since the time of homo habilis, about 2.4 million years ago, humans (or, I guess, hominids) have had an innate drive to work with their hands, to fix things. While felines, who have been around for as long as 40 million years, are still content to relieve themselves in whatever sandy spot is most convenient, humans, in less than a tenth of the time, have designed complexes of chrome, porcelain, and PVC that flush our waste out of sight and out of mind. We are born problem solvers.

Humanity’s penchant for fixing things has given us great things, like the aforementioned indoor plumbing, video streaming, and space travel. But the drive to repair what is broken almost always ends in frustration when the thing that is broken is us, or someone who, to us, looks like they need our advice.

We all know the story: after a tough day we vent to a friend. The friend–ever eager to help–happily tells us how we can fix our problem. But instead of being grateful, we get angry.

On the surface, reacting negatively to help seems paradoxically stupid. What an ingrate I must be to scowl (on the inside always, and sometimes on the outside), when a well-meaning friend gives me what I was asking for. Looking at it more closely, though, it is easy to see why telling someone how they can fix their problems almost invariably rubs them the wrong way.

First, by spelling out how to solve their problem, you are basically telling them that they are a moron. “What?” you might say, “That’s ridiculous! I’ve treated them with the utmost respect! And I really do admire them.” But if we consider it objectively, what’s happening? By explaining what they should do to make things better, we are implicitly letting the person know that they aren’t smart enough to solve their own problems, which for most people is going to grate on them, even though they may not know consciously why they are feeling worse about themselves now that they have the perfect solution.

Second, offering to fix a problem is, frankly, problematic because we usually don’t know the whole story. Think about it: the person who is venting doesn’t have all the information themselves, and they certainly aren’t telling you everything; even subconsciously, they are probably slanting the narrative to suit their own needs. Without an objective understanding of the situation, how can anyone offer a definitive fix? (And, if they do take your advice and things go wrong, guess who they’ll blame.)

Third, fixing the problem for someone else denies them agency, makes them a bit player in their own story. That runs against most people’s inborn desire to hold center stage in their peronal drama and, after all, who can blame them, since if you’re not the star of your own show, who are you? Even the most self-deprecating among us believes, whether we admit it or not, that we are newsworthy, the protagonists in a story worth telling. So, when someone details exactly what we have to do to make things right, it shoves us out of the limelight. Instead, we become a supporting player (or even an NPC), with the focus shifting to the genius problem-solver.

(Which is why I tell mediation students that if the parties in my mediation go home talking about the brilliant thing the mediator said, I failed at being a good mediator. If I’m doing it right, they go home congratulating themselves for finding a workable solution.)

Unsolicited advice, even if it contains an objectively picture-perfect fix, is nearly always going to land on deaf ears. People will be so frustrated that someone’s trying to fix the problem that they simply won’t listen, and if a few words do manage to sneak in, they will be discounted. Worse yet, if they do manage to hear and remember the advice and begrudgingly acknowledge that it’s a decent solution, they probably won’t accept it out of sheer pique that someone dared to lecture them.

I’m not saying that people who give advice or try to fix are coming from a bad place. They don’t mean to come across as condescending or overbearing. Like any proselytizer, they are just excited to share the truth that they have discovered. And they usually want to genuinely help other people. Altruism should not be a vice, but when it leads to advice-giving, it inexorably becomes one.

What, you might be asking at this point, is the solution? Watch the lost founder while we sit back and give them nothing? Not exactly. There are a few things that might work. Please note: I am absolutely, positively not giving anyone advice here. I’m just sharing a few things that might resonate with you, that you might find helpful. Or you’ll think that they are the stupidest things you’ve ever heard, and that you’ve got much better ideas (which I have to admit, is quite likely). In that case, I’ll accept your thanks for the inspiration.

First, just listening can help someone more than telling them how to make things better. Sometimes we need to get things off our chest; sometimes we need to hear ourselves say something out loud to another sentient organism for it really to sink in. In either case, staying quiet can do the person you want a great deal more good than your own half-informed suggestions (most of the time).

Second, asking questions can work way better than spooling out solutions. Being curious about how they feel, about what they’ve tried, about what they’re afraid to try, might help whoever needs fixing in ways that won’t make them feel worse.

Third, reminding someone who is facing what seems like an insurmountable crisis of how they have helped themselves in the past might give them the courage they need to face their current nightmare. Remember: they are the player character in their own game, and you are just the NPC, there to buy their dropped loot and repair their armor (metaphorically, unless your friend is an active knight/adventurer). Let them remember the bosses they’ve beaten in the past.

Having gotten to the end, I can’t fight the nagging feeling that I’m doing exactly what I warned against (trying to fix), but I feel like these words are unlikely to tell you anything you don’t already know, though they might help focus someone on insights they’ve already had. In which case I’ll say good luck with your quest, and be nice to us NPCs as you level up. There’s nothing you can’t fix better than I could, so what’s stopping you?

So until next time, expect the unexpected, stay informed, and I’ll stay informal.

 

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Informed Informality: People, Organizations, Conflict, and Culture

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