THREE

Say What?

Explore the nuances of verbal and written expression

In the early ’90s the California Milk Processor Board struck gold with their now classic “Got milk?” campaign. The campaign brilliantly captured the hearts of millions of people in the United States by making so many of us suddenly crave a glass of cool, creamy milk to wash down our cookies or loosen the peanut butter from the roof of our mouth.

The success of this ad prompted the Milk Board to expand the campaign to Latino consumers living in California. They did what most people with a basic grasp of Spanish language would do: they translated it as “¿Tienes leche?” Shortly after launching the Spanish language campaign, however, they discovered that “¿Tienes leche?” actually translates as “Are you lactating?” Not the kind of milk they had in mind.¹

Translation blunders can range from funny to embarrassing to offensive. They can also lead to costly mistakes, like the one made by the Milk Board. Literal language differences are the most obvious barriers to verbal and written communication across cultures. With help from a dual language dictionary, differences in word choice and grammar become more navigable. But that dictionary will get you only so far.

Although the translations may seem clear, words and phrases are shape-shifters. Words can contain underlying meanings that are conveyed through a combination of nuances including tone, volume, and the context in which they’re delivered. Timing and silence have implications too—implications that can vary widely between cultures.

Hidden messages embedded in the phrase “Got milk?” could have caused the advertisement to miss the mark with the Latino community even if the translation had been correct. While the idea of needing milk to wash down foods like cookies cleverly reminded many Americans to feed their “inner kid,” researchers found that in some of California’s Latino communities, where staples like milk are not always available or affordable, the question “Got milk?” evoked fears associated with not being able to feed your family. As a result, the advertisers modified their phrasing and strategy to target mothers and grandmothers who typically took pride in nourishing their families with milk-based products. The new tag line became “¿Y usted les dio suficiente leche hoy?” (“Have you given them enough milk today?”), and the ads highlighted traditional recipes that include milk, along with other imagery that evoked positive associations with food in that culture.²

When we communicate in our native tongue, we express hidden messages all the time without even realizing we are doing it. In a flash of a moment, we often subconsciously choose and deliver our words in specific ways in order to do things like present ourselves in a certain manner, elicit certain emotions, or protect others’ feelings. In the context of our native cultures, we deftly wield these linguistic nuances to ensure that our intent matches our impact. Unfortunately, this same deep fluency can get us into trouble. With our brains on autopilot, we often assume that all of those implicit associations and meanings will be understood by others. But when we communicate across cultures, these hidden messages are often overlooked or misunderstood.

So how do we make sure that people aren’t misinterpreting what we say? And on the flip side, how can we learn to “see” these hidden meanings and figure out what people from other cultures are really saying to us?

The good news is that there are clues that can help us decode the nuances of verbal communication—clues that become easier to detect and decipher after you’ve taken some time to size up your own communication style.

Are You Direct or Indirect?

A few months ago I gave a colleague a ride home from an evening event. We were deep in conversation as I started my car and pulled out of the parking lot into the dark night. My colleague realized that I had forgotten to turn on my lights and abruptly said, “Hey, you need to turn your lights on.” I laughed at myself and said thanks as I flicked them on.

If the exact same situation happened but it was a Korean colleague instead of a U.S. native sitting next to me, the conversation might have unfolded a bit differently:

KOREAN COLLEAGUE: It’s very dark outside tonight.

ME: Sure is.

KOREAN COLLEAGUE: But the stars light the road.

ME: Uh-huh. That’s what stars do.

KOREAN COLLEAGUE: I wonder what else would light the road.

ME: Oh crap. Why didn’t you just tell me to turn my lights on?

By the end of the conversation, I’m annoyed and my colleague is probably frustrated with me for taking so long to catch on. This shows how different verbal communication styles can lead to unnecessary conflict and emotional reactions. It also highlights one of the biggest distinctions between speaking styles across cultures: whether someone is a direct or an indirect communicator.

To better understand the distinction, think about what you would do if you were in the car with someone who has forgotten to turn on the headlights. Would you:

1. Quickly say, “Hey, turn your lights on.”

2. Gently ask, “Did you turn your lights on yet?”

3. Casually note, “It’s very dark outside tonight, isn’t it?”

If you are someone who appreciates the “tell it to me straight” approach, you probably picked 1. If you prefer a slightly less direct manner, 2 is clearly a better option. And for those sensitive to embarrassment and mood disruption, option 3 should do the trick.

We each have our own personal preferences when it comes to being direct or indirect, but culture also plays a significant role. If you come from a national, regional, or even organizational culture that places a high value on saving face, for example, you are more likely to use an indirect communication style, like the Korean colleague in the scenario just described. Social scientists refer to cultures in which people tend to express themselves indirectly as high context, meaning that there is a heavy reliance on contextual clues to communicate, like carefully choosing words to avoid losing face or expressing respect and rank through eye contact. Indirect comments are often carefully and strategically crafted to minimize embarrassment and offensiveness. Questions, requests, and responses are framed to save face in ways that may seem unnecessary to someone from another culture, as in letting someone know that they’ve forgotten to turn their headlights on.

On the other end of the spectrum are low-context cultures, in which communication is more explicit and speaking styles are more direct, with few contextual clues required. In low-context cultures, words can often be taken at face value and there’s relatively less need to read meaning into contextual cues (including nonverbal cues, which we will explore in the next chapter).

Whether people tend to be direct or indirect when they communicate is only part of what qualifies a culture as high or low context—but in my experience, it’s the one that creates the most challenges. Daily occurrences at work—like making requests, running meetings, delivering feedback, and setting expectations—are potential pitfalls if the people interacting are accustomed to different levels of directness.

One of the most confusing and frustrating crash points has to do with the seemingly simple act of saying “no.” In cultures that tend more toward indirect communication, people are more likely to avoid saying no if possible. Instead, they say yes even when they mean no, or they do a verbal dance to avoid giving a definitive answer. It might go something like this:

Q: Can you work with Harper to plan the community event for next week?

A: The next event is very soon. Harper is good at planning them—much better than I am.

The responder might have been implying either that they were too busy to do it now, or that they didn’t like working with Harper. People on the receiving end of this kind of indirect framing are supposed to read between the lines. The problem is, if someone comes from a culture where direct responses are expected, they are likely to take the words at face value and miss the true message.

An interior designer I know encountered this kind of communication crash while working with a group of Mexican architects. Several times the designer (a U.S. native) asked them to deliver a specific style of drawing. They always said yes, but they would never deliver. After weeks of frustration, it finally occurred to him that the architects were saying no without saying no. Perhaps they didn’t have the capacity to produce these kinds of drawings or simply didn’t think they were necessary. In other situations, the architects were fairly direct with him about their opinions and ideas, so it didn’t occur to him that they wouldn’t be up front about this.

His story underscores an important point about verbal communication styles: they change depending on the context. No matter what culture you hail from, chances are you range between direct and indirect, depending on the situation: softening your commentary to preserve face in some situations, being more direct in others. Knowing when to be direct or indirect is an essential and highly nuanced facet of communication that can vary widely among national, regional, workplace, and community cultures. The nuances are partly based on personal style and largely based on cultural programming and expectations.

To get a better sense of whether you tend more toward directness or indirectness, scan the following lists of behavioral patterns. Put a checkmark (actual or mental) next to your general preferences and see if your tendencies align more with the descriptions in column A (Direct) or column B (Indirect).

Despite the variables—and even if your tendencies are split evenly down the middle—this chart offers a good way to fix the “true north” on your personal communication compass. In turn, this will help you with the next step: recognizing your perceptions of directness and indirectness in various scenarios—and adjusting your reactions to yield better results.

Assertive, Aggressive, or Passive:

Recognizing Perceptions and Adjusting Reactions

The fact that the same words can be interpreted very differently across cultures can be problematic on multiple levels, but it’s how we react to these interpretations that can really lead to big trouble. The way that we outwardly respond to our interpretations can lead to a culture crash—or enable us to avert one. For example, if I’m from a culture that tends toward a more direct communication style, I may become annoyed if someone isn’t more direct with me, as I did in that scenario in which my Korean colleague indirectly told me to turn on my headlights. I would be frustrated by a perceived waste of time or perceive the speaker as lacking confidence or behaving suspiciously. My negative reactions would be reflected in what I say, my tone, and my body language. Conversely, someone from a culture where people tend to be relatively indirect communicators might have a negative reaction to someone else’s more direct style of speaking. Their outward responses might reflect their perception of the speaker’s blunt style as being rude, disrespectful, or thoughtless.

One way to reduce the likelihood of these kinds of crashes is to recognize when something someone said or wrote makes you feel confused, surprised, or annoyed—then hit your personal pause button and consider whether you might be in the midst of a direct-indirect crash. It may take a few seconds or even a few minutes, but once you open your mind to the idea that you might be misinterpreting what someone is saying, you can adjust your reaction to avoid harming the relationship. In the headlight scenario, if I had been more attuned to differences in communication styles I might have recognized that I was perplexed by my Korean colleague’s starlight ruminations. In turn, this would’ve prompted me to consider if he was trying to communicate something indirectly, perhaps to save me from embarrassment. Bearing in mind the “why” behind his words, instead of voicing my aggravation I would have been more likely to switch on my lights with a quick smile, acknowledging his hint. This would have avoided frustration and saved face, and maybe even saved me from driving into the bushes.

Culture crashes between indirect and direct communicators can occur in countless situations, but the crashes can be particularly tense when it comes to giving and receiving feedback. We give and receive feedback in every aspect of our lives, from offering an opinion about a business plan or a piece of art to admiring a new haircut. Everybody has their own way of doing it, but culture often plays a role.

I’m frequently called upon to help people avoid feedback crashes at U.S.-based companies that have hired international staff to work in U.S.-based headquarters—or have set up satellite offices in other countries. In one instance, an American employee was dumbfounded by the negative feedback she received from a Dutch colleague, who told her in no uncertain terms that her work was subpar and unacceptable. It went something like this:

Your report is not good enough. Your data is weak. Work on it and send it to me again.

As a result, the American employee reached out to human resources to lodge a complaint about her Dutch colleague’s aggressive communication style. The Dutch colleague was totally shocked by this reaction, because in her mind, she was just giving feedback in a professional way. It was by no means intended as a personal attack.

People from the United States often think of themselves as direct, but in truth, there are a number of other cultures in which people tend to be even more direct. In general, we cannot accurately judge our own degree of directness or indirectness until we experience other behaviors that provide a point of reference. Think about how you prefer to give and receive feedback about a report. How would you have perceived that negative feedback from the Dutch colleague—as aggressive or assertive? Would it have been more acceptable to you if she had offered feedback like this?

The report you submitted is a good start. There are some things that you need to develop further, but otherwise it seems fine. Keep up the good work!

Or maybe you are accustomed to an even more indirect and face-saving style, like this:

The graphics in the report were very well done. Do you think we should proceed with the data as is?

Or would you think that response was too vague and passive? Not unlike Goldilocks trying out the three chairs (too hard, too soft, or just right), we each have our own comfort zones when it comes to receiving and giving feedback and other forms of verbal communication. Social psychologists have boiled down our interpretations of different communication styles into three main categories: passive, aggressive, or assertive. Most people think of passive and aggressive as negative qualities, while being assertive is viewed as a positive behavior. The catch is that what one person perceives as assertive, another may perceive as aggressive or passive, and vice versa.

Thankfully, it’s possible to detect these differences in intention. For example, the U.S. American employee could have noted how irritated she was by the email, and then paused to consider if the Dutch colleague had previously sent positive emails in a similarly blunt tone. If so, that would suggest this was just her normal way of communicating and there was no need to be offended. If the U.S. American was not able to adjust her emotional response to the direct tone, however, another option would be to have an open discussion with the Dutch colleague, letting her know how her emails were being perceived. Although it may not resolve the issue completely, with better awareness on both sides communication usually improves.

The way that differing perceptions of aggressive, assertive, and passive behavior play out along cultural lines is particularly notable when comparing Japanese and U.S. culture. I recently flew to Tokyo to work with a Japanese division of a well-known U.S. tech company. The company had hired me to help train the Japanese employees to be more assertive. The problem was that the U.S. American staff members perceived their Japanese counterparts as passive and disengaged, largely because the Japanese coworkers didn’t speak up enough in meetings and didn’t offer their opinions or provide direct responses—all behaviors that the U.S. Americans equate with assertiveness.

When I talked to the Japanese employees, however, they didn’t see themselves as passive at all. They actually perceived the U.S. Americans as aggressive for being so direct in their feedback style, and because they never stopped talking long enough for any of the Japanese to enter the conversation. Many Japanese are programmed from childhood to not interrupt others who are talking (that would be considered aggressive), so it’s little wonder that they would have trouble jumping into the conversation and that they might perceive the U.S. American’s interruptions as rude and aggressive.

During my time with the Japanese staff, I made them aware of all these misperceptions, and I had them practice being more assertive as defined by their U.S. American colleagues. Overriding their cultural instincts will be no small feat, but with practice it will become easier and will surely build mutual confidence among team members from the two different cultures, ultimately leading to greater overall effectiveness and productivity.

Any time we interact with someone from another culture, we are prone to apply labels like aggressive, assertive, or passive based on varying levels of directness and indirectness. Our minds unconsciously apply these labels in countless other aspects of our lives too, causing us to make judgments based on misinterpreted information. Of course, this also means that people are making assumptions about us and what we are trying to communicate based on misinterpreted information.

Adding to the complexity, our perception of a particular communication style can change depending on the situation. For example, think about your expectations when you go shopping for large household electronics, like a television. Do you expect the salesperson to approach you, ask questions, and offer advice? Would you see this as assertive or aggressive behavior? But what if you were shopping for food in a large grocery store and a salesperson acted the same way. Does your expectation or perception change depending on what you’re buying?

Whether shopping, getting feedback from a colleague, negotiating a business deal, bargaining at a market, or simply chatting with a friend, if we think someone is being aggressive it can automatically send us into flight-or-fight mode. Conversely, when we perceive someone as being assertive, our brain usually engages in a positive way. I am much more likely to buy something from a salesperson who meets my personal definition of assertive. In my case, this includes asking if I need assistance (but only once) and answering my questions in a confident, friendly, and prompt manner. For others, their definition of assertive may include either less or more communication. For some, friendliness may not be required, while for others, being assertive may entail having an extended conversation that has nothing to do with the potential purchase.

There is no right or wrong when it comes to your perceptions of aggressive, assertive, or passive communication styles. Similarly, while you might think of being direct or indirect as having advantages or shortcomings in certain situations, the point is not to judge the merits of each, but to understand that they can easily lead to a culture crash if we don’t consider how we might misinterpret the words we hear (or don’t hear)—or how our words may be misinterpreted. Once our minds are open to this, we can detect the clues and adjust our reactions accordingly.

For example, if my intent is to be direct and assertive but I notice people backing away or acting defensive, they might perceive me as aggressive. This is my cue to try softening my tone and volume. If my intent is to be assertive, but I sense that people are not paying attention or not including me in the discussion, they might perceive me as being passive. In this instance, I would try shifting my style by speaking with more volume, speaking more succinctly, or simply speaking up. There’s no failsafe method of ensuring that people will understand your intentions, but you’ll increase the odds by looking for clues like these and tweaking your communication style until the response feels right.

It can be particularly challenging—and frustrating—to adjust for assertiveness if you are a woman. There is a tendency in many cultures to view a woman’s communication style as more aggressive than if a man had delivered the message in the exact same way. It’s a classic double standard that is often worsened when cultural differences are thrown into the mix. Also, men may feel that they can be more or less direct when communicating with women than with men, depending on the situation. Whether you are male or female, communication across genders can be complex and fraught with both conscious and unconscious biases. It’s up to each of us to size up the interaction, consider the cultural programming of the man or woman with whom we are interacting, and decide how—or if—we want to proceed with the communication.

Communication Style by Country

Nineteen-year-old Edward T. Hall began his career the same way that most other cultural anthropologists did in the first half of the twentieth century: by immersing himself in the study of singular cultures. From 1933 through 1937, Hall lived and worked with the Navajo and the Hopi on Native American reservations in Arizona.³ As his career evolved over the years, so too did his vision for a new approach to cultural anthropology. Instead of studying single cultures or comparing entire cultures to each other, Hall began to focus on the interactions between people of different cultures, and in doing so laid the foundation for this fascinating field of study to which I’ve dedicated my career.

One of the catalysts for this new focus came as a result of Hall’s stint at the U.S. State Department in the 1950s, where he taught inter-cultural communications skills to foreign-service staff. By addressing the issues and needs of his students, Hall began amassing a body of research related to points of divergence between cultures. As his work continued into the 1960s and ’70s, he introduced a number of concepts related to intercultural relations that formed the basis of future work by cross-cultural scholars and educators around the globe.⁴

One of Hall’s most widely known concepts is the notion of high context and low context⁵ that I mentioned earlier in the chapter. But also notable—and useful—is that Hall plotted the results of his studies along a spectrum, which can be used to help anticipate if people are more likely to be direct or indirect communicators. Although he plotted his results more than four decades ago, subsequent studies have upheld most of his findings. Many recent studies have also translated the notion of high and low context into more user-friendly and specific terms, creating spin-off spectrums that relate to things like tolerance for silence and being indirect versus direct.

One of the more comprehensive direct-indirect studies was conducted by The Brannen Group, a global cross-cultural consulting firm. In the study, which involved over two hundred thousand participants from around the globe, people were given a series of questions to answer related to their communication preferences in a variety of situations. The results were ranked on a scale from 1 to 100, with the lowest number being the most indirect and the highest the most direct. Figure 3.1 shows a sample of how some countries are ranked when plotted along a spectrum.

It’s important to note that these rankings reflect the way people tend to communicate during the initial stages of relationship building. As Brannen Group CEO Chris Brannen explained to me in an email:

This is because many cultures that rank on the indirect end of the communication dimension can often become surprisingly direct once the business relationship is established. As a notable example of this shift, Japanese, in general, are initially indirect in communications. However, when two negotiating parties are no longer strangers and the business relationship has become established, the Japanese cultural norm can switch rather dramatically to the direct end of the communication dimension. A similar switch from an indirect to a direct communication style can also occur in other cultures, for example, the Middle East, China, and Spain.

Figure 3.1: Country styles on the Indirect-Direct continuum. Data from The Brannen Group.

Of course, not everyone from a certain culture will demonstrate the same degree of directness or indirectness when building relationships, partly because the individual’s personality and preferences always play a role. Some people may be indirect when it comes to giving bad news, for example, but they may communicate in a much more direct way when giving feedback. The spectrum does show that certain countries lean more toward direct or indirect communication styles—tendencies that often ring true, in my experience. Identifying tendencies is a great way to start figuring people out, as long as we remember that there are always exceptions. It also helps you gauge whether your own tendencies are right in line with those of your home culture, or not.

The same kind of spectrum can be created for regional differences, often reflecting varying levels of directness among people in northern, southern, eastern, and western areas of a single country. You can also chart the communication style of organizations, including companies, non-profit ventures, government, educational institutions, and so on. Through my work in Silicon Valley, I’ve witnessed surprisingly stark differences in how people tend to communicate at tech companies like Google, Apple, Uber, and Evernote. Some of these business cultures encourage more indirect communication styles among their staff as a means of maintaining a strong sense of camaraderie and harmony. In other places, employees and consultants are expected to be vocal and to the point about opinions that can advance the company’s goals. There tends to be little sugarcoating because there’s less emphasis on maintaining group harmony.

From start-up cupcake shops to nationwide legal firms to global health institutes, each group cultivates its own way of communicating. When you start working with any organization, it’s essential to get familiar with expectations for levels of directness in various situations, particularly for giving and receiving feedback, making requests, engaging in small talk, and voicing displeasure. You will undoubtedly find greater success if you check your assumptions at the door, take time to observe how people interact in the organization, and consider if you need to modify your personal communication style and perceptions.

When There Are No Words: Silence

In my house, the chatter is fairly constant. When I go out with friends in my neighborhood, there’s rarely a gap of more than a few seconds before someone feels compelled to say something. Same goes for business negotiations. When it’s quiet in the car for more than five seconds, my young daughter asks: “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t realize how uncomfortable I was with silence in conversations until I began working in places where people were comfortable with silence. Over the years I’ve become more at ease with silence, but it can still feel awkward, largely because I was programmed to feel that way from a very young age.

When kids in the United States misbehave, they’re often given a time-out, which usually means that they have to stay in part of a room by themselves and are forbidden to make a noise or converse with anyone else. When they have successfully completed their silent time, they are allowed to return to the land of noise. The message is quite clear to most kids: Silence equals punishment. Talking equals reward. Later in life people are introduced to the “silent treatment” as a means of expressing displeasure with someone. Nothing makes me beg forgiveness faster than this close-lipped type of communication. For me and most other U.S. natives, silence creates a strong sense of discomfort and often signals that someone is unhappy with us.

There’s an experiment that I like to do in my workshops in which I pause after completing a thought, as if I’m contemplating my next statement. But instead of taking a one- to two-second pause, I remain silent for about five to seven seconds—and I observe what happens with my audience. In the United States, the majority of the audience starts to cough, laugh, talk to themselves out loud, and get wiggly in their seats right around the three-second mark. The signs of discomfort just increase as the time passes. Afterward, I ask the audience how my silence made them feel. For many, it’s excruciatingly awkward. It’s an unexpected occurrence that makes people assume there is a problem. Participants tell me that they think that I forgot what I was about to say, I’m not feeling well, or I had a sudden and urgent realization—like leaving the stove on in my house or having missed my mother’s birthday.

Next I ask participants to extrapolate: “What is your gut reaction when a question you ask is met with silence, whether it be by a colleague, customer, friend, or family member?” People native to the United States generally assume that their question wasn’t understood by the listener, or that the listener didn’t know the answer or simply didn’t like the question. They tend to see silence as a negative.

When I put this question to people from other cultures, however, they may tell me that their first interpretation of the silence is to assume the listener is thinking, taking time to formulate a thoughtful and accurate response to the question. In their way of communicating, longer silences are expected and appreciated. People from these cultures don’t get wiggly until about the seven-second mark, if at all. I recently asked a group of Japanese people participating in my workshop what they thought might be their tolerance for an extended silence during a conversation, and their response was “About thirty seconds.”

In just the same way that I was programmed early in life to associate silence with negativity, people from other cultures may have been programmed to associate silence with positive attributes like thoughtful consideration and harmony.

In many cultures, kids are conditioned from an early age to tolerate silences of five seconds or more—what others would consider prolonged. A client of mine from Finland recalls being taught from a young age not to rush into responses; to take time to contemplate questions and respond thoughtfully. She explained to me that during conversations, there are very few “Uh-huhs,” “Yeps, “Hmmms,” or other silence fillers needed to indicate that a person is still listening or thinking. She said that silences are perceived as treasured moments and signs of respect, and they are expected in all forms of conversation.

Programming around silence is also reflected and reinforced through religion. In countries where Buddhism is dominant—like Thailand, Myanmar, and Japan, for example—people practice their religion by sitting in a silent meditative state, sometimes for hours on end. Emphasis is placed on quieting all internal dialogue in an effort to achieve a higher state of consciousness. Silence is an essential part of the path to enlightenment.

On the extreme opposite end of the sound spectrum are certain Christian denominations in the United States, in which loud songs and fervent oratory characterize the spiritual path. During the Sunday sermons at Glide Memorial Church in San Francisco, the reverend frequently and purposefully gets louder and louder as he builds up to the climax of his sermon. The congregation responds to any pauses with equal gusto, issuing a thunderous “Amen” at the appropriate points. As the sermon reaches a crescendo, the music begins and everybody starts singing, clapping, and stomping their feet, creating a surge of sound intended to bring everyone closer to touching the divine.

Comparing this to the Buddhist way represents two ends of the spectrum, but every religion uses sound in different ways—ways that seep into our subconscious, shaping our perceptions of silence. Over the years I have seen opposing perceptions of silence lead to unfortunate cross-cultural misunderstandings. One arena in which silence can really wreak havoc is the dreaded global conference call, whether people on either end of the call are actually abroad or just from different cultural backgrounds. Maybe this scenario will sound familiar to you:

YOU: Can we get a status update?

THEM: A few seconds of silence

YOU: Did you get that? I asked for an update? Can you hear me?

THEM: More silence

YOU: Hello? Are you guys there? (Nervously looking at others in the room)

Barring technical and translation problems, another common explanation is that the people on the other end of the line are simply thinking about the question, gathering consensus, or trying to figure out how to thoughtfully answer the question or minimize any loss of face.

Whether on a call like this or in person, it can be hard to keep our kneejerk responses at bay. But in truth, it’s easily navigated just by having some patience. I often suggest that my clients allow seven seconds before starting to ask follow-up questions. Those seven seconds may seem like an eternity to some, but patience usually pays off. Seven seconds allows time for people to process the question, translate it into their native language and then back again if needed, build consensus, and then formulate a well-thought-out response. If you put yourself in their shoes and consider all that needs to be accomplished, even seven seconds starts to feel inadequate.

Conversely, if you’re talking with people who are uncomfortable with silence, it’s best to respond promptly if possible. Even if you don’t have an immediate answer, you can always let them know you need a few seconds to respond. Chances are they won’t mind waiting a few more seconds. A simple “Yes,” “Got it,” or “Let me think about it for a moment” is an easy way to acknowledge that you are engaged, and can go a long way toward easing the minds of others who are wary of silence.

Whether communicating with someone virtually or face to face, your best bet for figuring out if that person perceives silence as a positive or negative is to recognize how the silence is making you feel, then consider some of the other ways of perceiving silence that we’ve discussed in this chapter, and finally, adjust your response and see how it plays out.

Reminding yourself of your own comfort level with silence even before the meeting starts could enable you to head off feelings of unease or aggravation even more quickly. How long is too long to be silent? When do you get wiggly? Test it out with a friend and consider what silence means to you. Only after you do that can you truly start to open your mind to different ways of perceiving silence. Of course, silence is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to communicating without words, which is why we will spend the next chapter exploring how other forms of nonverbal communication are used and perceived in ways that you—or anyone—may be barely aware of.

CULTURE KEY

Quick Tips for Direct-Indirect Crossings

General Advice: Avoid sarcasm, which can easily be misinterpreted across cultures.