Chapter 6: Confessional Communication, page 16
Yes But: Marietta and David
My wife, Marietta, and I were trying to print something from our computer. We printed several documents that were not the document we really needed. When it got to our document, the printer jammed.
“Dammit,” I said, “The printer is jammed.”
“Oh, no problem,” Marietta said. “A paper jam is easy to fix.”
“Yes, but not on this printer,” I said. “The printer display says undo the back. I tried but the back won’t come off.”
“Yes but,” Marietta said, “you don’t know how. I do.”
“But I do know how,” I said. “It’s my printer. The back is hard to undo.”
“But I haven’t tried it yet,” Marietta replied. “Let me get at the back of the printer.” I had been trying with no success to open the back of the printer. She turned the printer so that she could get to its back.
“But I almost had it open,” I said.
“But you don’t know what you are doing,” she replied, “and I do.”
“But even if you get it open, you won’t know how to unjam the paper.”
I could go on, but I think you have probably read enough. In this conversation Marietta and I were frustrated with the printer. We took out our frustration on one another by competing to be the hero who fixed the printer. We both wanted to redeem our failure at the expense of the other. “Yes but” were the introductory words to our contest.
Now consider how the conversation might go if we used the words “yes and” instead.
“Dammit,” I said. “The printer is jammed.”
“Oh no problem,” Marietta said. “A paper jam is easy to fix.”
“Yes but,” I said and then I caught myself. “Let me start over again. Yes, perhaps in your experience with other printers a paper jam has been easily fixed. My experience with this printer is that paper jams are difficult to fix.”
“Yes but,” Marietta began. Then she caught herself and said, “Let me start over, too. So your experience with paper jams on this printer has been frustrating. So what have you tried?”
“The printer says here that you have to open the printer from the back to get to the jam. That’s hard enough and pulling the jammed paper out is even harder.”
“Can I take a look at the back of the printer?” Marietta asked.
I turned the back of the printer to face her. She made a couple of attempts to undo the back and said, “This is not easy.”
“And it is even harder to put back once it’s out.”
Then she pushed something and the back popped out.
“How did that happen!” she exclaimed.
“I feel the same way when I work on a paper jam with this printer,” I said.
Wasn’t this second conversation easier to read? I hope you can tell by the contrast of these conversations that “yes and” and the spirit of acknowledging first and then adding works better than pushing away and discounting with “yes but.”
Talking together using “yes and” is like developing a recipe for a soup together. Such a conversation might go like this:
Partner #1: Let’s add some onions.
Partner #2: Yes let’s. I love onions. And let’s add some carrots.
Partner #1: Yes, a good idea and let’s turn down the heat because carrots take a long time to cook and we don’t want to cook away all the liquid.
Partner #2: Yes, good idea and let’s add some red wine.
Partner #1: Okay some wine. Now we will need something to reduce the acidity that might come from the wine. What about potatoes?
Partner #2: Potatoes, yes, and let’s boil them in water first because the wine might turn them blue.
Partner #1: Good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.
Without out “yes and” and with “yes but” instead, a conversation would hurt.Saying “yes but” is like sticking your hand in the soup and pulling out the potatoes. You will insult the other person and burn your hand in the process. “Yes and” makes you partners. “Yes but” makes you competitors.