Speaking to the Elephant

Imagine you’re in one of those situations that you find frustrating; you need to convince someone of a point and you’re not succeeding.  Perhaps a lot rides on your influencing them.  Maybe it’s a justice issue.  It could be something important and they’re a decision maker, and they’re not seeing the world as you do.

The world seems craziest to us when it runs counter to how we see things should go.

Living in the ‘age of outrage’, where the noisiest voices appeal most to the algorithms, there’s little wonder that most people feel their best chance of influencing change is when they mount their soap box.

But speaking out can have the opposite effect.  Maybe we get kudos from the crowd who understand us and vouch for what we advocate, but no matter how popular we are with that crowd, we may be no closer to effecting real change—where it matters. 

The ancient principle of truth means there’s always an abiding to the same rules.  What was, is, and will be.  What worked a thousand years ago between protagonist humans still works today.

Here’s the theory: imagine the person we’re trying to influence is an elephant and a rider ensemble. Their rider is the decision maker, but their elephant informs everything—feelings, attitudes, reason, will, everything.  In achieving influence, we cannot just shout at their rider saying, “Come on you stupid fool; your thinking and actions are archaic and destructive.”

Their rider wants any excuse to knock us back, so we must speak to their elephant.

We cannot convince anyone who is otherwise convinced of an opposite perspective other than by approaching the issue from their side, achieving some rapport, endeavouring to understand.  In this, we speak to their elephant—the biggest part of them in any matter.

The trouble with all of us is we all expect to be understood before we’ll seek to understand.  Remember what St Francis of Assisi said in his famous prayer: “Seek not so much to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand.”

We’re far more able to get people to change their views when we ourselves prove we’re ready to have our own views challenged—when there’s wiggle room in our perceptions, i.e., we prove we have the humility to learn anew.  Vulnerability and open heartedness are respectful and they nurture trust.  We convince nobody if there’s no trust.

You don’t need to change your mind to adopt some congruence in what someone’s saying.

Speaking to someone else’s elephant rather than shouting at their rider is not just employing logic, but ethics and empathy too; not just ethics, but logic and empathy too; not just empathy, but ethics and logic too.

It’s the fuller commitment to the conversation that the other person needs to see.

The person we’re endeavouring to convince must know that we’re also open enough to be convinced.  They must know that underneath our disagreement, that we’re FOR them and not against them.

What happens when we relate with people who expect and even demand we change for them, but they’re not prepared to change one iota for us?  Resentment builds.  A person might have a win, but they shoot themselves in the foot by winning an uneven and uncompromising battle.

If only we’re prepared to invest something in the relationship with the person we’re battling with, then there is social currency in establishing rapport so we BOTH can win.

This is a truth: none of us corner the market in truth.  Another’s truth is just as important as ours is.  Seeing this is the start of wonderful outcomes because we then potentially turn opponents into genuine collaborators.  At the very least, respect given earns respect.

Shout at people and you might look good, but are you really achieving anything?

We have much enhanced our chances of influencing people when we’re collaborators rather than combatants.

Photo by Andre Mouton on Unsplash