Listen up:The Power [and Business] of Listening

In a WSJ column a few weeks ago (which I believe you need to subscribe to in order to access), Jared Sandberg wrote about a course he'd just taken on "The Power of Listening." At this two-day course, sponsored by Cornell's school of Industrial Labor Relations, Sandberg learned that:

Bad listeners tend to tune out dry subjects, get into arguments, fake attention, react to emotional words and daydream. (Wow, do humans actually drink from that encrusted water tower on the building across the street?) While allegedly listening, bad listeners often are rehearsing what they're about to say, grab every conversational opening and scout for flaws in an argument.

Well, who among us - even the best of all possible listeners - isn't guilty of some of that at one time or another.

And who can blame us. After all:

Humans speak at an average pace of between 110 to 200 words per minute, but they can understand in a range of 400 to 3,000 words per minute. "Human beings can't produce at the rate our brains find interesting," says Ms. Grau. [Jennifer Grau, the instructor in Sandberg's course.]

With my brain going at somewhere between 400 to 3,000 wpm, it's no wonder that I prefer fast talkers. Good thing, because I'm surrounded by them (and am, in fact, one myself - I think I'd go nuts living in the South where the speakers are often too languid for words).

Whatever the reason, on any number of occasions, I tune people out, and the person I tune out the most often if, quite naturally, my husband. He spends much of the day alone, in his own head. On any given day, I have more professional, personal, and casual conversations than Jim does. When I get home, he wants to talk, but I'm generally not prepared to listen. Some days, I just tune him right out. I want to read the paper, go through my mail, watch the news. The last thing I want to do is hear him yammering about what some repair man did, what the mail man told him, or what new frequent flyer miles opportunity he's uncovered. (He's obsessed.)

But I do try, even though I sometimes feel as if I am almost physically forcing myself to listen.

Sometimes I tune out when I'm on the phone with somebody. This is usually because I'm sitting in front of the computer, and the temptation to parallel process - check e-mail, google something or someone - is just too great.

Mostly, however, I'm a pretty good listener. People seem to like to tell me things. I'm good at getting them to open up. I'm good at keeping the conversation - sometimes "their" monologue - going.

I do, however, see the need for listening training - especially in business, where we've all had to suffer through those meetings where everyone's looking to score points - and keep score of the points they've made. No one's really paying attention to what anyone else is saying, except to use it as a springboard to jump in and start talking. 

The worst offenders in business are often sales people who are so intent on getting their message out that they never give the prospect the opportunity to speak. Which is, of course, too bad, because the sales guy would have a far better chance of getting the deal if they actually listened to what the prospect was saying. There may actually be hints, clues, buying signals in there! And, frankly, I have yet to meet anyone who wouldn't rather talk about their problems or situation or business than listen to you give your premature spiel about "the solution."

After reading Sandberg's column, I thought I'd troll around and read up a bit on listening. As it turns out, it's quite a business, with all sorts of practitioners out there training people on listening skills.

For starters, the cost of taking the Cornell course is $1295.00 for a two day session, during which you can learn to "harness and apply the power of listening."

As practitioners do, professional listener-ists have their own organization - International Listening Association, an organization which (quite sweetly) claims to have "a warm and caring nature". The ILA has members in 15 countries and 49 states. Hmmmm. I wonder which state has no members? Maybe it's one of those fast-talking states - like New York, New Jersey, or Massachusetts. But my guess it's one of those taciturn states like Montana or North Dakota. If nobody talks to begin with, it really doesn't matter if nobody listens, is there?

The ILA's charter is the "study, development, and teaching of effective listening in all settings... to share information, to support research efforts, and to promote the practice and teaching of effective listening.

I actually like the idea of people learning to become better listeners. Above all, people like to be heard.

But that street goes both ways. Some of the times when I know I've been at my most effective as a listener, I've come away from the "conversation" somewhat shocked by just how little interest the other party has shown in me.

Once again, my most horrifically fascinating experiences have tended to be - ta-da - sales guys. Years ago, I spent two days in Montreal with a salesman and learned pretty much everything there was to know about him including how much he paid for his suits (a lot), not to mention a full rundown on all the souvenir plates he'd purchased over the years for his mother. (I got to hear about this when we went shopping for one.) Throughout our time together, I kept asking move-things-along questions ("Does your mother display her souvenir plates?") and making confirming statements ("Yes, your suit is very nice.").

Maybe I should have slipped in a question or two that would have given him the hint that I might want to talk, or, indeed, have something to say. ("You know, for a while there, my mother collected souvenir spoons." Or "I bought an expensive suit once.") But, no, I just kept him cranking, as I did in any number of other similar situations.

It would have been one thing if I'd been with someone who actually might have had a fascinating life, major accomplishments, truly interesting experiences, scintillating things to say: Bill Clinton. Hillary Clinton. Bob Dylan. Meryl Streep. John Updike. Prince Charles. Prince.

But, no, I was stuck with being a good listener to people who were almost awe-inspiringly ordinary.

That said, I will try to become an even better listener. I can't promise that I'll fully listen up to Jim's next go-round on frequent flyer miles, but I promise that I will not google when I'm on the phone. Unless I'm on call waiting, trying to sign up for yet another miles-yielding credit card.