The Conversation We Aren’t Having

Why We Must Face What We Want to Avoid

I once worked on a book about the psychology of sales.¹ It was a “ghost write,” but as is often the case with these projects, I ended up being the editor, filling in gaps and helping a lifelong sales professional break down his ideas about persuasion into bite-sized chunks that would resonate with a business audience.

His approach surprised me. The number one thing a person needs to get someone else to buy from them or believe them is not some slick presentation or “magic words” to close the deal. It’s far simpler than that.

What is it?

Openness. You have to be receptive to other people’s ideas before they’ll ever listen to yours. To truly change someone’s mind, you ironically have to be willing to change your own first. Only then do you have any hope of winning someone over to your cause. Persuasion, in other words, begins with being persuadable.

Or to quote my client, you have to be willing to “take the trip.”

Take the Trip

When two or more people are in a heated debate or just not seeing eye to eye on an issue, it is as if they are on the same planet but at two separate poles of the globe. The realities facing each person look fundamentally different to the other.

It’s only when, or if, one person takes a trip to the other side that they have any hope of understanding another’s point-of-view and therefore what might cause them to change their minds. You can’t persuade someone you don’t understand.

We all have ideas about the way the world should be, but we so often neglect to understand where those ideas came from. Where you stand determines what you see, so if you want to experience more of the world, you’re going to have to move around.

This principle isn’t valuable just in sales, of course; it’s fundamental to how we approach difficult conversations every single day. If we want more than a world in which we are constantly tearing each other apart over the slightest disagreement, we have to be willing to consider that another way is possible.

That doesn’t necessarily mean some wishy-washy disposition unworthy of respect. It doesn’t mean a lack of conviction, either. What it means is a daily posture of humility and a willingness to admit when you are wrong.

Surely, we could use a little more of that, no?

A National Conversation

This week, another client of mine released a new book on the importance of character in a person’s life (which I wrote about last week).

As part of the media tour to promote it, the author—retired General Stanley McChrystal—appeared on The Daily Show for an interview with Jon Stewart.

In the interview, General McChrystal issued a challenge to the American people: We ought to be having a national conversation on the subject of “character.” I thought it was a worthy challenge, and one we should deeply consider, especially at a time when it feels like truth and goodness are as ephemeral as the weather. What does it mean to be a person of character in a world where the ends seem to continually justify the means? What sort of character do we as a country want to cultivate? What will we ultimately stand for?

This conversation, of course, is not a comfortable one. It requires us to examine who we are and what’s possible. Facing reality doesn’t always feel good, but this is the only way we can make things better.

Far too often, humans limit their understanding of what could be to what has been. As a result, we end up living smaller, less interesting lives that we could.

For example, we tend to ask, “How can I lose twenty pounds?” instead of, “How good can I feel in my body?” We relegate our health to the elimination of something perceived as negative instead of maximizing a potential positive.

And we do this in myriad ways in a number of circumstances.

Instead of living lives of meaning and contribution, we settle for pursuits of wealth and status. We prize freedom over cooperation or public good. We value consumption over contentment and wonder why everyone seems so unhappy all the time.

As a risk-averse species, we optimize for the lowest hanging fruit, namely how we can ratchet up our pleasure while scaling back the pain. We focus on short-term gratification instead of zooming out to consider the bigger picture, because it might mean a personal inconvenience. It is an egoic existence. Personally, though, I am bored by the question, “How do I get more of what I already have?” It’s not interesting to me, not anymore. If some swami in India clothed in nothing more than a few rags can spend his days begging on the street while existing in a state of total bliss, what sense does it make for me to worry about my 401(k)?

It doesn’t. I can and should be asking more important questions about my life. “If you don’t like what’s being said,” Don Draper once remarked, “change the conversation.”

Life is full of all sorts of dialogues with ourselves and with others, and it is up to us which conversations we choose to continue having. We can, indeed, change things in and around us, and that begins with the conversation we are avoiding.

Ask a Better Question

A good friend likes to remind me that most questions are really just assumptions in disguise. When we ask, for instance, “How are you doing?” what we’re often really saying is, “You good?”

Once we get the affirmative answer we’re expecting, we move on to the next challenge. Who has time for a more detailed or nuanced conversation about the state of a person’s soul when the rent’s due and we’ve got mouths to feed? It is simply a matter of margin.

Well, margin—and a willingness to be uncomfortable.

We don’t show genuine concern for others because it doesn’t feel great to listen to people’s problems. And we don’t take a hard look in the mirror very often because we’re afraid of what we’ll see. If we slowed down enough, we might realize how desperately we’re sprinting towards a finish line that doesn’t matter. It’s easier just to keep moving without thinking too deeply about what we’re doing or where we’re headed.

Introspection often demands transformation, so it’s best to not delve into the abyss of our own psyche. Ask simple questions, get simple answers, move on. But some conversations must be had, and they come into our lives whether we’re ready for them or not.

A “real conversation,” the poet David Whyte puts it, is one that happens with or without you. It is essential. This is what the sages seemed to have been getting at for all those centuries. Some issues require our attention, because ignoring them does not make them go away.

Character, I think, is one of those, which is why it has been a matter of debate among philosophers for generations. Who we are and how we live matters; it’s what makes our world what it is. So, if we want a better one, we need a better conversation. And that begins by asking more interesting questions.

It takes a certain curiosity, I think, a willingness to see the world from another perspective, to ask a truly great question; and to do that, we’ve got to shake things up a little. We need to get uncomfortable. There is something virtuous in doing this, something unavoidably human about being real with ourselves and coming to grips with what we don’t want to see. This is how we grow, how we evolve. It takes a willingness to converse, and to convene, with those we’d rather silence.

To enter into these conversations, we have to not only meet others in the middle but go beyond our basic comfort zone. We must be willing to be offended and surprised by what we find once we “take the trip.” Only then can we hope to have a meaningful dialogue about who we are, what we ought to stand for, and what is truly good.

So, yes. I hope we have that national conversation about character. And I hope we do it sooner rather than later, while we still have the time and opportunity to change not only the world—but ourselves in the process.

P.S. If you haven’t picked up this book yet, it’s well worth the read and might be a great jumping-off point for a discussion on character.

P.P.S. What’s one conversation you’re not having that requires your attention?

The book in question was Unreceptive by Tom Stanfill.

Thank you for reading The Ghost. This post is public so feel free to share it.

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© 2025 Jeff Goins
548 Market Street PMB 72296, San Francisco, CA 94104
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