I’m excited to share that Jesse Danger and I have begun a new podcast show, Open + Curious. I’ve been writing up my thoughts around conversation, and this podcast is a new part of the Open + Curious project. Please consider subscribing to support our efforts.
Are you looking for ways to bring conversation alive? Then you are in the right place.
In each 15-minute episode we begin with a question, and work our way to a challenge. Some questions we explore have clear answers, and some lead to more questions and further unknowns. The challenge we seek to find, at the end of each episode, is meant to help you explore each question on your own.
Exploring the fine line between adversity and challenge can transform the nature of our conversations.
In the dialogue between Craig Constantine and Jesse Danger, the conversation kicks off with a contemplative inquiry into the nature of conversations themselves, particularly the nuanced differences between adversity and challenge. Craig introduces this theme by reflecting on a quote from documentary filmmaker Errol Morris, sparking a discussion on the dynamics of adversarial interviews versus those driven by genuine curiosity. The duo delves into the observation that adversarial interactions, often characterized by a gladiatorial theater, tend not to be fruitful in learning or uncovering new insights. This discussion underscores a mutual agreement on the importance of fostering conversations that are alive with exploration and inquiry rather than contention.
I agree with everything you’re saying. I think from Errol’s quote, my first reading, I was like: Well, of course, there are adversarial interviews. But as soon as I thought about it more, then I came to this idea of adversity versus challenge. [The next] thought I had was, you know, alright, what’s the opposite of adversity? […] And I feel like the opposite of adversity should be challenge.
~ Craig Constantine 2:30
As the conversation unfolds, Jesse shares personal reflections on the moments within dialogues when he finds himself opposing someone else’s thoughts or statements. He notes the standstill that arises from such opposition and shares his strategy for softening the moment to realign on common ground, emphasizing the importance of maintaining curiosity over the need to be right. This introspective sharing leads to a broader conversation about the potential for growth in challenging conversations and the difference between encountering adversity and engaging in a challenge with a mindset geared towards understanding and respect.
What I’m noticing is that adversity—maybe by definition, at least in a lot of cases—it’s a zero-sum game. “Yes, I’m right, and you’re wrong.” And, it doesn’t hold the space. I mean, this is what [Errol was] saying in the quote, it doesn’t hold the space for both of us to come to a deeper, richer conclusion or understanding about what it is that we’re saying. I think creating this as more of the Infinite game of learning… and I think that conversation is an infinite game. At the very least the conversation is, or often is, a game of trying to uncover something new and co-created together.
~ Jesse Danger 9:50
Craig and Jesse both ponder the role of the conversationalist’s stance—how one’s openness or perceived openness to challenge and adversity can significantly influence the depth and quality of the dialogue. Through their exchange, they touch upon the idea that avoiding adversity might also mean missing out on meaningful challenges, suggesting a delicate balance in aiming for conversations that are both engaging and profound.
Takeaways
Exploring conversation dynamics — the dialogue opens with a focus on transforming conversations from adversarial encounters to inquiries driven by curiosity.
Adversity vs. challenge — a central theme is the differentiation between these concepts within the context of conversations, suggesting that while both can be present, their impacts and outcomes can vastly differ.
Personal growth through dialogue — the discussion reveals a belief that challenging conversations, approached with curiosity and respect, can lead to significant personal development and deeper understanding.
The impact of adversarial approaches — there is a consensus that adversarial interviews or interactions, while potentially entertaining, are less effective for learning or gaining new insights. Strategies for realignment in conversation — one speaker shares personal strategies for softening moments of opposition to find common ground, highlighting the importance of flexibility and adaptability in discussions.
The value of curiosity over correctness — the conversation underlines the idea that maintaining curiosity, rather than striving to be right, fosters a more open and productive dialogue environment.
Navigating difficult conversations — the talk touches on the challenge of engaging in difficult conversations, suggesting that avoiding adversity can also mean missing out on meaningful challenges.
Signaling openness to challenge — it discusses how one’s perceived stance in a conversation can greatly influence its depth, suggesting that being open to challenge can enrich dialogues.
The role of mutual respect — emphasizing the need for dignity and respect for all parties in a conversation, especially when navigating challenging topics or disagreements.
Infinite game of conversation — one theme posits that conversation is an “infinite game” aimed at uncovering new insights and co-creating understanding, rather than a “zero-sum game” where one party must be right and the other wrong.
Resources
Errol Morris — A documentary filmmaker referenced for his views on adversarial interviews versus those aimed at genuine learning. Morris is known for his in-depth explorations of complex subjects through his films. His work challenges viewers to think critically about the nature of truth and the complexities of human stories.
I’m the obsessive type. I’m ordered and process driven to a fault, but not quite (or at least, only rarely) to the point where this affects my ability to function. I’m continuously thinking about things like can I carry something else if I’m going in a certain direction— which is fine when heading out to run errands with the car, but which can stop me in my tracks, and cause me to turn in circles in place, before moving from room to room. I’m also obsessive about doing things. I’m the guy you want physically setting up your complex computer systems and networks—physically arranging everything. I’m the guy who got really into roller skating, bicycling, skiing, Aikido, scratch-building radio-controlled gliders, sailing… there’s a much longer list.
I learned one lesson on my own over the years and many obsessions: Do or do not. I am unable to “spend less time” on an obsession. I have to lean into it, or let go of it. Many of my obsessions paid off either as income or simply being useful to my personal growth. Being able to assess when continuing an obsession is not going to do either of those things for me is a hard-won skill.
But there are some heuristics you can use to guess whether an obsession might be one that matters. For example, it’s more promising if you’re creating something, rather than just consuming something someone else creates. It’s more promising if something you’re interested in is difficult, especially if it’s more difficult for other people than it is for you. And the obsessions of talented people are more likely to be promising. When talented people become interested in random things, they’re not truly random.
But you can never be sure. In fact, here’s an interesting idea that’s also rather alarming if it’s true: it may be that to do great work, you also have to waste a lot of time.
Graham’s point about creation is a second lesson about obsession. I agree, and I think an obsession’s being about creation is critical. I stumbled really near this lesson a few months ago when I wrote Being Genuine for Open + Curious where I wrote…
A great conversation is one where we (and our partners) feel the joy of creation, even if that’s while discussing a contentious topic. We have little chance of being creative if we know, or think we know, where things are headed.
Creation is critical. I need to imagine the world differently, and then try to go and create that new world.
In the tradition of the literary and philosophical movements, each Open + Curious Salon is an opportunity to gather in real-time. It is a space where the exchange of ideas flourishes, where minds come together in spirited discussion, and where conversation skills are honed and practiced. Within the walls of the salon, the spirit of intellectual curiosity reigns supreme.
What if I don’t know how to take something apart? One option is to apply excessive force and break the thing open. That works, but obviously sacrifices the thing; this is particularly useless if I wanted to take something apart because I need to fix it, or understand it. Generally, the smash method always works, but is almost never useful.
Yet thought also goes wrong somehow, and produces destruction. This arises from a certain way of thinking, i.e., fragmentation. This is to break things up into bits, as if they were independent. It’s not merely making divisions, but it is breaking things up which are not really spearate. It’s like taking a watch and smashing it into fragments, rather than taking it apart and finding its parts. The parts are parts of a whole, but the fragments are just arbitrarily broken off from each other. Things which really fit, and belong together, are treated as if they do not. That’s one of the features of thought that’s going wrong.
I’m perpetually on a journey of self-awareness. I’m quite often applying my mind to understand things. This idea from Bohm about fragmentation, and in particular fragmentation being bad because it misses out on the relationships and inherent properties of the natural parts (in the sense of disassembled-watch parts versus smashed-watch bits). This idea of fragmentation is a warning against my running with the first way I manage to understand something; just because I’ve found one way to understand (smash) something into understandable pieces, doesn’t mean that’s the best way.
First a hat tip to Austin Kleon. His most-recent post, Do you have a nemesis? included a mind map, which is the most-recent of the countless times I’ve encountered mind mapping. I’m a fan of Kleon for many reasons, not least of which is that he, like me, flouts the usual guidelines for the capitalization of one’s titles.
I’ve tried mind mapping a few times. (What’s that? Did I overdo it with software and processes? …yes, of course!) Today, I was feeling unmotivated to write for Open + Curious. I thought, “Just start. JUST START!” But I simply didn’t want to face the blank screen of the digital document.
Instead, I opened my idea garden wherein I capture interesting nuggets to be seeds for future writing. In my garden, I rarely (I first wrote “never,” but I don’t want to jinx myself) have trouble finding a nugget to write about. I grabbed my favorite pen, and flipped to a blank sheet in the little binder I keep. So much action! I felt like I was already writing. /s
On that mind map I wrote the “something new” at the center. It’s not a meaningless bit of meta; it’s the central idea from a captured nugget. At this point, staring at the paper with my pen in hand felt great, versus facing a digital document which always feels too structured for me to think in. (ref. Sönke Ahrens.) In just a few minutes of thinking and scribbling I had all those bubbles. Then I had a title. …then a route. …an outline. And from there the writing felt doable.
Over in my Open + Curious project, I’ve been working intentionally to improve my writing. For Open + Curious the more recent articles all begin with a clear posit (a statement which is made on the assumption that it will prove to be true) and then go on to explain why I believe that to be true; that’s their finished form. I was generally writing each piece, editing it to find and hone a single line of thinking, and then finishing up by crafting the leading posit. Yes, I know, “Craig discovers the essay.”
I’m reading I. Asimov and this advice leapt off the page:
What I do now is think up a problem and a resolution to that problem. I then begin the story, making it up as I go along, having all the excitement of finding out what will happen to the characters and how they will get out of their scrapes, but working steadily toward the known resolution so that I don’t get lost en route.
When asked for advice by beginners, I always stress that. Know your ending, I say, or the river of your story may finally sink into the desert sands and never reach the sea.
I’ve now written thousands of posts where I’ve led with a quotation from something. I’m forever writing some observation about what I’ve quoted, and then trying to pivot to what I actually want to say. Unfortunately, this style has begun to feel constraining.
Going forward, I’m going to see what happens if I think of what I’m quoting as giving me a direction. This piece starts with my thoughts about my writing for Open + Curious, and then looking “in the direction” of Asimov’s quoted contribution, beyond that I “see” this gibberish about my writing process. Sorry, maybe that’s all too meta? It’s noisy in my head.
