| My favorite column in Sunday’s New York Times is “Social Q’s” penned by Philip Galanes.
Philip answers social etiquette questions in the style of “Dear Abby.” And his comments are always refreshingly candid.
Recently someone wrote to Philip about a friend whose is engaged to a much younger man: “The relationship is inappropriate and poses risks to her. At best she makes it out with a bruised heart. At worst she marries the man and finds herself financially and emotionally ruined. What do I owe my friend?”
Highlights of Philip’s particularly mercurial response include:
- I know you’re trying to look out for your friend.
- But your question is loaded with ungenerous assumptions (and unfounded catastrophes)
- Is this adult woman really such a fool that she needs you to navigate her love life?
- If so, it’s a pity she hasn’t asked for your help. Until she does, I’d keep quiet.
- Why not celebrate her joy for however long it lasts? Life is short.
Philip’s pointed response gave me pause…
Admittedly I’ve catastrophized and judged friends’ joy before. And I’ve experienced other people’s catastrophizing.
So why do we feel the need to protect people from their own journey by offering unsolicited advice?
Psychologists have determined that advice-giving can stem from:
- genuine concern
- desire to help
- failure in empathy
- neglect for diverse perspectives
- assertion of dominance
- arrogance
- distrust
Ultimately, unsolicited advice feels like criticism, which threatens our autonomy. We hate being controlled and would prefer to make our own mistakes.
(Note: Unsolicited advice is different than useful, potentially life-saving or job-saving information. When we provide that information without advice, we protect someone’s freedom to choose what to do with the information. Ex: “There’s a tiger in the building.” vs. “You should leave the office because there’s a tiger roaming the halls.”)
So I’m committed to being vigilantly joyful instead of heedlessly judge-y. Unless someone specifically requests my advice, perspectives, ideas, mentoring, or help, I’m going to celebrate people’s joy and cheer them through their journey of learning. |
