My Professor friend has recently developed an interest in conversations that are not really conversations.
“These are exchanges,” he explained, “in which everybody knows what will be said, nobody listens carefully, and yet all participants leave feeling that the necessary communication has taken place.”
He calls them “Conversation templates”
According to him, human beings invented language to express thought. We then became busy, discovered ready-made sentences, and began using language to avoid thought.
He has identified seven such conversations from everyday life.
The function begins twenty-five minutes late because the distinguished guest has arrived thirty minutes late.
The master of ceremonies steps forward.
“Sir, we are extremely grateful to you for taking time out of your very busy schedule to be with us.”
The distinguished guest nods gravely. His schedule may indeed be busy. It may also contain longish lunch, three phone calls that were not needed, a haircut for this function as an afterthought. Nobody knows.
My Professor whispered, “Have you ever heard anyone being thanked for coming from a relaxed and largely empty schedule?”
No chief guest has ever been introduced as:
“Sir, we understand that you had absolutely nothing to do this afternoon. We are therefore delighted that you decided to spend two hours with us.”
The guest is then described as needing no introduction, after which he is introduced for eleven minutes.
The distinguished guest delivers a speech.
He speaks about leadership, innovation, sustainability, youth, values, and the importance of thinking differently. He also mentions that change is the only constant, although this particular sentence has remained unchanged for several decades.
The chairperson returns to the microphone.
“Thank you, Sir, for that truly inspiring and thought-provoking address.”
Whether anybody was inspired is not investigated. Whether thought was provoked is equally uncertain.
The audience was checking messages during the speech. One person was studying the lunch menu. Another was trying to remember where he had parked.
But the speech must be declared inspiring. There are no other officially approved categories.
Nobody says:
“Thank you, Sir. Your talk confirmed several things we already knew and introduced two examples that we may forget before tea.”
That would be accurate, but accuracy can cause discomfort at public functions.
You meet someone in a lift.
“How are you?”
“Fine. How are you?”
“Fine.”
The entire exchange is completed in seven seconds. Fortunately, both people are fine because the lift journey is too short to accommodate illness, loneliness, professional anxiety, or trouble with an ageing parent.
My Professor says that “How are you?” is not always a question. It is often a sound made by one human being upon unexpectedly encountering another.
The correct answer is “Fine.”
An incorrect answer would be:
“I am glad you asked. My back has been troubling me, my son has changed jobs again, and I am beginning to question the direction of my life.”
By the time you reach “direction of my life,” the other person has already reached his floor.
Corporate meetings have developed their own system of verbal packing material.
Someone says, “Let us take a step back.”
Another person says, “We need to look at the big picture.”
A third says, “Let us not reinvent the wheel.”
Fourth one with spectacles says “We should only meet when rubber hits the road”
Eventually, somebody suggests that the matter be taken offline, although everybody is sitting in the same room.
When no decision has been made, the chairperson announces:
“I think we have had a very useful discussion.”
This is the meeting equivalent of declaring a patient stable because no doctor has yet arrived.
The unresolved issue will be “carried forward.” People will “circle back.” A “deep dive” may be proposed by someone who has so far remained comfortably on the surface.
My Professor once asked during a meeting, “What exactly are we carrying forward, and who is carrying it?”
He was not invited to the next meeting.
Birthdays attract an annual shipment of standard phrases.
“Many happy returns of the day.”
“Have a blast.”
“Stay blessed.”
“Keep smiling.”
“Age is just a number.”
The last sentence is mostly said to people who have reached an age at which numbers have begun to matter considerably.
In the world of whats app, these words are accompanied by a picture of flower or a cake or a glass of beer.
Social media has made the birthday conversation even more efficient. A platform reminds us that someone was born. We type “HBD,” thereby compressing human affection into three letters.
The recipient replies, “Thanks dear,” sometimes without being entirely sure who the dear person is.
When someone is unwell, we say:
“Take care.”
“Get well soon.”
“Be strong.”
“Everything will be fine.”
These phrases are kindly meant. The difficulty is that nobody knows whether everything will be fine, and the patient may already be taking as much care as medically possible.
“Be strong” is particularly demanding. A person undergoing surgery must now also display character.
My Professor is more practical.
He says, “I am sorry you are going through this. Is there something specific I can do?”
This creates a small problem. The person may actually ask for something.
Ready-made sympathy is easier because it is emotionally generous and operationally non-binding.
“Take care” allows us to express concern while leaving the details of care entirely to the patient.
A colleague announces that she is leaving.
The office immediately begins saying things it had postponed for six years.
“It has been wonderful working with you.”
“You brought so much energy to the team.”
“We must stay in touch.”
“Let us definitely meet soon.”
A group photograph is taken. A cake appears. Somebody begins a speech with, “I am not very good at farewells,” and then demonstrates this for fifteen minutes.
The departing colleague says:
“This organisation has been like a family to me.”
My Professor points out that the sentence is ambiguous. Families contain affection, loyalty, rivalry, unpaid labour, unexplained tension, and at least one person who talks too much. The comparison may be more accurate than intended.
Everyone promises to remain connected.
For three weeks, they exchange messages.
After six months, they like each other’s LinkedIn updates.
After two years, they meet at a conference and say:
“We must catch up properly.”
This begins the cycle again.
The Usefulness of Meaningless Words
I asked my Professor whether these sentences should be banned.
“Not at all,” he said. “Civilisation depends upon them.”
He explained that clichés are the small change of social life. They may not be valuable individually, but they allow daily transactions to continue without lengthy emotional negotiations.
Imagine having to invent a completely original sentence every time someone had a birthday. Many friendships would collapse by lunchtime.
The problem is not that we use familiar words. The problem begins when familiar words replace attention.
“Thank you for your inspiring talk” may be harmless. But it becomes meaningful only when followed by something specific:
“Your example about the failed project stayed with me.”
“Your argument on regulation changed my view.”
“I disagreed with your conclusion, but it made me think.”
Specificity brings language back to life.
My Professor has therefore proposed a simple test. Before speaking, ask:
“Could this sentence have been said by anybody, to anybody, after anything?”
If the answer is yes, the sentence may already be on life support.
At our next public function, I was asked to thank the speaker.
I approached the microphone.
“Thank you, Sir, for taking time out of your busy schedule and delivering such an inspiring and thought-provoking address.”
My Professor stared at me from the front row.
I continued:
“Your speech has also reminded us how difficult it is to say anything at a public function that has not already been said at the previous public function”
“Your address confirmed that change remains constant and that no conference may end until Gandhi, Steve Jobs or an anonymous African proverb has spoken. You ensured that none was left out.”
There was a brief silence.
The audience was unsure whether I had thanked the speaker or reviewed the entire conference industry.
Then a few people laughed.
The speaker smiled politely, although his smile arrived slightly before the meaning did.
The chairperson did not smile at all.
And my Professor Friend, seated in the front row, quietly opened his notebook and wrote down an eighth conversation:
What people say after someone has said what everybody always says.
LOL. Too good.
I really enjoyed the blog—it’s hilarious! Now I need to come up with some new words or phrases to express how much I liked it. 😆
I do not want to say what is always said in comments to many blogs …
A very matter of facts blog. Enjoyed reading it
I have had a good laugh. Will come back here, I guess