We live surrounded by words, constant messages and opinions, yet increasingly fewer conversations genuinely transform us. We talk a lot, yes, but often from haste, fear or the need to defend ourselves. And in that everyday noise, something essential is lost: the possibility of truly meeting the other.
For Ferran Ramón-Cortés, relationships are sustained, or worn down, in these conversations we tend to postpone because of discomfort or fear. Conversations that require presence, listening and emotional courage. Because understanding the other person isn’t about replying quickly, but about granting time, silence and curiosity, as the expert explains in this interview.
-In your books you teach, at heart, how to approach the conversations that are truly important. But what defines an important conversation and why do we tend to put them off so much?
The truly important conversation is the one in which we are able to go deeper and reach the interpersonal feelings between you and me.
There is a first conversation in which we talk about time, or politics, or whatever. This makes us present. That is, I recognise your presence and you recognise mine. Are we building something there? Very little.
Then there is a second conversation we must avoid, and it is toxic, when we begin to talk about others, because we end up criticising them.
We move to a third, where I describe myself: I am a father of three, I live in Barcelona… Well, we are beginning to explore.
We take a step further, when I am able to share my feelings with you: I am sad about something, or I am happy about something.
But the real conversation is when I am able to share my feelings about you. “Hey, thanks for dinner the other day, you helped me a lot”, or “I was very surprised by your comment in the meeting the other day, and I felt bad about it.” This is between you and me. This is the conversation that solidifies relationships, enables us to overcome conflicts, and which fills us with fear.
It isn’t easy to reach this level and, as we fear the other person’s reaction, many times we swallow our words. And if we swallow them, they stay inside and that relationship suffers.
-In Relationships that Work, you tackle conflict as something inevitable, yet something we all want to avoid. What cost does systematically avoiding conflict incur?
Avoiding conflict produces several effects. The first is that if I swallow the conflict and don’t talk about it with you, it will stay present in my head; it won’t go away, it remains there. And every time I recall it I modify it a little. In the end this conflict in two years will bear little resemblance to reality. Because my imagination has added all the spice.
Therefore, we are buying into a situation that will become increasingly difficult to resolve because the day you try to address it, what I tell you will sound like a foreign language. There is more fantasy than reality that I have layered on over time.
-The most direct consequence is that, without realising it, when there is something between us that remains unsaid, I avoid you. My subconscious avoids you. And if we are in a group and I see you, unconsciously I drift to another group. And if we go to breakfast, I go with the others. All of this will eventually cause us to completely part company, dissociate and lose sight of each other.
-Strange, isn’t it, that we tend to avoid conflict precisely because we fear it will lead to a break?
Exactly. The fear that resolving the conflict will end in a rupture creates a distance that will be permanent. So it’s better to take a risk. Because if we discuss it properly, anything can be talked through. It’s better to risk that a conversation becomes complex, because there is indeed a chance of restoring the relationship. Silence guarantees distance, always.
-There’s another unwanted effect of not knowing how to communicate boundaries, express needs or disagreements, and it’s the toll this takes on our self-esteem and emotional balance.
One hundred per cent. When I can’t set boundaries, I’m treating everyone around me marvellously well—except myself. So saying “no” to you becomes a yes to me.
We forget this sometimes. When we don’t set boundaries, when we don’t know how to say no, those who lose out most are our closest relationships. I come home tired, I don’t feel like talking to my wife, everything feels wrong. And yet, paradoxically, we are being incredibly generous to people who have no real stake in our lives.
It’s a perverse state of affairs. We end up handing our life to people who don’t carry real weight in it, and we lose connection, civility and affection with the people who matter most. This is the steep price of not setting boundaries.
-In The Chemistry of Relationships you discuss the balance between what we give and what we ask for. Why is it so hard to express our needs without feeling selfish?
Well, because we have lived within this culture. It seems that asking for something makes you selfish, as if you’re taking from the home. And yet giving is what we’re supposed to do. In the process, we lose self-respect.
There is also something very important: sometimes we’re not aware that asking for what we need, while legitimate, helps us avert many conflicts. Because if I’m not able to ask you, I feel you’re not giving me what I need. But you might have no idea! And perhaps if I tell you, I might be doing you a favour by clarifying what I need from you, and you can do it properly. If you don’t want to or can’t, asking implicitly gives you the freedom to respond as you wish.
But this is another issue: sometimes we don’t ask because we expect the other person to meet our needs. And when they don’t, I get angry and stop asking.
That cannot be. Asking is giving the other person the freedom to respond or not respond. And if we ask from freedom, we’ll be able to ask. So it ceases to be an act of selfishness because it is a request made in freedom.
-Another key topic when we talk about communication is knowing how to listen. Why do we listen so little, even to the people we love?
There are many factors, but for me the most important is that we already think we know what the other person is going through from the very first sentence. We live in a fast-paced world, we optimise time and you tell me, “I’ve got a problem with my mother.” That’s it. I already imagine the problem, I already know what’s there. And I don’t have the patience to understand that what you tell me at first might not be the problem.
We all need a warm-up. And if I let you speak, you might actually reach the core of the problem.
For that, four minutes. You have to speak for four minutes. If I let you speak for those four minutes we’ll reach some very interesting places. If in minute one I already respond to you, I give you advice, and that’s it. That conversation has very little depth.
-Perhaps what scares us is listening to the other…
Precisely. There is a factor that blocks listening and that is the fear of hearing what you are going to tell me. That makes me unconsciously take the floor and tell you about mine. But it’s because I know you’ll say something that will shake me, and my subconscious fires up words to block you. Few people are aware of this mechanism. But have a conversation with that person and you’ll realise it.
-And how could we train more mindful listening?
It’s funny because a few years ago we used to say: “when you listen, don’t judge.” We don’t say that any more because we know it’s impossible. The human mind works this way, so what we now say is: “notice that you’re judging.”
For me, the attitude that guarantees listening is curiosity. I stand before you and there are two options. You tell me, “last night I went out with some friends,” and I might think to myself: “well, you go out on a Wednesday too,” or the curiosity triggers, “go on, what happened? Tell me more.”
Curiosity makes me want to hear you tell me more. Judgment makes me either tell you what I think or block you. Therefore, the antidote to a lack of listening is curiosity. And the funny thing is that behind curiosity you discover wonders. Suddenly you reach a layer you hadn’t reached before, which I find wonderful. And this comes from the curiosity that an extra few minutes of listening has given me.
-There are other factors that make conversation harder in the modern world, such as a lack of attention. Which current habits are eroding our ability to sustain a deep dialogue?
Yes, there’s a terrible dispersion and an over-saturation of impressions that prevents us from consolidating any of them. And this is a problem. New generations need to realise that this reel-after-reel life doesn’t consolidate anything. The brain needs a process of consolidation.
So all I have are flashes that dazzle me, but in the end, what remains? Nothing.
I believe this is a deep wound from the networks. We are overstimulated, and this overload places us at a complicated level. We learn about everything, know about everything, from all around the world, but on a completely superficial layer that doesn’t allow us to delve even a metre below the surface. And this is a problem.
