There’s a sneaky thing about the word communication. It’s that kind of word that when we use it day by day it usually means a fraction of its actual meaning. Normally, we say that someone or something communicated a message when it happens in a linear way, which most often than not is simply through words. This is especially true with mediated communication, where a medium such as a simple text display on a computer screen squeezes out all other cues from the environment where the message originated.
For example, when a message is communicated, the person from which it originates is its primary source, or in other words, the entity that created it first. So let’s say that this person, we’ll call her Amelia, says to her friend that she agrees that the pumpkin risotto they are eating is great. Then she goes on to say that she is planning with her partner their first holidays together, and that last Tuesday she received positive feedback from her job’s manager. In this physically present conversation, the friend at the other side of the table will notice that even if the sentences she is saying don’t sound negative at all, there is a tinge of sadness in her tone of voice and a nervous, impatient rhythm in her gestures that say otherwise. If this scenario shifted to one where the communication was happening through a textual medium, cues such as her tone of voice and her movements would be squeezed out of the message and only the most unambiguous part of it (at least that’s what we tend to expect of words) would be what remains. Without the words, the other cues would probably not even be considered a message in themselves.
Then, let’s imagine that after noticing these cues, the friend asks her if something is wrong and she says that no, everything is fine, she is just tired from the week. The friend asks again to make sure and, again, she says to “not worry, really” with a smile. Now the friend can still pick up some cues from her but they are too subtle to be interpreted in any way (the spectrum of possible interpretations in just too wide). As a result, she decides not too dwell on it.
By the time they are waiting for dessert, the friend took over the conversation and has been talking at length about her family visit and the last movie that she watched. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Amelia bursts out telling her to please stop talking, that she doesn’t need this right now and that she’s getting into her nerves. Her puzzled and slightly offended friend asks her what happened. Amelia answers that of course she is not doing well, and that all her family talk is not helping either, because it reminds her of how hers will react when she tells them that she will break up with her partner, who they adore.
The day after that dinner, the friend receives a message from Amelia, who apologises for her outburst, telling her that she didn’t mean to be so brusque. In fact, even if she seemed unreasonably angry, she was only slightly frustrated, but she had had trouble reacting in a more delicate way because she was a bit on edge as a result of her personal problems.
Now back to the main point. It’s safe to say that there was a communication problem here. Amelia tried to communicate a message through many simultaneous layers that didn’t just include her words. But she didn’t communicate properly enough so her friend could have a reasonable chance to understand what she actually was trying to say. In short, there was a misunderstanding. Even if this hadn’t been a physically present but mediated circumstance of communication, where, as I said before, it’s easier to be misunderstood for lack of extra cues, all these extra layers that Amelia added in an attempt to communicate what linear language cannot didn’t succeed in transmitting the message(s) clearly enough.
Verbal language is a wonderful thing, there’s no denying of that. I’m using it to attempt to communicate this at this very moment. When I say that it is linear, I mean that words only work in sequence. Language is made to make sense only one word after another (it also applies if you are a fast, selective reader used to skimming through paragraphs and skipping passages). Luckily, the level of sophistication in how we as a species have managed to codify so much into language, with mind-boggling precision, is nothing short of an ongoing miracle. So it’s not such a bad trade-off that the most powerful communicative tool that we have come up with turns out to be weakened by its linearity.
Why weakened you ask? Well, when you are really trying to be precise about something that you want to communicate, like the idea that I’m trying to get across right now, we cannot employ language in such a way that the receiver may understand the full picture in one single charge of cognitive enlightenment. No, we need to have the ability to choose the correct words which in their combined whole express something resembling the closest possible to what we want to say. And we need to organise these words in an effective manner, while trying to be as concise and evocative as possible so as to maintain our receiver motivated enough to pay close, active attention. It’s a difficult task no doubt, but in addition to linearity, I want to highlight two other concepts that I employed: codification and ambiguity, which can be seen as two sides of the same coin.
One big problem that Amelia was facing is that she didn’t have the resources to express her message with enough clarity that such a misunderstanding wouldn’t have happened. She resorted to un-codified and ambiguous resources that she layered on top of her words, hoping that it would be enough to keep the conversation flowing while keeping both parties on the same page. Aside from linearity, another one of the drawbacks of language is that eloquence is more of a rarity than a universally accessible quality. Thus, while Amelia could have chosen to describe the full range of her emotions and intentions with words, she probably didn’t have the vocabulary to be precise. Moreover, it would have taken her a long time stumbling through her explanation and giving the impression that she is monopolising the conversation and risking coming across as self-absorbed and inconsiderate to her friend. On the other end of the spectrum, if she had had an ability to express the nuance of her emotions with the right tone of voice and body language and not be impeded by the delicate state of her nerves, how can she be sure that her friend would understand?
I came up with a thought experiment to address this conundrum that develops in so many situations where we somehow become cornered by our lack of resources to express ourselves and inevitably slip into misunderstandings, faux-pas, undue indignation, or the need to wrap up an incomplete thought before it derails, as we give up the fumbling to try to convey it.
What if drivers of non-verbal, such as body posture or hand position, where codified in a way that decreases ambiguity, or at least conveys a specific mood and other things that are difficult and cumbersome to express while we are linearly trying to express something?
For example, in a weird alternative universe where we developed cultural conventions that better codified other communicational processes that happen simultaneous to talking, we had postures, hand positions, token objects, and other resources to that would complement our words. In the two friends’ situation, while she was talking about her life, Amelia would have held her hand fully extended splitting her fingers into two pairs the way Spock does. In this hypothetical culture, such a hand-position signals that even if the content of the words themselves is positive, that there is something that is not going well emotionally for Amelia. Then she would fold the silk napkin that she carries in her chest pocket in a way that signifies that she doesn’t want to speak about her contradictory emotional turmoil right now, but she will let her know later. The friend would have been educated since early childhood about these common codes that everyone shares and she would have instantly understood. Then, the waitress opening the door for them as they leave would smile and rub her chest with her fist (I took this one from the series ‘The Bear’) as she says goodbye, conveying that she appreciated them as customers. But more than a smile, this gesture adds the sense that she felt an unusual, inexplicable sense of kinship with them and is open to chat as people and not as customers and waitress whenever they like.
The repertoire of non-verbal codes of this culture could achieve very high levels of sophistication, such as expressing something as nuanced and usually awkward to say out loud as what the waitress did while opening the door. It would be especially good with what is difficult to put into words efficiently. I think that there’s something special about silent communication that cannot go unexploited. It’s not only that it can happen as a synchronous layer to verbal communication adding more dimensions to what we are saying, but it is somehow more forgiving than our voices, our ears and our vocal apparatus. There’s something humble and suggestive about it, like those helpful, additional gestures that we make for people we feel affectionate towards, in a way that doesn’t need to be acknowledged in words but just appreciated. Or like the innocent gestures of animals such as cats, when they approach us and nonchalantly walk around our legs, rubbing their bodies against them while purring, as an understated signal of trust.
And in the end, many societies do this in a way, even if the repertoire is never too broad. There are the Japanese and the angle by which they bow, Italians and their hand gestures, black attire as the colour of mourning, etc. I also nodded to the series The Bear, where kitchen workers rub their fists against their chests to signify a desire for truce, even when their nerves are about to explode and they just cannot say it in words. The unspoken needs to be better valued. I feel that in our increasingly global culture we are not finding a good, updated replacement for non-verbal codes that are being lost or becoming outdated, as they come from a rather distant past where they were judged as essential. In addition to the aforementioned elements, this includes uniforms, rituals, symbols and more that like vanishing dialects and religions are losing their layers of meaning. I don’t know where I stand regarding this matter, some call it a process of commodification, where they become eviscerated of their meanings while only retaining that which can be commercialised on a global scale. Some things aren’t better said with words, but they deserve to be understood.
This could even include the choice of languages themselves. What if there was a declination in the choice of language? Choosing one language over other would convey what kind of emotional register you’re adopting? It happens in a way with clichés such as using French as the language of love. It also happens with multicultural families where the parent would choose their native language over their adopted country’s language when scolding their child. One language could contain a great repertoire of words and grammar rules for hostility and a confrontative tone, while the other would be especially prepared for affection, full of pet-names, caring terms and declinations that serve this purpose. In this hypothetical culture, the choice of language would not be a question of national identity, where most languages seek to develop in a way that achieves the same as another language. Instead, languages would develop centred upon specific registers (almost like a specialisation of languages in the spirit of Adam Smith’s economics against mercantilism) and people would choose languages for these reasons instead of it just being a question of national identity, where in many countries it seems that English is gaining the upper hand.
Of course, part of what I’m talking about addresses well-known things such as cultural conventions, emotional intelligence, social awareness, linguistic register, sign language, emojis, and so on. Maybe what we have now is the best that we can do as human beings? I really don’t see how it wouldn’t be conceivable such an overturn in the the rules of our communication, and the amount of dimensions that we agree to add to it.
It’s possible that some things like moods are better left vague and open to interpretation, otherwise if everything was to be codified too much pressure would be placed on us should we choose the wrong signifier. The comparison between the precision that verbal language allows and the vagueness of more primitive, non-verbal communication is akin to that between a technological solution and a bodily one. We can choose to walk somewhere or go there by car. Walking is much slower, but if we make a mistake and take a wrong turn or worse get into an accident, the repercussions would probably be much less grave than if we were in a car. If we take a wrong turn, we can just turn back. If we crash into another person, in the vast majority of cases nothing too serious would happen. Now with the car it’s a whole other story. A similar comparison could be made between throwing a rock at someone and shooting them with a gun. Language works the same way: we can be highly effective in expressing something in our minds, but if we choose the wrong words, we will be held accountable for it to a greater degree than if our non-verbal cues were misunderstood. Once we say something, turning back from it becomes a big challenge.
Perhaps many non-verbal cues work as they do because we don’t really know exactly how we want to express that precise layer of our message. Maybe they are as vague as our understanding of what’s going on inside of us. So we leave some leeway to not be too hard on ourselves or others if there is a misreading. At the same time, the more we codify objects, postures, hand-positions and so on, the more we restrict our freedom for what kinds of, for example, postures we can adopt without people literally reading too much into it. However, we can go further into our imagining of this alternative culture, and suggest that they would have addressed this with a meta-code. Maybe if you wanted to make clear that you were using your postures in a codified manner and wanted them to be interpreted that way, then you would wear a specific sign that conveyed that. Communication is like that, as long as we have a message that we wish to convey, we find whatever is in our reach that has any chance to be understood by our receiver. And we fit the message within the constraints of our resources while keeping it as faithful to its essence as we can.
✵
Leave a Reply