Vulnerable honesty | Yoram Mosenzon | TEDxAmsterdamED

This talk was given at a local TEDx event, produced independently of the TED Conferences.

In this funny, personal, and honest look at the way we as humans approach communication, Yoram Mosenzon teaches us the difference between true honesty, and what weoften think is honesty and try to hide. Important lessons we all stand to benefit from! By welcoming this type of communication we can create dialogue where we never thought it was possible, and resolve conflicts between arguing parties on a personal, organisational or international level.

You know, when I meet dogs,
I feel very comfortable.

But when I meet people,

my whole body's sweaty and shaken.

Especially 400 people that I don't know.

(Laughter)

And I also like this nervousness

because it shows me why I'm here.

You know, I really care about
what you think about me.

Very often people tell me:

"You know, Yoram, you shouldn't care
about what people think about you."

But, that's not my case.

That's what I care the most,
which is my connection with people.

I love people. If I want to
or I don't, I love people.

There is one more thing
that I love, which is honesty.

You know, like moment by moment,
to reveal what is going on in me.

And I can tell you,
I was not trained in that.

I was trained to hide
many parts of myself.

For example, 15 years ago,
I was at a party with friends.

And, you know, I was bored as usual.

Because whenever people ask me,
"Hey, Yoram, how are you?"

I would say, "I'm good, I'm fine."

Which is far from reality.

'Good' in my definition is...

Gloomy, overworked, overwhelmed,

and 'Definitely not trusting that you
would appreciate it if I would say it'.

(Laughter)

And by the way, my definition of fine:

Fucking

Incapable

of Naming Emotions.

(Laughter)

See, I was not very trained to...

I didn't even know how I feel.

So I was in the party,
and suddenly I had a brilliant idea.

I said to my friends:

"Hey, let's play a game.
Let's play honesty game.

"Let's say to each other

everything that is going on
in our head about one another."

(Laughter)

And I was so excited, like,
finally, honesty.

And I didn't understand why my friends
were quite reluctant to play this game.

(Laughter)

But I was enthusiastic enough
in order to convince them to do it

and then I said, "OK, so I will start."

And then I looked at one
of my friends, a girl, and I told her:

"You know, my friend,
I... I think you're ugly."

(Laughter)

That was the end of the dinner.

(Laughter)

See, this woman didn't want
to speak with me anymore.

This is not the sort of honesty I would
like to speak with you about today.

Few months later, still 15 years ago.

I met Nonviolent Communication,
and through the years,

I became a Nonviolent Communication
trainer and mediator.

Nonviolent Communication is not something
against bullying or something like that.

Nonviolent Communication was
developed by Marshall Rosenberg.

It's a technique on how to help people
to communicate in a way

that is creating more
cooperation and compassion.

In Nonviolent Communication
we define two sorts of honesty.

One we called, "Jackal honesty,"

and the other is, "Giraffe honesty,"
or nonviolent communication.

And the Jackal honesty is
basically to believe

a belief that, me as a human being,
I'm capable of knowing absolutely

what is good, what is bad,
what is right, what is wrong.

And if there is one thing that I learned
in the 40 years I'm on the planet

is that I don't know.

I don't even know for myself
what is good for myself for the long term.

And at the same time, whenever people
behave in the ways that I don't like,

at the speed of light
I'm thinking in these terms;

I'm thinking in the terms of,
"What's wrong with them?"

So for example,

if a friend of mine is speaking
more words than what I enjoy.

Did it ever happen to you that people
speak more words than what you enjoy?

(Laughter)

So how do you judge them?

In your head, of course,
you would not tell it to them

because we all learned to become
nice, dead polite people.

But in your head,
there is a Jackal party going on.

For example, you know, like:

"Oh, my god, he speaks so much,
he's boring, he's abusive,

and he really thinks
he's the center of the world, huh."

(Laughter)

And it's the same thing if my friend is
speaking less words than what I enjoy.

Then, my Jackal thinking is very helpful
in order to describe what's going on.

Then I just give him
a different name, "autist."

(Laughter)

"He has a communication problem,
he's emotionally blocked

and he needs to see a psychologist
in order to learn how to open up."

(Laughter)

So whenever people behave in ways
that are not meeting my needs,

at the speed of light I'm thinking in
terms of what's wrong with them.

And I would say that I would consider
this language as a complete lie.

Or in other words,
a tragic description of reality.

Like it's not describing
what is really going on.

So for example, let's say,

let's imagine that there is a book here.

And both you and me read this book.

And you say, "Wow, this book
is really interesting."

And I say, "No, this book
is really boring."

What happened?

Listen to the language we speak.

You say, "The book is interesting,"
and I say, "No, the book is boring."

What happened to the book?

The book kind of entered
into an existential question.

(Laughter)

"What am I? Am I boring?
Am I interesting?"

And I would say the book is not boring,
and the book is not interesting,

The book is just a book.

And at the same time,
when I say the book is boring,

I'm trying to describe
a certain experience I'm having.

If I would describe it in Giraffe,

it might sound like that
in the dialogue with you.

For example, When you tell me now
that you think the book is interesting,

I'm surprised because
I didn't find it and I'm curious:

"Can you show me what it is
that you find interesting in it?"

Now again I have a blackout.

And I'm very grateful for
the phenomenon that's called paper.

It's relatively easy
when it is about books.

It becomes more complicated
when it's about people.

You know, if I would tell you for example,
"You are boring, you are stupid."

Or as I said to my friend, "You are ugly."

So what is it that I meant when I said
to my friend, "You are ugly"?

What was the experience
I was trying to describe?

It actually took me quite some time
to realize what I meant with that.

And it was actually something
about her mouth.

(Laughter)

And more specifically, about how she was
moving her mouth while she was laughing.

You know these people

that laugh all the time
and they don't know why they laugh?

I felt very uncomfortable with her because
I didn't trust that her laugh was honest.

So if I would describe it now, I might say
something like, "You know, my friend,

when you're laughing now,
I'm feeling a bit unsure

because I really would like to understand;

can you tell me, what is it
that makes you laugh?"

Very often when I start to introduce
the Jackal and the Giraffe, people start

to think: "OK, so the Jackal is bad,
and the Giraffe is good."

Maybe you would recognize this phenomenon,

that, I don't know,
you spend time with your mother,

and she's doing her thing, you know,
you start to be annoyed.

(Laughter)

And then you start to think: "Oh, my god,
like, my mom, she's so annoying."

"She's such a control freak,
she's bossing everybody around."

And then, comes this one, you know
this one, little Jackal? He's saying:

"Yoram, you're so judgmental,
you shouldn't judge your mother."

I call this one, "New aged Jackal."

(Laughter)

Yeah like, judging the judgment,
thinking the judging is bad.

If I think the judging is bad,

I'm falling even deeper into
the paradigm of the Jackal.

And then comes
the poet Rumi who said:

"Beyond right and wrong,
there is a field, I'll meet you there."

When I heard it first time, I was pissed.

What do you mean, "I'll meet you there"?

Like, "Hey, show me the way
how to get there!"

And the way how to get there came to me
when I heard Marshall Rosenberg say,

"Every judgment is a tragic
expression of an unmet need."

So each time you judge, or each time
somebody's judging you.

It's a tragic expression of a vulnerable
experience that they're having.

For example, I really like
to judge my girlfriend.

(Laughter)

For example... selfish.

For example, I had a fight at work
and then I came back home,

I want her to listen to me,
and then she tells me,

"No, Yoram, I'm on the computer now,
I don't have time today."

Selfish.

(Laughter)

And I can tell you,
whenever I call her selfish,

that's not making her more available
to want to listen to me.

So what is it that I mean
when I say you're selfish?

I would give you two versions
of the same message.

And, just imagine all of you
that you are my girlfriend.

(Laughter)

And, just listen to me with your heart,

notice which version keeps
your heart more open to me.

That doesn't mean necessarily
you're going to do what I ask you to do,

but just that your heart
stays more open to me.

Version number 1.

"My girlfriend, you're so selfish,
you just think about yourself,

it's amazing, you just do
whatever is important to you."

And the punchline:

"By the way,
you're just like your mother."

(Laughter)

And version number 2,
the same message exactly.

"My dear girlfriend, today I had a fight
at work, and I'm feeling very sad about it

I really need some help, I wonder,
are you available to listen to me today

for let's say, 15 minutes?

And by the way, say yes
only if you really enjoy to do that.

Otherwise, I have other people
who can listen to me."

Maybe some of you start to wonder
what that has to do with TEDx Education.

In my understanding, schools are there
in order to prepare people for life.

In my belief, communication is
the most important basic life skill

that will serve you in
whatever you will do.

For example, if you get a job,
you mainly work with people.

Or if you want to make a family,
you even create little people.

And then you need to learn
how to deal with these little people.

(Laughter)

And even if you are alone,

communication is how you speak with
yourself all day long in your head.

I remember when I was at school,
I had a geography teacher

and he was a very well
Jackal educated human being.

(Laughter)

He gave me a task.

He told me, "Yoram, write an essay
about Bucharest, the capital of Romania."

Now, I was ten years old.

In those early days of my life,

I was not particularly
interested in Bucharest.

(Laughter)

So instead, I was practicing music beats.

You see, my brother was teaching me that,
and I was very vigorously practicing it.

And then the teacher came to me,
and he told me, "Yoram, you are lazy.

You should start to learn
how to take yourself more seriously."

Now that was
a very confusing message to me

because I took myself very seriously.

(Laughter)

And actually I was learning a life skill
that served me later very much

when I became a professional dancer
and a choreographer;

having a sense of rhythm
in my body was serving me,

definitely more than knowing
anything about Bucharest.

(Laughter)

And actually, I feel sad for the guy.

If you call yourself a teacher,

and you think that your job
is to be a policeman,

I would consider this job as hell.

And I believe he would have more fun
if he would speak to me in this language.

For example,
if he would say something like:

"Yoram, seeing how passionate you are
about practicing this music beats,

I'm feeling excited because I really
would like to support you in it.

Hey, how about going on Google and
searching for some cool Romanian beats.

(Laughter)

In the coming July,
together with a group of people,

we are about to open
the first Giraffe school in Amsterdam,

for children aged zero to twenty-one.

Thank you very much.

(Applause)