A few years ago I was having lunch by myself in a restaurant. At the table next to me a couple of young men were talking (all right, they were grumbling) about their work. Behind me the same kind of conversation was going on. It dawned on me that these folks had tacitly agreed that this was the way they would talk to each other.
It was what I've come to call the "woe are we" conversation.
It's an interesting social convention: We often connect with each other by talking about what's wrong, what we don't want, how awful things are. This habitual pattern of conversation is as comfortable as an old pair of shoes. We could just as easily talk about what we want, and what we have going for us that will get us there. But it's not the socially accepted thing to do.
Those simple habits of thought and talk create a culture.
I'd go so far as to propose that we've created a social agreement--a silent, unexamined assumption--that we must talk about problems and limitations because they are what's real. Although this belief usually remains unspoken, it shapes our thoughts and dominates our language: In American slang, "let's get real," often means "let's talk about what's wrong." Often implied is how helpless we are to change anything.
The strength of this convention was brought home to me recently when a gentleman reputed to be the most powerful in Bermuda hosted a working lunch for people involved in social sector causes in that island nation. The gathering was carefully designed to draw attention to tailwinds and assets, especially those that support people in contributing to society and making a difference with their lives.
As the meeting drew to a close, I stood in front of the group for a question and answer session. The first question came from one of the former premiers of the country.
"How long have you been here, Jim? Have you read the local paper?"
A couple more questions revealed what was behind his polite query. He wanted me to acknowledge the downside of paradise. He wanted to make sure we didn't sweep the issues under the carpet.
I certainly was aware of this account of life on the island. But as far as I'm concerned, asking "What about the problems?" is beside the point. It's simply a routine, a habit (you might call it the default setting we return to time and again), even for people like this gentleman who are known for their "can-do" attitude.
(A woman sitting next to the former premier reminded him of how often he takes a different stance. "I know you," she said. "And for heaven's sake, you count the number of times in a day that you say 'yes.'")
We can follow the norm and investigate thoroughly the phenomena that we call problems, if we want to do that. We can also spend time on debates about whether it's "fair" or "truthful" to focus on assets instead of taking a so-called impartial view of the world.
I prefer to take a more practical approach and leave such philosophizing to others. The way I see it, we have a strategic decision to make: Based on everything we know about human beings, what is the best fuel for the bold, sustained action that will realize potentials?
Do we get farther if we focus on problems or if we pay attention to assets? As you'll see, there are good reasons to bet on the latter.