I heard this phrase recently, in a conversation where one person was trying to get through to another person who was being uncooperative. I think it's a great line, and I'm going to try to remember it for the future.
“I can explain it for you, but I can't understand it for you.”
The problem is, that's pretty curt. I don't think most people would be able to really hear that, and I think we have a responsibility to make sure our words are heard. If we know our words won't be heard, what's the point of speaking at all? Is it to feel better about ourselves? It shouldn't be, in my opinion. We have enough of that already.
For that reason, I might try something kinder first when talking with an ornery person. In the past, I've used the following, and people seem to take it well.
“I'm sorry that's not the answer you want, but that's my answer.”
Substitute the word “answer” for “request,” “advice,” or any other word as needed.
If cost is fixed and you measure speed, you'll get speed, but not quality. If cost is fixed and you measure quality, you'll get quality, but not speed. If you measure page views or ad impressions, your company may become a clickbait factory. If you measure messages sent within your app, your app might begin boosting outrageous content that makes people argue all the time. (Yes, I'm talking about social media.) If you're a bank and you measure account openings, your employees just might commit fraud to “get those numbers up.”
Incentives rule the world. If you decide to incentivize something by making a measurement a goal, be sure you understand the unintended consequences. Better yet, don't make a measurement a goal at all. As they say, “when a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure.” In other words, when a metric becomes a goal, people will inevitably game the system, and you might be surprised by what they do to “win.”
I don't remember where I first heard this. It may have been spoken in a conversation about road rage. I think there's something very true about it, though, and it speaks to much more than driving.
When someone is unkind to you, they're probably not reacting to you. They're probably reacting to the last person who upset them.
In other words, when one is unkind or behaves strangely toward you, especially when there is no obvious explanation for their behavior, their annoyance may be misdirected. They may be treating you the way they wish they had treated someone else, someone who came before you. It's not fair, but that's life.
The new Ghost album, Skeletá, is pretty good, even if it's not my favorite of theirs. Meliora may be at the top, and I definitely think it's their most even and refined. The lyrics on Skeletá can occasionally be cringey, not unlike Impera, but like all Ghost albums, there are some hits, and they're not all singles.
The rock ballad Guiding Lights may be my favorite song on the new album. It sounds like something that belongs on a film's soundtrack. It also contains what I consider to be genuinely useful insight. I'm a bit embarrassed to quote Ghost on philosophical matters, but as Seneca said, “I shall never be ashamed of citing a bad author if the line is good.” (Not that Tobias is a bad author. He's just not who most people think of when they think of philosophy.)
Anyway, the line is:
The road to nowhere is long.
In other words, if you find yourself stuck, you may be on the wrong path, and continuing down it may never prove that to you. In fact, the belief that the reward is “just a little ways ahead” is a pretty good indication that you'll never reach it, especially if you've found yourself believing that more than once. Although it can be painful, in circumstances like these, you would be better off turning around and trying something else. You might even find that another approach gets you to your destination much faster than anticipated.