Last month, we examined how colorful prisms of personality, or “rivers of temperament” as some say, influence interpersonal communication and collaboration. No judgment made about which predominant “color” was ideal, nor whether one’s relative susceptibility to negative emotion or appetite for risk were necessarily deal breakers.
Each person’s personality and mode of engaging life’s challenges is a unique blend of traits. If true, might not one’s effort to understand their ebb and flow lead to more effective interactions and less fraught relationships — at home, at work, in the public square?
My June column teased two temperamental archetypes revealed in a new book very much in synch with today’s rampant partisan discord over politics, American jurisprudence, and a pervasive quickness in our culture to demonize those with whom we disagree.
In this most revealing work, “How to Know a Person” (penguinrandomhouse.com/books/652822/how-to-know-a-person-by-david-brooks/), bestselling author and journalist David Brooks conveys “the art of seeing others deeply and being deeply seen.” Ever studious, not so hot at empathy, Brooks volunteers his lifelong, hard-wired disposition to engage life “in the abstract.” He acknowledges bringing a superficial curiosity to the kind of human exchanges that help individuals feel valid, respected, heard, and understood.
With apology for the dramatics, dear reader, these 275 pages strike chords in the head and heart of one who regularly opines on ethical integrity in business and the magnetic force of personal humility, particularly among leaders.
Brooks, whose topical insights I have shared with students, has pondered public policy, corporate conduct, and the “road to character” for years. Lately, approaching his 60s, he beckons readers to the art of seeing, “to peer into faces with love and acceptance.” His midlife recognition that “above all else, we long for someone to truly behold us” is contagious.
And so, his book posits two archetypalpersonalities, which you and I have encountered in our workplaces, homes, and communities:
The Diminisher: a portrait in shadows. … Armored in self-absorption, these individuals gaze upon others as mere pawns in life’s grand chessboard. Their eyes, veiled by assumptions, fail to see the intricate tapestry of humanity. To them, we are objects — tools to be used, not souls to be known.
“Their presence casts a pall over our spirits, leaving us diminished, unseen.” A litany of the diminisher’s dispiriting “tricks” are detailed in Chapter 2.
The Illuminator: a beacon of connection. … In stark contrast, these folks employ a different lens — one polished by curiosity and compassion. Their gaze penetrates masks and facades, seeking the hidden gems within. They ask questions, not to dissect but to understand. When they look upon us, we feel taller, more significant.
“Their light reveals our depths, and suddenly, we matter.” I was grateful for the dozens of scenarios offered to illustrate how to become this more fully developed human being.
Can these archetypes help us understand problematic organizational cultures and “boss behaviors” that inspire or repel loyalty? For me, they add texture to the revered “H-factor,” an embrace of humility, empathy, and transparency, particularly among those privileged to lead.
Last fall, on a book tour, Brooks recounted his conversation with a friend in depression. From a distorted image of reality, this person was wrestling with obsessive voices in her head: “You’re not worthwhile. Nobody would miss you if you were gone.”
Intuitively, Brooks responded with a suggestion on how to escape the clutches of her affliction. “You liked your service trips in Vietnam. You should do that again.”
Oh, my. By now, you may anticipate our correspondent’s subsequent reimagining. With that sort of intellectual feedback “all you do is show the depressed person you don’t get it.” For, came later insight, “it is not ideas they are missing. It is energy.”
Today, David would behave differently, offering small touches, like “just thinking of you.”
This compelling book — a fast read — invites readers to become “weavers of connection and harbingers of understanding.” Last month, readers may have found implicit clues to better relationships in the helpful typography of Ocean, True Colors, Gregorc, and other conventional tools. Here, advice is explicit: resolve Rimply to “behold” someone, not seek to fix.
This book poignantly explores the art of “presence.” Reading it took me back to a student’s eulogy of a favorite professor profiled in this space four years ago, an encouraging force who “helped us see the world through a different lens, who gave us hope, by simply loving us.”
This will take more practice for some of us than others. Patience, my friends.
Deeper description of the “personality” models referenced last time — and opportunity to assess yourself — can be found at these links:
• truecolorsintl.com/
• thepeakperformancecenter.com/educational-learning/learning/preferences/learning-styles/gregorc-mind-styles-model/
• psychologytoday.com/us/basics/big-5-personality-traits
Cartier teaches at Aims Community College, focusing on ethical challenges facing business leaders and the enduring “soft skills” that underlie success at work, home, and community. Views and opinions here are solely the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of Aims.
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