Paul Tingen discusses Marshall Rosenberg's on Violent Communication technique
Imagine for a moment that you're on a peace mission in Palestine with a few sangha members, and are holding a talk. Imagine that one of the Palestinians in the audience suddenly jumps up, and starts to yell at you, at the top of his voice: 'Murderer!' 'Assassin!' Before you know it, most of your 100-head strong audience has joined in, and the situation becomes threatening.
How would you feel? What would you do? Breathing and smiling aren't going to defuse this situation. Some people may get by on the strength of their presence, personality or charisma, but most of us would be deeply grateful for a workable strategy that offers a way to defuse the situation, and more importantly, to connect with the hearts of the people in the audience. After all, that's why you're there. The news that I'd like to bring you in this article is that such a strategy exists, can easily be learnt, and has been proven to work. When it was applied in the above situation, it was so effective that the person holding the talk was invited for Ramadan supper by the very Palestinian who first shouted "murderer!"
It happened to peace mediator Marshall Rosenberg a few years ago. The strategy that he applied is called 'Non-violent Communication,' or 'Compassionate Communication.' It's also known as 'a language of the heart', or 'giraffe,' because the animal has the largest heart of any land-animal. Giraffes also have long necks with which they can more easily see the future consequences of their actions, and pea-sized brains that make it impossible for 'giraffes' to take in all the heady analyses, criticisms, blame, shame and right/wrong judgements of their unfortunate counterpart, the 'jackal.' The 'jackal' is an animal with a rather dubious reputation, but when we look more closely, it's a lot less dangerous than we may think, and can even appear rather cuddly. In 'Non-violent Communication' (NVC) it's chosen as the symbol of the critical, blaming and shaming habit energies that we've all been taught.
Non-violent Communication was developed by Dr. Rosenberg, an American psychologist who once studied with Carl Rodgers. He was curious why certain people manage to stay centred and loving in the face of even the most challenging circumstances, and in a society that routinely uses coercive and controlling thinking and language, ie blame, criticism, shame and punishment, as a way of expressing its needs. Examples of this 'jackal' form of expression are adjectives like: unfair, uncaring, inattentive, dumb, controlling, dishonest, defensive, lazy, dumb, disrespectful, incompetent, or labels like 'bureaucrat,' 'asshole,' 'miser,' 'egotist,' 'nigger,' 'poof,' and so on. According to Rosenberg, 'jackal' is a "life-alienating form of thinking and communication," and the root of the immense suffering and violence that plague our planet. Many great spiritual teachers, including Thay, proclaim something similar, namely that the roots for the suffering in our society are found in the thinking of individuals. 'If you have a gun, you can kill a dozen people, if you have an ideology and try to enforce it, you can kill millions.' This is, because that is.
Meditation is one way of quieting the noisy judgements of our rational mind.' Thay has called meditation our "appointment with ourselves." It is an opportunity to listen to ourselves, to listen to our heart, to practice presence and deep understanding. Add his emphasis on relationships, families, communities, compassion, and reconciliation, and one could call his path 'a practice of the heart.' My contention is that this 'practice of the heart' and NVC's 'language of the heart' are delightfully complementary and mutually reinforcing. Like mindfulness practice, Rosenberg's 'giraffe' language is simple and very powerful. He has looked deeply into the nature of the way we habitually think and communicate, and offers the most radical and hopeful alternative that I have come across. And like Thay's teachings, his alternative strongly emphasizes non-duality, not taking sides, and reconciliation.
In fact, the quintessences of NVC and Thay's practice are so similar as to be almost identical. Rosenberg loves to quote a poem by Rumi that describes it perfectly for him:
"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase 'each other' doesn't make any sense."
For me this poem expresses exactly the same sentiment as Thay's "Please Call Me By My True Names," which is non-judgement, interbeing, and compassion.
NVC takes a big leap into this new paradigm by doing away with all coercive and controlling thinking and language, expressed in words like 'right,' 'wrong,' 'too' this or that, 'should,' 'ought,' and so on. When I encountered NVC I realized that all I'd done during my years of spiritual training was to extend the limits of the 'wrong' behavior that I was willing to look deeply at with compassion and understanding. But I still felt that there were such things as 'right' and 'wrong' behavior, and I still labeled people and their behavior in ways that dehumanized them, using words like incompetent, slow, boring, cruel, inconsiderate, self-centred, selfish, thrifty, and so on.
However, and this is a concept that's initially hard to grasp, NVC recommends eradicating every sense of rightdoing and wrongdoing; to go all the way and not even judge murder or the destruction of our environment as 'wrong.' We can immediately sense the enormous ramifications. For most people, myself included when I first heard about it, this feels like a terrifying leap into the unknown. How can we protect our freedom and our safety and peace and the beauty and richness of our planet if we cannot say that cutting down all the rainforests, murdering people, or selling weapons, is wrong? NVC does not condone any of these actions. Instead it offers a powerful language with which we can express our likes and dislikes, our values and our needs, in a non-coercive, non-blaming, Non-violent way, that is likely to be much more effective.
NVC does this by employing three masterstrokes: First, it relates our feelings to our 'needs,' and not to the events that happen around us. Second, it defines human 'needs' as universal, 'divine' qualities that all human beings share. And third, it distinguishes our needs from "specific, do-able, here and now requests." From these premises a common language of the heart springs that all human beings share and understand. Another way of putting it is that 'giraffe' is a way of connecting with, and communicating with, our own and the other person's Buddha nature.
In order to explain how it works, I need to get a little bit technical and outlay the fundaments of the 'giraffe' language. It may seem a little bit complicated at first, and like any new language needs repeated practice to apply it fluently. But once we 'get it,' it will feel much more natural than our habitual 'jackal' language of blame, shame and punishment. Gandhi once observed: 'don't confuse what's habitual with what's natural.'
"Classic giraffe" employs the following four basic steps:
1) Observation. Identify what we see in purely descriptive language. This means no evaluations or interpretations. Krishnamurti called this the most difficult thing a human being can do. Thay also often emphasizes the importance of double-checking our perceptions.
2) Feelings. Get in touch with how we feel in the present moment, and name pure feelings. 'I feel rejected,' or 'I feel misunderstood' are feelings mixed with evaluations, and unhelpful. Instead communicate heart feelings such as: sad, hurt, frustrated, happy, sceptical, resistant, touched, serene, mindful, intrigued, relaxed, open, scared, optimistic, etc. etc. Naming our feelings without evaluation is an aspect of the 'stopping' aspect of our mindfulness practice, and this is one of many of our practices that are complementary with NVC.
3) Needs. Identify the here and now need that is causing our feeling. For example, "I feel scared because I don't get any safety," or "I feel joyful because of the appreciation I'm getting," or "I feel frustrated because I'm not getting respect."
4) Request. Ask for a specific action that is do-able right here and right now. This offers a practical opportunity for creating heart-connection and making each other's life more wonderful.
To summarize, the four "classic giraffe" steps are: Observations, Feelings, Needs, and Requests. In a real-life situation, this may sound something like: "When I hear you screaming, I feel scared, because I'm not getting the safety I want. Please would you lower your voice?" Note that the speaker does not use any judgmental language, such as that the person screaming is "wrong," or "too loud." The speaker simply expresses his or her own feelings and needs, and follows it with a specific, do-able request. Another "classic giraffe" phrase may sound like: "When you smile at me, I feel warm and touched, because it meets my need for being seen and appreciated. Could you tell me how you feel when you hear me say that?"
Note that 'giraffe' grammar always puts "I" with "I", and "you with "you." I always feel something because I want something, and you always feel things because you want something. A 'giraffe' never believes that her feelings are caused by someone else's actions, nor does he believe that he can cause someone else's feelings. A 'giraffe' always has two choices of expression: honesty, ie expressing her own feelings and needs; or empathy, ie hearing the other person's feelings and needs, regardless of how they are expressed. This is the whole NVC paradigm in a nutshell. By contrast, the jackal always puts "I" in relation to "you," ie "I'm feeling scared because you're shouting," or "I'm feeling warm because you're smiling at me."
When Marshall Rosenberg was addressing the above mentioned group of Palestinians in a Palestinian refugee camp and was called "Murderer!", "Assassin!" and so on, he practiced empathy in response. He realized that the speaker's exhortations might have had something to do with his American nationality, and the fact that tear gas canisters had been shot into the camp the night before, with the words "Made in the USA" printed on them. So Rosenberg guessed the speaker's feelings and needs: "Are you angry because you would like my government to use its resources differently?" The man shouted more angry words in response. Rosenberg noted: "Our dialogue continued, with him expressing his pain for nearly twenty more minutes, and I listening for the feeling and need behind each statement. I didn't disagree or agree. I received the man's words not as attacks, but as gifts from a fellow human, willing to share his soul and deep vulnerabilities with me. Once the gentleman felt understood, he was able to hear me as I explained my purpose for being at the camp. An hour later, he invited me to his home for Ramadan dinner." *
Rosenberg was able to connect with the Palestinian because he was able to hear his needs, and because he did not immediately try to 'fix' things by suggesting practical solutions, i.e. he didn't go to specific request level at this stage. The importance of the separation of needs and requests in 'giraffe' is that it opens up the common ground of our universal needs. Examples of what NVC calls 'needs' (and some call 'wants' or 'values') are: air, food, shelter, sleep, empathy, love, compassion, understanding, connection, community, touch, closeness, acceptance, peace, mindfulness, support, adventure, safety, appreciation, contribution, growth, justice, equality, fairness, reassurance, independence, authenticity, aliveness, respect, trust, sharing, giving, serving, learning, and so on, and on. Is there anyone reading this who does not share these needs? I don't think so. Sadly, 'needs' have a bad press in our society, which is the reason why we tend to express them tragically in ways that are least likely to get them met, in judgements and blame. But our needs are universal, inalienable and divine. Our needs express our Buddha-nature.
The confusion of needs and requests has also led many Buddhist practitioners to misapply the concept of non-attachment to needs, and this has led many practitioners to try to deny their needs, usually with disastrous results. But non-attachment is an important and helpful practice when we use it to become free from certain specific here and now actions/requests by which we may try to fulfil our needs. For example, we all, in varying degrees, want comfort, safety, stability and predictability. These are universal needs. In our society many think that the best way to fulfil them is through having lots of money. But when we look more deeply, we may see that there are other ways to fulfil these needs, and that our attachment to money may be alienating us from other needs that we have, like connection or contribution. We may discover that rather than through money, we can get these needs met better through practice, by choosing a different life-style, by living in community, and that these actions will also make it more possible for us to improve our connection with our family, and to contribute more to the well-being of the planet. Conversely, we may have a need to contribute to stamping out the hunger on our planet, in which case having lots of money will be a request-level way to fulfil this need.
Arguments or wars between people do not happen because there is disagreement about needs, but rather because of the way people go about getting their needs met. In other words, arguments and wars happen on the specific request level. If this can be translated into universal needs, we can begin to recognize the humanity of the other person. Rosenberg has many examples of how, once conflicting parties have started to connect on the level of feelings and needs, they then managed to find creative practical solutions to even the most seemingly impossible situations. "A world where needs and requests are confused is a world of scarcity. A world where they are distinguished is a world of abundance."
It is deeply sad that we are taught in our society to communicate our needs through the pointing finger, rather than the outstretched hand. But it is very important to emphasize that NVC does not call this 'jackal' behaviour "wrong," because that would simply express the same 'right-wrong' paradigm. Instead, NVC suggests that blame and judgement are tragic ways of expressing our unmet needs, because we are least likely to get them met this way. Anybody who expresses 'jackal' is in pain and in need, and this makes compassion and connection with the poor 'jackal,' whether our own or someone else's, not only possible, but necessary. Everything we ever say is either "thank you" or "please." 'Jackal' is simply an unskilful way of expressing this. Ultimately, there are no jackals, just "giraffes with a language problem,' and when we can remember this, a whole different world opens up.
There are many techniques that can be learnt to further 'giraffe' communication, and there are many more areas of compatibility between NVC and Thay's teachings, but there is not enough space here to explain them all, so I'll just mention two. The emphasis in NVC is always very much on present moment feelings and needs. Rosenberg says: "Spend more than five words on the past and the chances that you'll get your present moment needs met diminish with every word." What is alive in you or me right this very moment, is always the crucial question for a 'giraffe,' and this naturally fits in very well with the focus on the present moment in our practice.
Finally, the topic of anger shows up another impressive area of compatibility between NVC and Thay's practice. Rosenberg argues that there are four feelings that do not arise from our needs not being met, but rather from what we tell ourselves about our needs not being met. These 'secondary' emotions are anger, guilt, shame and depression. In their case the 'giraffe' grammar would be: "I feel angry/guilty/ashamed/depressed, because of what I think about..."
NVC recommends that we stop when we notice anger arising in us, and wait until we are sure that we can respond from a point of our choosing, and not with a knee-jerk 'jackal' reaction. It recommends that we use this stopping to watch "the jackal-show" in our head (ie our angry tapes of judgement and blame), and to identify the feelings and needs that underlie our anger. When we are ready, we communicate our feelings and needs. Again, the parallels with Thay's practice are remarkable. Thay gives many examples of how our anger melts like snow in the sun the moment we have true understanding of a situation or a person. This makes the same point: we're not angry because of a particular situation, we're angry because of what we tell ourselves about that situation. When we are able to look more deeply, and can connect with the human suffering that underlies another person's actions, our anger often vanishes. However, sometimes it doesn't, and this usually is a sign that we need to express our feelings and needs.
This is where the practices recommended by Thay and NVC in how to deal with anger are beautifully complementary. Stopping is the core of what we practice, and conscious breathing is our wonderful vehicle. We can use this practice to "watch the jackal show," look deeply, and identify our feelings and needs. This is the same as meditating on the seeds of our anger. Once we have transformed our anger enough we can use 'giraffe' to express what we see, feel and want. The 'giraffe' techniques can help us to express ourselves more effectively and truthfully, whilst at the same time improving the chances of creating a heart-connection with the other person. It enables us to connect with our own and the other people's Buddha-nature, and from that place it will be easier to find concrete, do-able solutions.
'Giraffe' is an empowering language that allows us to speak up about how we feel and what we want, in relation to anything we like or don't like. This may be a beautiful smile, help with the washing up, peace in Northern Ireland, a stifled silence in our sangha, pollution of the environment, mass murder, or people shouting at us during a meeting. Combining 'NVC's 'language of the heart' with Thay's 'practice of the heart' has given me powerful instruments for the transformation of myself, my relationships, and to contribute to the well-being of communities and the world. I hope that this article has made you curious enough to look more deeply into the 'giraffe' language, and discover whether learning more about it may help you meet more of your needs.