What if you could win an argument… without having to win the argument?
If you haven’t seen it, Below Deck is a reality TV show that follows the staff of a superyacht. Twenty- and thirty-somethings engage in hijinks and create drama amongst themselves, all while serving guests chartering 50-meter yachts in beautiful places like the Caribbean or the Mediterranean Sea. The staff is divided into two: the interior team, including stewards and the chef; and the deck team, comprised of a bosun and deckhands. The deck team keeps the boat clean, manages all the equipment for fun on the water, and handles the moorings at the dock. The stewards, or stews, function as cruise directors, bartenders, wait staff, and housekeeping. While the show focuses unapologetically on the crew’s partying off-hours, it also focuses closely on the work — which also stretches into the early mornings.
In one episode, two stews struggle with tension as they negotiate a long night ahead. While the show is built around a backbone of peer-to-peer friction, this particular moment is less common because it involves a subordinate — Brooke, the second stew — managing up to Hannah, the chief stew. After several weeks of deteriorating tolerance, Brooke has had it with Hannah’s lack of follow-through and disorganized supervision style. In the pantry, away from the guests, Brooke specifies one item after another that Hannah just hasn’t done. The result? Predictable — by this point in the season, we’ve learned that Hannah, while experienced in her field, struggles with insecurities that she unsuccessfully hides behind a practiced confidence.
The relatability of the moment is undeniable. How many times have you had a conversation like this? Or, more importantly, how often have you avoided a confrontation altogether because you just knew it wasn’t going to go well — especially one with your boss? Or, how often have you asked a friend how a difficult conversation went, only to hear this answer? “It went horribly. I don’t know why I bothered.”
This is a pretty normal reaction. Our minds, especially the emotional bits, are so focused on the present moment, that our first thought — “This was a complete failure!” — takes up what appears to be permanent residence. Brooke herself tells a fellow crew member that the conversation went down “like a bag of nails.” A subsequent conversation the next day between Hannah, Brooke, and another stew goes equally well.
Later in the storyline, however, we eventually see Hannah actually make many of the changes Brooke asked for — but without acknowledgement, let alone an apology. If you were in Brooke’s position, you might react with muted appreciation colored by skepticism about whether Hannah will sustain this pattern. I would empathize with you, and it’s easy to judge the experience as a mixed result. But I see it differently: as an outright win.
Because our emotions are so strong, it’s so easy to conclude that the entirety of something like this went terribly. This is what therapist types like me call a “cognitive distortion,” and more specifically, this one is called emotional reasoning. Because we feel a certain way, then something must be so.
If we look past the moments of frustration or even despair after what seems like a failed confrontation, we might miss what happens next. Here’s a way to look at it — and if you’ve ever dreamt of winning an Olympic medal, here’s your chance.
You confront someone. There are three outcomes, or medals, for your effort:
Gold
The other person acknowledges your points, and maybe even apologizes
They also change their behavior to align with what you asked for
Silver
The other person fails to acknowledge your points, or outright denies them
But they do change their behavior to align with at least part of what you asked for, if not all of it
Bronze
As in Silver, the other person denies or ignores your points
They fail to change their behavior to align with what you’ve asked
Brooke, for her efforts, would have earned a silver medal in this case — one I hope she would display proudly and prominently.
You might be thinking, Why do I get a medal if the person reacts defensively and fails to change? I wouldn’t blame you for asking that. But in this framework, you still get a medal. Why?
Do you know how hard it is to earn an Olympic medal? Of any color??
Spoiler: it’s really, really hard. Why we devalue “bronze” as “third-rate” is a whole other blog post. For now, remember this: committing to that scary conversation — with your boss, your peer, your kid, your spouse, your friend — is really, really hard, for so many reasons, and the more you know about your reasons, the better. That alone gets you on the podium. Standing up for yourself, in and of itself, is a behavior you can connect to a chosen value, which is your “why” in this case. “Why would I do this if I could leave the conversation empty-handed?”
Because having the conversation anyway is a gift to yourself. If that sounds corny, it’s because it is, but it’s also true. You will have proven to yourself that you’re capable of doing this hard thing, and that your opinion and voice matter. As long as you believe that, and as long as it is reinforced by the people you love and trust, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
And finally, that you said it at all is still relevant. Once you ring a bell, it can’t be unrung. Even if the person never changes their behavior during the time that you know them, they’ll still remember that you said something (even if they deny it!). And it may make a difference in the next chapter of that person’s life, even if you won’t be there to see it.
Wait — it sounds like gold and silver depend on things outside of my control. Are you implying that Olympians who get gold and silver medals were just lucky, because there were things outside their control that fell into place?
Not categorically, no. You’d have to ask each Olympian the story of their medal. Some might say, “Yeah, I got lucky when my rival slipped or missed a step.” Others might cite their unyielding grit and determination, and thank their coach, family, or religious faith. Still others might combine the two. For you, though, this doesn’t mean that you had nothing to do with a gold or silver result. Think about it:
If the other person changes their behavior, and/or acknowledges your feedback, there has to be something that you contributed to the relationship that influenced that. That contribution probably came in the form of respect, or the benefit of the doubt (however small!), you extended toward the other person. We often feel this coming from someone else before we’re conscious of it, and it matters. So don’t come away from this post thinking that “gold” and “silver” results, in this schema, are just lucky. You necessarily contribute to them.
This storyline was significant enough that my wife and I developed a shorthand: “Sounds like a Brooke/Hannah situation.” We use it to describe anything similar that pops up in our work or personal lives. Now that you know this shorthand too, keep an eye out for Brooke/Hannah situations in your life — and the medals you could earn.
