Topic 87: On Holding One's Tongue

Carol:

Bite Your Tongue

David Brooks

I wanted take the easy way out today, invoking the right to hold my (writing) tongue. I’m tired from the drive home and still haven’t put away the Christmas decorations. But, I read an op-ed piece in this morning’s New York Times by David Brooks that changed my mind. I like reading Brooks because (1) he writes from a different political perspective than mine and (2) he writes with civility, thoughtfulness, and elegance.

One of my favorite ways to start the semester was by handing out a David Brooks essay for discussion. Students in our central Arizona (mostly Red) community  would often leap to the conclusion that Brooks is a liberal (Blue) journalist because his column comes from the New York Times. Before we started talking about the content of his article, I would ask what students knew about the author. That’s when the assumptions about his politics came out, that’s when I showed them how to research the author’s credentials, and that’s when they found out in fact that Brooks writes from a Conservative perspective. The ensuing discussions about the biases we all have was always lively and thoughtful.

Even though I would color myself Blue, very Blue, I would not paint Brooks Red. That’s because I trust him to be true to his value system, to thoughtfully evaluate based on multiple perspectives, and to avoid knee-jerk ideological responses. He adheres to the notion of “the loyal opposition” where people can agree to disagree without taking an “us vs. them” stance.

So, his essay “Tree of Failure” is in some ways a response to President Obama’s speech in Tucson and its emphasis on civility, but he moves on to talk about failure, ignorance, and the growth process of constructive criticism and feedback:
         You may write a mediocre column or make a mediocre speech or propose
         a mediocre piece of legislation, but others argue with you, correct you
         and introduce elements you never thought of. Each of these efforts may
         also be flawed, but together, if the system is working well, they move things
         gradually forward (source: NY Times Op-Ed Jan 14, 2011 page A23)

Brooks uses words like civility, modesty and sensibility, which I find genuinely comforting in a world where it seems like conversations escalate all too quickly into arguments and shouting matches.

So, what does all this have to do with holding one’s tongue.  Maybe, it’s more about curbing one’s tongue. Not an expression we hear so much anymore. I know that when I’m writing, what I really want to say comes at the end of a process not the beginning. What I started out thinking gets transformed as I take a wrong direction and rein myself back in or edit for conciseness and simplicity. What I blurt out on the page, or blurt out in a conversation, is rarely my best thinking. If I don’t hold my tongue, what comes out can be sarcasm at someone else’s expense or reactive rather than constructive. When I’m writing, I can take the time to reshape those first blundered words on the page, tone down the emotion, but what comes out of my mouth cannot be re-called so easily. 

It’s just as important to know when to stop talking as when to start. I’m done.


Source:

Brooks, David. “The Tree of Failure.” New York Times 14 Jan 2011. A23.
 

Megan:

I worry about Intellectual Property Theft

This is going to be a fun topic. I associate holding one's tongue with keeping something secret. What examples can I give of keeping a secret without failing to keep the secret? We have a lot of family reading these essays, and the biggest secrets and dramas often happen within families.  To avoid any potential for hurt feelings,  what I’m going to do is tell you about something without telling you what the something is, that way the conundrum can be revealed without giving away the bank. You’ll see what I mean.

The conference I attended in San Diego ended last Sunday, and then I stayed with Kelly (as I‘ve mentioned). During that time I came up with 3 truly brilliant ideas – ideas that will make money and contribute to the information profession. I’m serious. These ideas will be revolutionary. But I need to do some research. The ideas are so great they might already have been invented. If they have, then too bad, but I will purchase one from whoever did the inventing because now that I’ve thought about it, these new things are going to be absolutely indispensible. And if my great ideas haven’t already been invented, then I am going to need to find a partner because I do not have the technical skills to create the prototypes. It is also possible that my great ideas are impractical or impossible to create in real life.

 I may have seen The Social Network a few times too many. I have relationships with people who have the skills to construct my great ideas, who might make excellent business partners, but what if they turn out to be the worst business partners in the world? It’s not a good idea to mix money with friendship. But we could be the next great partnership, like all the other great partnerships everyone could get rich and contribute to the profession at the same time. Or something like that. I am conflicted.  I just don’t want to be the person who’s sits around bitter and telling everyone that I was actually the inventor of “The Greatest Library Related iPhone App ever” (TM).

I think I’ve already figured out what I’m going to do. I’ll do some research, sketch out the instructional designs, and objectives and find out if they would work. Then I will approach my friends with contracts and confidentiality and non-competition clauses.  Worst case scenario, I have to take classes and learn to do the coding and data base construction myself. It will take longer but I should learn how to do it anyway.

So, I would say the conference was a success. I remember after the prison library conferences, I would always return to work so excited and full of ideas, and over time the place would wear down my enthusiasm, but I always got the most ideas after spending time with colleagues.  Eventually I may reveal the great ideas, after  I've determined if they are viable. I once came up with a plan to raise children using only sock puppets and I told everyone about it before I'd fully thought it through. Big mistake.