1.4 Two Basic Theories of Communication

This book will delve into many aspects of communication, and touch on a number of theories that help explain the process, but first it’s useful to review two fundamental theories that help explain communication as a whole. The first is a fairly simple theory whose fundamental lesson can be grasped quickly and easily; the other is less intuitive, and may even sound a little improbable. Let’s begin with Howard Giles’ CAT.

Underlying Theory #1: Communication Accommodation Theory.

I don’t know if Howard Giles actually has a cat, but his CAT — Communication Accommodation Theory^[1] — put a name to something people have observed for centuries: that communication works best when it is adapted to the audience. A communicator should tailor or accommodate their message or communication style to the receiver — speaking more loudly, for instance, to someone with hearing loss, or avoiding jargon when emailing someone who probably doesn’t know that terminology.

This seems so fundamental as to hardly be worth saying, but I’ve known many people who don’t do it very well. Perhaps they lack a fundamental skill that’s a necessary precursor for accommodation: being able to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and imagine what life is like for them. It shouldn’t be a surprise that some people aren’t good at this, because none of us are at first: newborn babies can’t distinguish the boundaries between themselves and their mother, for example, and it takes a while for them to catch on that their mother is a separate person. But even a few years after a child has figured this out, they still make predictable mistakes: a six-year-old boy loves baseball, and when he hears that his mother’s birthday is approaching he thinks, “I know the perfect present: I’ll get her a baseball mitt!” Sorry, kid: your mother loves you, but that doesn’t mean she wants the same kind of birthday present you would.

Twenty years later, the boy is a full-grown adult but might make the same mistake, dragging a romantic partner to a baseball game, and if that partner says “I’d rather go to the opera instead,” he can’t quite wrap his mind around that bizarre idea. Still, he could use the theory to figure out ways to talk his partner into going to a baseball game, perhaps by drawing analogies to opera. He could take a note from Reginald (played by Tom Courtenay) in the 2012 film Quartet, who did the opposite, explaining to a class of teenage rap fans why they should be able to relate to opera: “Opera is: when a guy’s stabbed in the back, instead of bleeding, he sings. It seems to me, after much research, that rap is when a guy is stabbed in the back, instead of bleeding, he talks — rhythmically, even with feeling.” That may not be enough to make opera fans out of them, but CAT would say Reginald is on the right track.

Adapting to your audience can go too far as well: your elderly aunt might find it insulting or unnecessary that you talk so loudly to her, or someone from another culture could be offended if you try too hard to adopt their dialect (like the “cash me outside” girl). High self monitors may be too good at adjusting their behavior in response to others, and get accused of being insincere as a result (see the discussion of the problem with “just telling them what they want to hear” at the end of Chapter 5). When the son in the cartoon above decides he should “just be [him]self,” it’s a reminder to not adapt his style too much in order to attract someone else — and the father’s response is funny because he can see the other side of the coin.

In other words, there are forces pulling in opposite directions. Are there any theories about that? Funny you should ask….

Underlying Theory #2: Dialectical Theory.

Leslie Baxter’s Relational Dialectics Theory, which began in the study of interpersonal relationships but grew to other domains, is based on an idea that can sound illogical: the principle that, as a human being, you have fundamental needs, but you also need the opposite of those needs. When you think, for example, of “thirst,” you know that bodies need liquids to survive — but how can that need have an opposite? We don’t really have a name for the need to get rid of liquids (other than specific ways to do that, such as perspiration or urination), so you might not think of that as a need.

When it comes to social and interpersonal needs, however, it’s easy to identify opposing sets of needs that do have common names: people have a fundamental need for connection with other people (research shows how damaging social isolation, such as solitary confinement in prison, is to the human psyche), but they also have a fundamental need for autonomy and individuality (you may have felt, for instance, that you’ve spent too much time around someone and never get to do your own thing). People have a need for stability and predictability — having some sense of what is going to happen next so that life doesn’t feel completely chaotic all the time — but also an opposing need for change and novelty so life doesn’t get stultifyingly monotonous (which is why the character of Phil in the movie Groundhog Day starts attempting suicide after he has relived the exact same day a few hundred times in a row). And specifically related to communication, humans have a deep-seated need for expression — the ability to open up and share what’s in their heart — but also an opposing need for privacy and the ability to conceal things from others.

Like CAT, Relational Dialectics Theory includes many facets beyond what is discussed here, but for the purposes of this book, the important part is the concept of opposing needs, which will crop up in many later chapters. I will often talk about the importance of a particular facet of communication, then seemingly contradict myself by shifting gears and looking at the other side of the coin. For example, over the years I have heard countless students suggest that the solution to many problems in the workplace or in relationships is to be “open and honest,” and while I agree that a shortage of openness and honesty is often where the problem begins, I am skeptical that addressing this shortage would solve everything. There are times when keeping your mouth shut is the wise thing to do, and sometimes the best kind of communication is not communicating. The other issue with the “open and honest” advice is that it usually ignores people’s motivations to clam up; suggesting they “tell all” is not going to work if you don’t acknowledge the reasons they might not want to do that. So keep in mind that when I look at one side of the communication coin, you can expect a look at the other side of the coin to follow.