The other day, I finally decided to have a free session to discuss my new book, Making Numbers Count, with readers.
It was small and very informal — a group of people discussing numbers, asking about different ways to present data at work. Twenty minutes in, a woman, Lauren asked a question about an upcoming presentation.
“I only have one slide, but I have oodles of data. How do I choose what to put on the slide?”
It’s just the kind of question I spent the past few years researching and writing about. I had a few slides ready to screen share on the topic. I had studies to back it up. I had some wonderful examples to use that never made it into the book, and was really excited to share these with her. Helping people answer questions just like that was one of the reasons I decided to write the book and have a free session in the first place.
Instead, a guy named Peter answered the question.
So I just sat there.
At first, I thought, “oh, okay, this is like… a round table discussion. I’ll just play it cool.” But the other participants had asked me the question, not him. I did, eventually, get the chance to chime in.
Someone else asked another question.
Peter answered again.
Photo by Liza Summer from Pexels
What if Peter had spent a few years researching a topic, writing a book, and then decided to give some of his time to answer reader questions for free? And what if some random person jumped in and started answering questions?
A few hours later, after talking to a few people, I decided to send him a message:
I did just want to say that while I enjoyed having you, you answered a few questions that were directed towards me. I didn’t want to use the word mansplaining, so decided to wait and address it afterwards. It was informal and I’m sure you didn’t mean anything, but constantly having to face that makes me less likely to do these things in the future. Thanks for coming!
Based on his response, it’s safe to say that he thought I was overreacting. (Based on what he said during the session about his wife and daughter, he has a lot of “overreactors” in his life.) But pretty much every time in my life that I’ve accused someone of overreacting, all that really meant was that I was missing a lot of information.
What I’ve learned over the years is that sensitivity is relative. In the same way that laziness does not exist: If you think that someone is overreacting, it really just means that you don’t have the whole story.
What Peter didn’t see:
The fact that I immediately started thinking “I could be doing something better with my time than dealing with this.” (Opportunity cost is a major source of mental fatigue.)
How awkward it was for the other participants to have to listen to him.
How many times I’ve had to deal with that in the past. Social stressors, when chronic, can have a lasting impact on our health.
How tiring it is to have to engage in this “should I/shouldn’t I say something” mental gymnastics.
In the past, whenever I’ve accused someone of overreacting, they were under a lot of pressure at work or home. They were tired of having to answer the same question for the 1,000,000th time. There was an entire world of information that I was completely oblivious to — and judging them for.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Now, whenever I think that someone else is overreacting, I take a minute to consider the fact that I’m contributing to their stress. I’m a part of the pile-on.
If it seems like everyone else is overreacting, then it’s my problem: I’m the one who’s not being sensitive to others. I’m choosing to remain ignorant of how I’m contributing to the situation.
We’re never completely objective observers: we’re a part of the situation. Thinking that someone is “overreacting” just means that there’s more to the story that we have yet to learn. If you think that people should learn how to laugh, learn how to take a joke — and that we’re coddling young people — then, just maybe, it would help if you learned funnier jokes that aren’t being told at someone else’s expense.
The flip side of “No one is overreacting”
There are two sides to every story, of course: I have to take my own medicine.
I can’t just use this as blanket advice to give to others when I think they’re mansplaining or being insensitive. If someone else seems to be overreacting, I have to examine my own role. Maybe they’re not used to having someone else call out their behavior. Maybe I made a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe I could have just let it go. All I can do is examine my motives and get other perspectives.
All I can do is understand that I don’t have to be friends with everyone. When it comes to some people, the best thing we can do is let them go.