Episode 6 · 21 min

After the conversation, from zero to ten

Almost no hard conversation fixes everything the first time, and the verdict we give it afterwards is usually unfair. This week, the scaling question from solution-focused brief therapy, by Steve de Shazer, Insoo Kim Berg and colleagues, and the second question that shows what already moved.

Transcript

Today: what to do after a hard conversation, and a question that goes from zero to ten and changes what you see.

The situation

A couple has been putting off a conversation for months. It's about how the work of the house is divided. She feels that most of it falls on her: not only the cleaning and the cooking, but the invisible part, remembering the dentist, noticing that the milk is running out, knowing which bills are due. He thinks things are more or less balanced. Every time the subject comes close, one of them changes it.

Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, they have the conversation. It doesn't go badly. Nobody shouts. But it doesn't end with a neat agreement either. He listens, he admits a few things, he gets defensive about others. They both end up tired. The conversation just stops, somewhere in the middle, when one of them has to go pick up their daughter from a friend's house.

The next day, she is folding laundry and thinking about it. And the verdict she arrives at is short: "It didn't work. Nothing's going to change."

That verdict feels true. It also leaves out almost everything that happened. He listened for almost an hour. He admitted that he had never thought about how long the grocery shopping takes. They didn't shout. And that morning, without being asked, he did the dishes.

This is what usually happens after a hard conversation. We judge it in black and white. It worked, or it didn't. And because almost no hard conversation solves everything the first time, the verdict is almost always "it didn't." That verdict makes the next conversation feel pointless. So we put it off even longer, and the relationship stays stuck exactly where it was.

What a hard conversation usually does, most of the time, is not solve everything. It moves something. This episode is about seeing how much.

There is one more thing worth noticing in this scene. The verdict "it didn't work" doesn't only change how she sees the conversation. It also changes how she'll behave the next time the subject comes up. If it didn't work, why try again? She'll probably wait longer, and the next conversation will start with more frustration than this one did. The way we judge a conversation afterwards is part of what decides whether there will be a next one. That's the real reason it's worth judging it fairly.

What the research says

The tool we'll look at today comes from solution-focused brief therapy, and it's worth saying where that approach came from. It was developed by Steve de Shazer, Insoo Kim Berg and their colleagues at the Brief Family Therapy Center in Milwaukee, and described in a 1986 article that is considered the origin of the approach. The central idea of that school was unusual at the time: instead of spending most of the work on where a problem comes from, look at what is already working, and at the next possible step.

It's important to be clear about what this episode can and can't say. The scaling question is a therapy tool, used by professionals, and the sources we check describe its origin, not a trial of the everyday version we'll use here. So this is not a promise that a number will fix a relationship.

What the research on relationships does suggest is why looking back matters. In the studies by John Gottman and Robert Levenson that followed couples over 14 years, it wasn't only negative emotion during conflict that predicted how relationships ended. The lack of positive emotion in everyday conversation predicted the separations that came later. In other words, what happens between the hard conversations, the small good moments, the dishes done without asking, matters too. And those are exactly the things a black-and-white verdict erases.

The tool

The scaling question has two parts, and the second one is the one that does the work.

The first part is the scale itself. "From zero to ten, where zero is the worst this relationship has been, and ten is how you'd like it to be, where is it today?"

There's no right answer. A four is a four. A six is a six. The number is there for one thing only: to take the verdict out of black and white and put it on a scale. The moment you say "four," you've already said something different from "it didn't work." You've said "it's not where I want it, and it's not at zero."

The second part is the question that follows: "What makes it a four, and not a three?"

This is the question that changes things. It makes you look at what's already good, which is exactly what we fail to see after a hard conversation. "It's a four because at least he listened to the end." "Because we didn't shout, for the first time in months." "Because he did the dishes this morning, without me asking."

And there's a third question, for when you're ready. "What would one point higher look like?" Not a ten. One point. A five. "It would be having a list of who does what." "It would be him noticing when we're out of milk, without me saying it." One point higher is small enough to be possible, and concrete enough that you'll know when you get there.

Why look back at all

Because a hard conversation is rarely just one conversation. The relationships that matter are made of many conversations, and what you learn in one prepares the next.

Without looking back, we tend to remember only the worst moment: the defensive sentence, the silence, the time it ended. And the next conversation starts from there, heavier than it needs to be. Looking back with the scale does the opposite. It shows what moved, even a little. It shows what helped, so you can do it again on purpose. And it points to the next step, which is small.

There's another reason, and it's about you, not the relationship. After a hard conversation, many people turn the verdict on themselves: "I said it badly." "I always ruin these things." The scale is a way of looking back that doesn't need anyone to be guilty. It just asks what's there.

How to do it

A day or two after the conversation, when things have settled, sit down with a piece of paper and answer six questions.

First, before: from zero to ten, where was the relationship before the conversation? If you didn't note it at the time, answer the way you remember it.

Second, now: where is it today?

Third: what makes it that number, and not one lower? Write at least three things, however small they seem. This is the part most people want to skip. Don't.

Fourth: what did you do in the conversation that helped? A sentence that worked. A pause you took. Something you chose not to say.

Fifth: what would one point higher look like?

And sixth: what's the smallest possible step toward that point? If you listened to last week's episode, you know how to make it concrete: an if-then plan, with a moment attached.

If the number went down, the question changes slightly: "what kept it from dropping further?" There's almost always something. That something is the starting point.

The example

Let's go back to the couple, and to her, folding laundry the day after.

She decides to try the scale instead of the verdict.

Before the conversation: "A three."

Now: "Honestly, a four."

What makes it a four and not a three: "He admitted he had never thought about how long the shopping takes. We didn't shout. And he did the dishes this morning without me asking."

What she did that helped: "I started with what happened last week, not with 'you never.' And I said I was tired, not that he was lazy."

One point higher: "It would be having a list, written down, of who does what."

The smallest step: "If we're having coffee at home on Saturday morning, then I'll suggest we make the list together, in ten minutes."

The conversation didn't solve everything. It moved one point, and it left the next step ready. And notice what happened to her verdict. "It didn't work" became "it moved from three to four, and here's what helped." Those are two very different starting points for the next conversation.

On Saturday, they make the list. It takes twenty minutes instead of ten, because they argue about who should handle the car. But the list goes on the fridge, and for the first time in months, the question of the house becomes something they look at together, instead of something one of them carries alone.

Another example, a daughter and her mother

The scale works just as well for conversations about hurt, not only about chores. A woman finally tells her mother that her comments about her career have been hurting her for years. The conversation is emotional. Her mother cries a little, says she was only worried, says it's hard to change at her age. Nothing is promised.

Two days later, the daughter uses the scale. Before: a three. Now: a five. What makes it a five and not a four: "She told me about the years she worked two jobs, which she had never told me. I didn't leave with a knot in my stomach. And she sent me an old photo yesterday, for no reason." One point higher: "It would be her asking about my work without mentioning the job I left, just once."

That last answer is precise and small, which is exactly what makes it useful. The daughter now knows what she's looking for. And when it happens, a few weeks later, she notices, and tells her mother that she noticed.

Another example, two friends

The scale isn't only for family. Two friends from college have drifted apart. One moved to another city, the calls got shorter, and the last one ended in an argument about a wedding one of them didn't attend. A few weeks later, one of them calls to talk about it. The call is awkward. They both apologize, a little stiffly, and hang up with a vague "let's talk more."

That night, he tries the scale. Before the call: "A two. We hadn't spoken since the wedding." Now: "A four."

What makes it a four and not a three: "She picked up. She said she missed me, which I didn't expect. And we laughed once, about the old apartment."

One point higher would be this: "A call that isn't about the wedding. Just a normal call, about nothing."

The smallest step: "If it's Sunday evening and I'm cooking, then I'll call her for ten minutes, with no agenda."

Notice what the scale did. Without it, the call would probably have been filed away as "awkward," and awkward calls are easy to never repeat. With it, a two became a four, and the next step is almost easy: a call about nothing. Between friends, a call about nothing can be exactly what rebuilds the thread.

Using the scale with the other person

The scale doesn't have to stay in your notebook. It can be a way of talking with the other person too, as long as it's used carefully.

The careful part is this: with the other person, the scale works better about the relationship and the future than as a grade for how they did. "From zero to ten, how much do you think things improved?" can sound like a test they might fail. "From zero to ten, how confident are you that we can make this work?" is an invitation. And then the second question, asked together, often brings up things each person did for the other that the other hadn't even noticed.

"It's a six for me, because you've been asking about my day more." "Really? I didn't think you'd noticed." Moments like that are small, and they are exactly the positive moments in everyday conversation that the research suggests matter over time.

What the number is not

It's worth being clear about what the number means, because it's easy to load it with more than it can carry.

The number is not a measure of how much you love the other person, or how much they love you. A relationship can be a three and full of love. It can be a seven and fragile in ways the number doesn't show. The scale measures one thing: how close the relationship is, today, to how you'd like it to be. That's all.

The number is also not comparable between people. Your four and someone else's four are not the same four. Some people rarely give anything above a six; others start at eight. That's fine, because the scale isn't for comparing you with anyone. It's for comparing you with yourself, a week ago, a month ago.

And the number is not a verdict about the other person. "It's a three" is not the same as "they're a three." It's a description of something the two of you share, and that both of you can move.

When the two of you give different numbers

If you use the scale together, there will be days when the numbers don't match. You say six; the other person says three. The temptation is to argue about who's right. Don't.

A difference in numbers is information, and often very useful information. It means that one of you is seeing something the other isn't. The question to ask is not "how can you say three?" It's the same second question, asked with curiosity: "what makes it a three for you, and not a two?" And then, maybe: "what would make it a four?"

Very often, the answer surprises the person with the higher number. "It's a three because we only talk about the kids now." "It's a three because I feel like I'm always the one who starts the hard conversations." Those answers are worth more than any agreement about the number, because they tell you exactly where the next step is.

The scale over time

The scale becomes more useful the more you use it. Once is a snapshot. Every week or every month, it becomes a line, and lines show things snapshots don't.

You may notice that the relationship dips every year in the same season, when work is heaviest. You may notice that the number went up after the conversation you almost didn't have. You may notice that it has been stuck at five for two months, which is a sign that the next step needs to be different from the last ones.

Keeping the record doesn't need to be complicated. A note on your phone with the date and the number, and one line about what makes it that number, is enough. When you read the list a few months later, you'll see the relationship the way you rarely can from inside a single week: as something that moves.

Using the scale before a conversation

The scale was born as a way to look back, but it's just as useful before a hard conversation. Measure the relationship the day before, and then ask the third question, what one point higher would look like, before you talk.

That changes what you're aiming for. Instead of walking into the conversation hoping to fix everything, which is how most hard conversations end in disappointment, you walk in aiming for one point. "If this conversation ends with us agreeing to try the list for two weeks, that's a five, and that's enough for today." A small, clear aim makes it much easier to notice when the conversation has done its job, and to end it well, instead of pushing until something breaks.

When the number is very low

Sometimes the honest answer is a zero, a one, a two. The relationship is at its worst, or close to it.

A low number deserves care. The second question still applies, and there is often still something: "it's a one and not a zero because we still have lunch together on Sundays." That something may be small, but it's the thread you start from.

And sometimes a very low number is telling you something that no conversation technique can fix. If the relationship involves fear, humiliation, or any kind of violence, the next step is not a better conversation. It's protecting yourself, and getting support: someone you trust, a specialized service, or the emergency number where you live. The scale can help you see that clearly. It was never meant to make you stay somewhere unsafe.

The traps

The first trap is using the scale to grade yourself. The number is not a score for your performance. A four after a three is progress, not "still six points from ten."

The second trap is skipping the second question. Without "what makes it this number and not one lower," the scale is just another verdict, with a number instead of a word. The second question is the whole point.

The third trap is aiming for ten. Ten is how you'd like the relationship to be, not what the next step should be. People who ask "what would it take to get to ten" usually end up with a list so long it's discouraging. One point higher is the question.

And the fourth trap is using the scale on the other person as an evaluation, in the middle of an argument. "Oh, so on a scale of zero to ten, how selfish was that?" is not the scaling question. It's sarcasm with numbers.

Your exercise this week

After your next hard conversation, or thinking about one you had recently, answer the six questions: the number before, the number now, what makes it that number and not one lower, what you did that helped, what one point higher would look like, and the smallest step toward it.

And if you haven't had the conversation yet, answer the first three for the relationship as it is today, and then the fifth one, what one point higher would look like. It's a good way to find out where to begin, and what to aim for when you do.

What to do with what you find

If the number went up, even by one, take a moment to notice it before moving on. Write down the three things that make it that number. They are your evidence that conversations with this person can move something, which is exactly what you'll need to remember the next time you're tempted to put one off.

If the number stayed the same, look at the answers to the third question anyway. Very often, a relationship that didn't move still has something holding it up, and that something is worth protecting while you work on the rest.

And if the number went down, be gentle with the verdict. Ask what kept it from going lower, and what you learned about this person and about this subject. Sometimes a conversation that goes badly shows you that the subject is bigger than one conversation, or that it needs someone else in the room, a mediator, a counselor, a professional. That's not failure. It's knowing the real size of what you're dealing with.

One last suggestion. The next time the relationship moves up a point, tell the other person, in one sentence, what you noticed. "I noticed you've been asking about my day more. It makes a difference." It costs almost nothing, and it turns the scale from something you keep to yourself into something the relationship can feel.

Before you go

If you'd like company for this, Confidey has an exercise called From zero to ten, which asks the scaling questions about the relationship you choose, and keeps what you answered with the exercise, so you can compare next time. You can find it at confidey dot com.

Next week, we move from conversations to decisions: what to do after you decide to change something in a relationship, and a four-question model from coaching that turns a wish into a step.

Thank you for listening, and for staying until the end. Take care of the conversations that matter.