The distortions of hyperbole
“There were literally millions of jellyfish.” (Image by Krysten Merriman)
Often, as a coach, employer, or teacher, I’m trying to put my finger on something that doesn’t feel right.
If something is not working, I’ve got to try to figure out why. I’ll look for any clues. One of the more subtle signs of a breakdown is the use of hyperbole.
If someone on my team says something like, “I tried like a hundred times,” or “I’ve been reminding him constantly,” or “Everyone was thrilled,” my ears perk up. These are stories that can’t possibly be literally true, yet they are shared with sincerity. This is a disconnect that causes problems.
Hyperbolic statements might seem innocuous, but they elide distinct events or experiences to fit a narrative. When we’re trying to solve a problem, we want to examine these events and experiences in detail. It doesn’t help for someone to say, “We tried everything we possibly could,” or “I’ve read this chapter over and over and I just can’t get it.” We have to explore exactly what was said, what was done, and how. Often, in doing so, we can find the reality of the situation. From there, we can find the source of any problems, and solving them will be much easier.
Someone might use hyperbole to avoid conflict and make people feel good. If everything is perfect and everyone is happy, there’s nothing more to say. Others might be trying to avoid criticism. If I tried everything and did it all exactly as I was instructed, I am blameless. When we believe, as so many of us do, that asking for help or receiving corrective feedback means we are stupid or weak, it’s logical that we would avoid or conceal any sign that we need more support or that we aren’t sure what’s gone wrong.
Unfortunately, when we cover up the gaps and imperfections of the project we’re working on (or our understanding of it), we are losing out on an opportunity to learn and improve. The project can’t get better and neither can we. Problems can’t be solved because they can’t even be identified. The consequences can be severe. Our fear of being less than perfect could potentially lead to tragic outcomes for others. This happens in institutions of all kinds, from families to the aviation industry to government.
To improve communication and get to the heart of the matter, we should eschew hyperbole and the distortions it allows us to hide behind. Whenever possible, we should use precise, direct language — and, if possible, identify the impulse that’s leading us to want to exaggerate.
“I’ve been calling him night and day” becomes, “I called him twice last week and once on Monday, and I feel uncomfortable about bothering him further.”
“Everyone was thrilled” becomes, “Three out of the five people think your idea isn’t very good, but no one wants to be the one to say so.”
“I’ve read this chapter over and over,” becomes, “I read it once and didn’t get it, and then I spent an hour trying to read it again but I kept getting distracted and feeling bad about myself.”
When the truth is revealed, we can come up with strategies for solving the problems that are uncovered. Things can get better.
In my work, it took me awhile to see hyperbole as the threat that it is. I barely saw it at all. That’s because I wanted to believe that problems were under control. I was content to let the pleasers in our midst continue to please. But when I began to investigate further, I saw that I didn’t have the whole story. If I wanted to serve my students and clients in a meaningful way, I had to understand what was really going on.
Now, exaggeration is a known enemy. Even our students learn to slow down and say what they really mean instead of using hyperbolic language. We’re communicating more clearly and directly with each other and solving problems as they come up. People are learning how to ask for help.
I’m pretty sure that everything will be absolutely amazing and perfect from now on.
