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Summary

Listen first and acknowledge what you hear, even if you don’t agree with it, before expressing your own experience or point of view.

In order to understand more of the “big picture” of your conversation, and in order to receive more of your conversation partner’s attention, pay attention first. Listen and give a brief restatement of what you have heard — especially feelings — before you express your own needs or position.

The kind of listening recommended here mentally separates acknowledging from approving or agreeing. Acknowledging another person’s thoughts and feelings does not have to mean that you approve of or agree with that person’s actions or way of experiencing, or that you will do whatever someone asks.

1.1 The First Skill — and Why It Matters So Much

In the Introduction, we explored the “born to learn” predicament: you were born with a magnificent capacity for language, but zero words in your vocabulary. You had to learn every single one of them. The same is true for communication skills. You were born with the capacity for skillful, responsive listening — but that capacity has to be developed, practiced, and cultivated. Nobody arrives knowing how to do this.

And of all the skills in this workbook, listening may be the most transformative — and the most underestimated. It is the skill that most quickly changes the emotional temperature of a difficult conversation. It is the skill that most directly addresses the “emotional support” side of the relationship triangle we explored in the Introduction. And it is the skill that, with practice, begins to reshape not just your conversations but your character — more on that later in this chapter.

Responsive listening is also unusual in that it serves two very different needs at once. In the quiet, everyday life of a relationship, it is the thread that weaves connection — the way we let the people around us know, moment by moment, that they are seen and received. And in the hardest moments — during conflict, misunderstanding, or high-stakes disagreement — it is the practice that most reliably keeps a conversation from spiraling into a deadlock or an explosion. This chapter explores both dimensions, beginning with the quieter one, because it turns out that’s where the deeper power lives.

What follows is both a practical guide and an invitation to experience listening in a new light: not as a passive activity (simply waiting while the other person finishes talking) but as one of the most active, demanding, and rewarding things a human being can do.  The great twentieth-century psychologist Carl Rogers made this kind of listening the heart of his approach to psychotherapy, and called it “active listening.”  He was also convinced that everyone could learn to do listen in this way, and that it would bring an element of emotional support into every conversation where it was practiced. I have slightly re-labeled the practice as “responsive listening” because so many people imagine that good listening is completely silent on the part of the listener.  The magic is in very brief spoken responses that let the speaker know you really understand the story of their experience, beyond just saying “yeah…” or “uh-huh…” (which give no real hint about how well you are following along).   

1.2 Listening and the Three Things Every Relationship Needs

In the Introduction, we explored the insight that every human group — from a couple to an entire organization — needs to do three things at once: accomplish tasks together, support one another emotionally, and accommodate the differences in temperament and experience that its members bring. We could call this the triangle of team survival, and the triangle analogy has an important message to bring us.

 

If the strength of a team is represented by the area of the triangle, you will notice that even if two sides keep their length, all it takesfor the area of the triangle to be greatly diminished is for just one side to be greatly diminished.

Responsive listening is the primary vehicle for all three sides of that triangle. It is the most direct way we give one another emotional support. It is the essential tool for navigating across difference — for genuinely understanding someone whose way of experiencing the world is quite different from our own. And without it, the task side of the triangle quickly suffers too, because people who feel unheard will struggle to cooperate with team plans,  tend to repeat themselves more loudly trying to make their point, or simply withdraw and shut down.

By listening and then repeating back in your own words the essence and feeling of what you have just heard — how thing look from the speaker’s point of view — you allow the speaker to feel the satisfaction of being understood, one of the deepest of all human needs. The listening ear is the star of the conversation.

Our conversation partners do not automatically know how well we have understood them, and they may not be very good at asking for confirmation from us. When a conversation is tense or difficult it is even more important to listen first and acknowledge what you hear. Otherwise, your chances of being heard by the other person go way down.

Consider a hospital nurse speaking with a frustrated patient:

“I hear that you are very uncomfortable right now, Susan, and you would really like to get out of that bed and move around. But your doctor says your bones won’t heal unless you stay put for another week.”

Susan is much more likely to listen to the the statement above than if the nurse had simply said:

“I’m really sorry, Susan, but you have to stay in bed. Your doctor says your bones won’t heal unless you stay put for another week.”

What is missing in this second version is an acknowledgment of Susan’s present experience of frustration. And the nurse in the first version is not just doing her job more skillfully. She is doing all three things simultaneously: attending to Susan’s medical situation (task), acknowledging Susan’s frustration (emotional support), and bridging the difference between Susan’s perspective and the medical reality she cannot yet feel the importance of (navigating difference). All three, in one short exchange. That is the leverage point of skillful listening.

If listening is this powerful in a brief hospital exchange, you might expect it to be a natural and effortless part of our daily lives. But it isn’t. And before we explore the specific skills that make responsive listening possible, it’s worth asking why it has become harder than ever.

1.3 Listening in a Distracted Age

One thing has changed enormously since the first edition of this workbook was written: the competition for our attention. Smartphones, notifications, the ambient pull of social media — all of these have made sustained, present-tense attention to another person significantly harder than it used to be. Many of us have developed the habit of half-listening while simultaneously scanning a screen, composing a reply in our minds, or monitoring what’s happening across the room.

Our conversation partners notice this, even when they don’t say so. The experience of being half-listened to is, for most people, only marginally better than the experience of being ignored. It communicates, beneath the surface:

“You are not quite important enough to have my full attention.”

That is rarely the message we intend to send.

One practical response is simply to slow down and make a deliberate choice at the beginning of a conversation:

“I am going to be here, fully, for the next few minutes.”

Put the phone face-down. Turn away from the screen. Make eye contact. These small acts of physical commitment have a surprisingly large effect on the quality of the listening that follows — and on how the other person feels about the conversation.

The listening skills described in this chapter are, in some ways, a counter-cultural practice. They ask us to slow down in a culture that rewards speed, to focus on one thing in a culture that rewards multitasking, to be genuinely curious about another person in a culture that often treats conversation as a vehicle for broadcasting rather than connecting. That attentive and responsive listening them worth practicing all the more.

But distraction is not the only obstacle. There is another force working against responsive listening — one that operates not in our environment but in our deeply held habits of thought. And its consequences, as one devastating true story illustrates, can be far greater than a missed connection over dinner.

1.4 When Listening Fails: Two True Stories

A life-and-death failure to listen. On a snowy afternoon in Washington, D.C., on January 13, 1982, Air Florida Flight 90 crashed into the 14th Street Bridge and plunged into the icy Potomac River, killing 78 people. The cockpit voice recorder tells a chilling story of communication failure. As the Boeing 737 prepared for takeoff in icy conditions, the first officer noticed that the instrument readings looked wrong:

First Officer: “God, look at that thing. That don’t seem right, does it? Ah, that’s not right.”

Captain: “Yes it is, there’s eighty.”

First Officer: “Naw, I don’t think that’s right. Ah, maybe it is.”

Captain: “Hundred and twenty.”

First Officer: “I don’t know.”

The first officer expressed his doubts repeatedly, but the captain dismissed them without genuinely exploring what his colleague was seeing. There was no moment of “I hear you — what’s our next step?” No acknowledgment, no curiosity, no responsive pause. Critical information was ignored. The opportunity to abort the takeoff was missed. And 78 people died.

This tragedy galvanized the aviation industry into rethinking how flight crews communicate. The resulting reforms — known as Crew Resource Management — placed empathic, responsive listening at the center of cockpit procedure. The lesson extends far beyond aviation: in any high-stakes situation, the failure to genuinely hear what someone is telling you can have catastrophic consequences. (The full account of Flight 90 and its lessons appears as Reading 1-2 at the end of this chapter.)

A small miracle of empathy. But the power of responsive listening doesn’t show itself only in dramatic crises. Psychologist John Gottman describes a moment with his two-year-old daughter, Moriah, on an airplane. She wanted Zebra, her favorite stuffed animal, which was packed in the checked luggage far below. Gottman tried explaining that he couldn’t get it. He tried reasoning with her. He tried distracting her. Nothing worked. She grew more and more upset.

Then he tried something different. He simply acknowledged what she was feeling.

“You wish you had Zebra now.”

“Yeah,” she said sadly.

“And you’re angry because we can’t get him for you.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re tired now, and smelling Zebra and cuddling with him would feel real good. I wish we had Zebra here so you could hold him.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.

Within a few minutes, she was asleep. She wasn’t interested in his excuses, his arguments, or his diversions. But finding out that he understood how she felt made her feel better. Gottman calls it a “memorable testament to the power of empathy.” (The full story appears as Reading 1-1 at the end of this chapter.)

Two stories, vastly different in scale. But both reveal the same truth: when people feel genuinely heard, something shifts. And when they don’t, things go wrong — sometimes a little, sometimes catastrophically. This raises the question at the heart of this chapter: what exactly is the practice that makes this kind of listening possible? The answer centers on one deceptively simple distinction.

1.5 The Power of Simple Acknowledging

The practice of responsive listening described here separates acknowledging the thoughts and feelings a person expresses from approving, agreeing, advising, or persuading.

This distinction is the heart of everything in this chapter. And for many people, it is genuinely surprising — because in everyday conversation, acknowledging and agreeing are fused together in our minds like a two-for-one package deal at the supermarket. The effect is that if John feels that any acknowledgment of Fred’s experience implies agreement and approval, John will not acknowledge any of Fred’s experience. Fred tries harder and harder to be heard, and John tries harder and harder not to hear. This, of course, is a recipe for a stalemated argument.

But acknowledging another person’s thoughts and feelings still leaves you with all of your options:

• You still have the option of agreeing or disagreeing with that person’s point of view, actions, or way of experiencing.
• You still have the option of saying yes or no to a request.
• You still have the option of saying more about the matter being discussed.

People want both: to be understood and acknowledged on the one hand, and to be approved and agreed with on the other. With practice, you can learn to respond first with a simple acknowledgment. As you do this, you may find that you can give your conversation partners half of what they want, even if you can’t give them all of what they want. In many conflict situations, that will be a giant step forward. Your conversation partners will also be more likely to acknowledge your position and experience, even if they don’t sympathize with you. This mutual acknowledgment can create an emotional atmosphere in which it is easier to work toward agreement or more gracefully accommodate disagreements.

Here are three examples of acknowledgments that do not imply agreement:

Counselor to a drug abuse client: “I hear that you are feeling terrible right now and that you really want some drugs to get you through the day. And I want you to know that I’m still concerned this stuff you’re taking is going to kill you.”

Mother to seven-year-old: “I know that you want some more cake and ice cream, Jimmy, because it tastes so good, but you’ve already had three pieces and I’m really worried that you’ll get an upset tummy. That’s why I don’t want you to have any more.”

Union representative to company owner’s representative: “I understand from your presentation that you see XYZ Company as short of cash, threatened by foreign competition, and not in a position to agree to any wage increases. Now I would like us to explore contract arrangements that would allow my union members to get a wage increase and XYZ Company to advance its organizational goals.”

In each case, the listener’s acknowledgment of his or her conversation partner’s experience or position increases the chance that the conversation partner will be willing to listen in turn.

As Marshall Rosenberg reports in his book, Nonviolent Communication: studies in labor-management negotiations demonstrate that the time required to reach conflict resolution is cut in half when each negotiator agrees, before responding, to repeat what the previous speaker had said.

In learning to better coordinate our life activities with the life activities of others, we would do well to resist two very popular (but terrible) models of communicating: arguing a case in court and participating in a public debate. In courts and debates, each side tries to make its own points and listens to the other side only to tear down the other side’s arguments. Since the debaters rarely have to reach agreement or get anything done together outside of the courtroom or debate stage, it doesn’t seem to matter how much ill will their hostile conversational style generates.

But most of us are in a very different situation. We spend most of our lives trying to arrange agreement and cooperative, coordinated action. So we need to be concerned with engaging people, not defeating them. In business — and in family life, too — the person we defeat today will often be the person whose cooperation we need tomorrow.

Once people feel that their messages and feelings have been heard, they start to relax and they have more attention available for listening. That is the quiet miracle at the center of responsive listening: by acknowledging first, you create the conditions in which you yourself can finally be heard.

If that sounds straightforward, it is — in principle. But the experience of actually doing it, especially when emotions are running high, requires more than understanding. It requires practice. The following suggestions can help you develop that practice.

1.6 Suggestions for Practicing Responsive Listening

The simplest acknowledgment is to reassure your conversation partner with a word or two that you have heard and understood whatever they are experiencing. For example, saying, “You sound really happy — or sad — about that,” is often enough to make someone feel genuinely met.

As you listen to the important people in your life, give very brief summaries of the experiences they are talking about, and name the want or feeling that appears to be at the heart of the experience:

“So, you were really happy about that…”

“So, you drove all the way over there and they didn’t have the part they promised you on the phone. What a let-down.”

“Sounds like you wanted a big change in that situation…”

“Oh, no! Your dog got run over. You must be feeling really terrible…”

The point here is to empathize, not to give advice. If you added to that last statement, “That total SLOB of a driver!!! You should sue them! People REALLY need to pay for their mistakes —” you would be taking over the conversation and leading the person away from their own feelings and toward your reactions. The ear that listens without hijacking the conversation is a rare and precious gift.

As a general rule, do not just repeat another person’s exact words. Summarize their experience in your own words. But in cases where people actually scream or shout something, sometimes you may want to repeat a few of their exact words in a quiet tone of voice to let them know that you have heard it just as they said it.

If the emotion is unclear, make a tentative guess: “So it sounds like maybe you were a little unhappy about all that…” The speaker will usually correct your guess if it needs correcting — and that correction is itself a step forward in the conversation.

Listening is an art and there are very few fixed rules. Pay attention to whether the person speaking accepts your summary by saying things such as “yeah!”, “you got it,” “that’s right,” and similar responses. These small signals tell you whether your listening is being received as accurate.

If you can identify with the feeling the other person is experiencing, then in your tone of voice — as you summarize what your conversation partner is going through — you can express a little of the feeling they are expressing. (My experience is that this only works if you actually feel some of what the speaker is feeling.)  If you can’t identify with any of the feelings the other person is experiencing, it would probably be better to take a time out.  We all have our limits, and we can’t manufacture feelings on demand.  Summaries given in an emotionally flat tone of voice can feel very strange, distant, and not supportive at all, like a voicemail message telling you that “you have four saved messages,” rather than a real response from a real person.

Such compassionate listening is a powerful resource for navigating through life, and it also makes significant demands on us as listeners. We may need to learn how to hold our own ground while we restate someone else’s position — that takes practice. We also have to be able to listen to people’s criticisms or complaints without becoming disoriented or totally losing our sense of self-worth. That requires cultivating a deeper sense of self-worth, which is no small project. In spite of these difficulties, the results of compassionate, responsive listening have been so rewarding in my life that I have found it to be worth all the effort required.

1.7 How Listening Becomes Character

In Challenge Seven, we will explore in depth how the adverbs of our conversations become the adjectives of our character. But it’s worth pausing here to name that connection, because it transforms what you are doing when you practice the skill described in this chapter.

When you listen attentively — pausing, reflecting back, genuinely trying to understand — you are not just executing a technique. You are, in that moment, being an attentive person. When you listen compassionately to someone in distress, resisting the urge to fix or redirect, you are being a compassionate person. Do this often enough, and you will not merely become a more skilled listener. You will become someone your conversation partners seek out — because being with you, they feel less alone and more understood.

This also reframes the awkwardness you may feel when you first practice these techniques. That awkwardness is not evidence that you are “naturally a bad listener.” It is simply the feeling of a beginner on an infinite staircase. Every accomplished listener you have ever admired started exactly where you are now. Untrained is a condition that responds to practice. That is as true for listening as it is for any other skill.

1.8 Listening Inward: A Preview

Everything we’ve explored so far in this chapter has been about listening to someone else — a partner, a child, a colleague, a first officer in a cockpit. But there is another direction that listening can turn, and it may be the most surprising one: inward.

Many of us are better listeners to our friends than we are to our own inner experience. We can sense when a colleague is frustrated or a child is afraid, but we go for days without pausing to ask ourselves: What am I actually feeling right now? What do I need? What am I hoping for? When we don’t listen to ourselves, we arrive in important conversations without knowing what we want to say — because we haven’t yet heard what’s going on inside us.

In Challenge Three, we’ll explore a practical framework — the Five I-Messages — that gives you a map of your own inner landscape: what you’re observing, what you’re feeling, why you’re feeling it, what you want, and what good outcome you’re hoping for. That framework was designed to help you express yourself more clearly to others. But it is also, I’ve come to believe, one of the most powerful tools available for listening to yourself — for bringing the same empathy and compassion to your own experience that this chapter asks you to bring to the experience of others.

Think of it this way. The responsive listening you’ve been practicing in this chapter asks you to pause and reflect back what another person is experiencing. Self-listening asks you to do the same thing for yourself: What am I observing right now? What am I feeling? What need is driving that feeling? These are not different skills. They are the same skill, aimed in two directions. And each one strengthens the other — the better you listen to yourself, the more grounded and present you become when you listen to someone else.

We’ll return to this idea in depth when we reach the Five I-Messages. For now, it’s enough to plant the seed: the listening ear that this chapter is helping you develop is not only a gift you offer to others. It is also a gift you can learn to offer to yourself.

1.9 What Lies Ahead: Listening as the Foundation

The six challenges that follow this one — on self-expression, explaining conversational intent, translating complaints into requests, asking open-ended questions, expressing appreciation, and embracing continuous learning — all depend on the foundation you’re building here. You cannot express yourself well to someone who has never been listened to. You cannot ask a good question without first genuinely wanting to hear the answer. The other skills grow more naturally the more deeply the listening skill takes root.

And as we previewed in the previous section, listening has an inward face as well as an outward one. When you reach Challenge Three, you’ll discover that the Five I-Messages are not only a framework for expressing yourself more clearly — they are also a framework for hearing yourself more honestly. The empathy and compassion you are learning to bring to others in this chapter will become, in Challenge Three, a practice you can bring to your own inner life as well.

As you practice listening more carefully, you will probably find that your conversation partners begin to listen more carefully in return. This is one of those rare cases where the more you give, the more you receive — not because people are keeping score, but because being genuinely heard tends to lower people’s defensiveness and open their attention. The quality of both sides of the conversation rises together.

You are already, in a deeply important sense, a listening teacher to the people around you. Every time you put the phone down and turn toward someone who is speaking, you are demonstrating to everyone present that full presence is possible. That is a lesson worth teaching. And it begins with this: listen first.

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1.10 Challenge One — Exercise 1:

Active Listening Practice

Find a practice partner. Take turns telling events from your lives. As you listen to your practice partner, sum up their overall experience and feelings in brief responses during the telling. After each exchange, ask your partner: “Did I get that right? Is there anything important I missed?”

Your notes on this exercise:

1.11 Challenge One — Exercise 2:

Learning from the Past with the Tools of the Present

Think of one or more conversations in your life that went badly. Imagine how those conversations might have gone better with more responsive listening. Write down your alternative version of the conversation. In class or group exercise settings, explore these possibilities with your exercise partner(s).

Your notes on this exercise:

Your Notes on the Listening Chapter Readings

How would you apply these ideas in your own life?

 

 

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Reading 1-1 — Zebra!

Psychologist John Gottman describes his discovery that empathic listening really works:

I remember the day I first discovered how Emotion Coaching — my approach to empathic listening — might work with my own daughter, Moriah. She was two at the time and we were on a cross-country flight home after visiting with relatives. Bored, tired, and cranky, Moriah asked me for Zebra, her favorite stuffed animal. Unfortunately, we had absentmindedly packed the well-worn critter in a suitcase that was checked at the baggage counter.

“I’m sorry, honey, but we can’t get Zebra right now. He’s in the big suitcase in another part of the airplane,” I explained.

“I want Zebra,” she whined pitifully.

“I know, sweetheart. But Zebra isn’t here. He’s in the baggage compartment underneath the plane and Daddy can’t get him until we get off the plane. I’m sorry.”

“I want Zebra! I want Zebra!” she moaned again. Then she started to cry.

By now I was getting “do something” looks from the passengers, from the flight attendants, from my wife seated across the aisle. I looked at Moriah’s face, red with anger, and imagined how frustrated she must feel. Then it dawned on me: I couldn’t get Zebra, but I could offer her the next best thing — a father’s comfort.

“You wish you had Zebra now,” I said to her.

“Yeah,” she said sadly.

“And you’re angry because we can’t get him for you.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re tired now, and smelling Zebra and cuddling with him would feel real good. I wish we had Zebra here so you could hold him.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, watching the tension leave her face.

She rested her head against the back of her safety seat. She continued to complain softly a few more times, but she was growing calmer. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

Although Moriah was just two years old, she clearly knew what she wanted — her Zebra. Once she began to realize that getting it wasn’t possible, she wasn’t interested in my excuses, my arguments, or my diversions. My validation, however, was another matter. Finding out that I understood how she felt seemed to make her feel better. For me, it was a memorable testament to the power of empathy.

From The Heart of Parenting: How to Raise an Emotionally Intelligent Child, by John M. Gottman with Joan DeClaire. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1997, pp. 69–70.

 

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Reading 1-2 — Empathic Listening: Lessons from an Airline Accident

By Dennis Rivers, MA, with the assistance of Claude.AI. (March 2026 revision)

On a snowy afternoon in Washington, D.C., on January 13, 1982, Air Florida Flight 90 crashed into the 14th Street Bridge, plunging into the icy Potomac River. This tragic accident, which claimed the lives of 78 people, serves as a stark reminder of the critical importance of effective communication and empathic listening, especially in high-stakes situations.

The Fatal Flight

As the Boeing 737 prepared for takeoff from Washington National Airport, the weather conditions were far from ideal. A snowstorm had closed the airport earlier that day, and even after reopening, a moderate snowfall continued with temperatures hovering around 24°F (-4°C). These challenging conditions set the stage for a series of communication failures that would ultimately lead to disaster.

The cockpit voice recorder reveals a chilling conversation between Captain Larry Wheaton and First Officer Roger Pettit. As they went through their pre-flight checklist, a critical error occurred:

First Officer: “Engine anti-ice?”

Captain: “Off.”

This brief exchange highlights a fundamental breakdown in communication. The first officer, following procedure, asked about the engine anti-ice system. The captain’s response, while clear, was fatally incorrect. In icy conditions, this system should have been activated to prevent ice buildup on crucial engine components. The first officer, perhaps out of excessive deference to his superior officer, does not stop to question the captain’s wrong answer. Each of them made a serious mistake at that moment. We will never know all the factors at play in this situation, but the size of the tragedy that followed galvanized an effort to create communication procedures that would prevent this kind of mistake.

Ignored Warnings

As the plane began its takeoff roll, the first officer noticed several anomalies in the instrument readings. The transcript of the cockpit voice recorder paints a picture of growing concern:

First Officer: “God, look at that thing. That don’t seem right, does it? Ah, that’s not right.”

Captain: “Yes it is, there’s eighty.”

First Officer: “Naw, I don’t think that’s right. Ah, maybe it is.”

Captain: “Hundred and twenty.”

First Officer: “I don’t know.”

This exchange reveals a critical failure in empathic listening. The first officer repeatedly expressed his doubts about the instrument readings, but the captain dismissed these concerns without truly acknowledging or exploring them. This lack of responsive listening meant that vital information was ignored, and an opportunity to abort the takeoff was missed.

The Consequences of Poor Communication

The result of these communication failures, in combination with the failure to follow regulation de-icing procedures, was catastrophic. The plane, struggling with ice-laden wings and insufficient engine power, barely became airborne before crashing into the 14th Street Bridge and plunging into the Potomac River. The NTSB (National Transportation Safety Board) investigation concluded that the probable cause of the accident included “the flight crew’s failure to use engine anti-ice during ground operation and takeoff, their decision to take off with snow/ice on the airfoil surfaces of the aircraft, and the captain’s failure to reject the takeoff during the early stage when his attention was called to anomalous engine instrument readings.”

The Importance of Empathic Listening

This tragedy underscores the vital importance of empathic and responsive listening, especially in high-pressure situations. Empathic listening goes beyond merely hearing words; it involves actively seeking to understand the speaker’s perspective, acknowledging their concerns, and responding in a way that shows true comprehension.

In the case of Flight 90, if the captain had practiced empathic listening, he might have responded differently to the first officer’s concerns. Instead of dismissing them, he could have acknowledged the observations and explored them further. For example:

First Officer: “God, look at that thing. That don’t seem right, does it?”

Captain: “I hear you see a bad reading. What’s our next step?”

This type of response would have opened up a dialogue, potentially leading to a more thorough examination of the instruments and possibly a decision to abort the takeoff. The practice of empathic listening could have created a cockpit environment where both pilots felt empowered to express and explore their concerns fully.

Five Lessons from a Tragedy

The Air Florida Flight 90 disaster led to significant changes in pilot training, with a greater emphasis on crew resource management and improved communication within the cockpit. But the lessons from this tragedy extend far beyond the aviation industry. They teach us about the power of empathic listening in all aspects of our lives.

Acknowledge and validate concerns: When someone expresses worry or doubt, take the time to acknowledge their feelings and explore their perspective. This doesn’t mean you have to agree, but it shows respect and opens the door for deeper understanding.

Create an environment of open communication: Foster a culture where all team members feel comfortable expressing their thoughts and concerns without fear of dismissal or ridicule.

Practice active listening: Pay full attention to the speaker, ask clarifying questions, and summarize what you’ve heard to ensure understanding.

Set aside hierarchy when safety is at stake: In critical situations, valuable input can come from anyone, regardless of their position or rank.

Encourage questioning of assumptions: Create an environment where it’s not only acceptable but also encouraged to question procedures and challenge assumptions when something doesn’t seem right.

A Difficult but Life-Saving Lesson

The 78 lives lost in the crash of Air Florida Flight 90 offer us a difficult but profoundly important lesson. Every challenging human encounter, whether in a cockpit, a boardroom, or a family dinner table, carries with it the potential for misunderstanding and conflict. But it also presents an opportunity for connection, understanding, and potentially life-changing (or life-saving) communication.

In our daily lives, when faced with disagreements or conflicts, we can pause and ask ourselves: “Am I truly listening? Am I seeking to understand, not just to respond?” By doing so, we not only improve our relationships and decision-making but also potentially prevent disasters both large and small.

References for this reading:

“Air Florida Flight 90.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Air_Florida_Flight_90.

National Transportation Safety Board. “Aircraft Accident Report: Air Florida, Inc., Boeing 737-222, N62AF, Collision with 14th Street Bridge Near Washington National Airport, Washington, D.C., January 13, 1982.” NTSB-AAR-82-8, 1982.

 

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Suggestions for More Reading and Research on the Topic of Listening

Tell Me More, an essay by Brenda Ueland, explores the transformative power of listening to friends and family members.

Compassionate Listening: An Exploratory Sourcebook About Conflict Transformation, by Gene Knudsen Hoffman (1919–2010). Hoffman was both a Quaker peace activist and a pastoral counselor. In the course of her lifetime she took the practice of compassionate listening out of the quiet environs of the Quaker meeting house, out from behind the closed doors of counseling sessions, and on to the stage of the world’s greatest conflicts. Her many peacemaking journeys during her lifetime made her a legend in the peacemaking community.

 

References and Recommended Reading for This Chapter

Please note: Because the chapters of this workbook are often distributed as separate study documents, a reference to a given book or article will appear in every chapter where it may be needed.

Edmondson, Amy C. The Fearless Organization: Creating Psychological Safety in the Workplace for Learning, Innovation, and Growth. Wiley, 2019.

Gottman, John M., with Joan DeClaire. The Heart of Parenting: How to Raise an Emotionally Intelligent Child. Simon & Schuster, 1997.

Hoffman, Gene Knudsen, Cynthia Monroe, and Leah Green. Compassionate Listening: An Exploratory Sourcebook. New Conversations Initiative, n.d. https://communication-skills.net/pdf/compassionate_listening.pdf.

Rogers, Carl R. Client-Centered Therapy: Its Current Practice, Implications, and Theory. Houghton Mifflin, 1951.

Rogers, Carl R. On Becoming a Person: A Therapist’s View of Psychotherapy. Houghton Mifflin, 1961.

Rosenberg, Marshall B. Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life. 3rd ed., PuddleDancer Press, 2015.

Tannen, Deborah. The Argument Culture: Moving from Debate to Dialogue. Random House, 1998.

Ueland, Brenda. “Tell Me More.” Ladies’ Home Journal, Nov. 1941. Reprinted at http://communication-skills.net/library/Tell_Me_More.pdf.