Thankful for Golden Bridges
Some conversations are exceptionally difficult – even impossible. But Peter Boghossian and James Lindsay, authors of How to Have Impossible Conversations: A Very Practical Guide, helped me see that some don’t have to be impossible, but instead can be slow, deliberate, and humble. [1] The authors argue that if we can view ourselves as a conversation partner and build rapport, we are more likely to engage in a healthy conversation rather than a heated debate. They encourage their readers to assume good intent: “When you encounter a person with radically different beliefs, you might think they’re ignorant, crazy, or malicious. Resist this inclination and instead consider that they view issues from a different perspective or that they’re acting upon what they think is the best available information.” [2] If we can successfully engage in this way, we have a chance of actually having a conversation. If the goal is to have some influence or potentially help them see the world differently, this is absolutely foundational.
Boghossian and Lindsay offer a wealth of practical tips for influencing others in difficult conversations. To change a mindset, we also need to be willing to model genuine curiosity. As Schein and Schein express in their book Humble Leadership, Second Edition: The Power of Relationships, Openness, and Trust, there is something powerful about someone humble enough to listen and understand. [3] Whether in leadership within an organization or over dinner at a family holiday, humility opens doors to being influenced and earns the right to influence others.
While there are numerous points I could touch on, for the sake of this blog post, I’ll just touch on a few highlights that stood out to me. In the section on improving interventions, Boghossian and Lindsay challenge readers to “Build Golden Bridges: Find ways for your conversation partner to avoid social embarrassment if they change their mind”. [4]
A dear friend of mine, Kye came to the United States from Asia because her mother forced her to attend university here. Her grandfather had been a Buddhist monk, and she grew up offering rice and tea to her deceased ancestors. As a child in Asia, she had only met one Christian, and when her mother found out, she quickly ended that relationship.
When she moved to the United States, Kye didn’t know any English and had to immediately start university. Kye was blessed with a Christian roommate and a Christian professor who, together, led her to faith in Jesus. Not long after, she became engaged to her now-husband, who is also a Christian. When Kye told her family about her engagement and her faith in Jesus, they became estranged. The family refused to acknowledge the marriage or her new faith, would not attend the wedding, and Kye spent the next 20 years with little communication from her family. As with many marriages, and especially cross-cultural marriages, the honeymoon wore off, and marriage became very hard. There were moments when Kye wanted to call it quits and go home. In addition to marriage difficulties, she yearned to be among her family and her own people, to feel at home, to speak her native language, and to return to familiarity. But how could she? Her family had taken such a hard stance against her decisions; how could she come back now? The shame and embarrassment were too much to bear, so she never went home. About a month before Kye’s mother passed away, they finally reconciled. I wonder if Kye’s family would have responded differently if they had known about building golden bridges.
I’ve made many foolish decisions in my early adulthood. Filled with legalism and pride, self-righteousness was my nearest companion. While I’m sure this bothered my parents and they desired better things for me, they always built golden bridges. While they often didn’t agree with my ideology or decisions, they never made it hard for me to return to them. They were quite deliberate in giving me a way to change my mind without harsh treatment or humiliation.
Who has built a golden bridge for you?
References
[1] Edgar H. Schein and Peter A. Schein, Humble Leadership, Second Edition: The Power of Relationships, Openness, and Trust, Second Edition (Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2023).
[2] Ibid, 26.
[3] Peter G. Boghossian and James Lindsay, How to Have Impossible Conversations: A Very Practical Guide, First Hachette Go edition (Hachette Books, 2020).
[4] Boghossian and Lindsay, 71.
About the Author
Christy
3 responses to “Thankful for Golden Bridges”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Christy, thank you for sharing this. So glad Kye was able to have reconciliation. Also, your parents’ example was powerful in how they deliberately gave you a way back without shame. That kind of grace is rare. In your own leadership or relationships today, how do you intentionally practice “building golden bridges” for others who may feel far off?
Hi Christy,
In your experience, have you encountered good intent in a conversation with someone who holds radically different beliefs shift the emotional tone and potential outcome of the dialogue? How do you manage such encounters?
Hi Christy,
I appreciate you mentioning Golden Bridges—this technique stood out to me too. I used it recently in a faith conversation when a friend couldn’t answer a question. Instead of pressing, I told her that was okay and she could share next time. This put her at ease and allowed us to continue our conversation naturally.
As for someone building Golden Bridges with me, I can think of times when I’ve shared information in a group that turned out not to be accurate, and no one held it over my head. It wasn’t exactly an “impossible” conversation, but it could have been used against me. And if anyone else has ever done the same, I wouldn’t know—because they were kind enough not to point it out.
You mentioned legalism, pride, and self-righteousness. I can tell that’s not where you are now! What did the process of change look like for you, especially in how you relate to others?