You look up. People are just watching you, or they're idly adjusting their cards or notepads and pencils. "Anyone?" One or two shake their heads. So you repeat it: Mustard, Pipe, Conservatory. "Nope." You ask the last person. "Jason?" He shakes his head. "Got nothin." There's a vaguely concerned air.*
Nobody ever, ever, ever comes right out and says, "I don't have any of those," glances around, surmises that you must be on to something, and congratulates you. "Nice work!" Absolutely never. You have to prod and repeat yourself. At best, someone will joke that you just won. Silence is the norm here.
I call it the Clue effect.
Sometimes in life when people can't address what you say, they push back with intensity. But that's easy to spot. Their logic doesn't make sense. They just think it does in the moment. On cursory analysis, it doesn't. On thorough analysis, it also doesn't. This is just how they're reacting. Rather than admitting the value of what you've said, or its possible value, or their lack of a good reply just this second, they basically vent.
But other times it isn't like that. Other times you just never get traction with a thought. It rolls right off, repeatedly. Like rain off a nice new raincoat.
You look up. No one's got a response.
It's like Clue.
Usually this slight impasse will come up in conversation as "shutting down" someone whose view we don't like, forcing them to splutter and go silent. But that's an overly simple reading of the meaning of no reply. The Clue effect, as I call it, is the situation where you feel as if silence means you might be on to something. And it's uncomfortable for you, the person who might have "shut someone down," partly because that could be entirely misleading. In Clue, someone could be cheating or not listening or forgetting they actually do have Colonel Mustard in their hand. Whoops! And in real life, there are a million reasons for no response.
Leaping to the conclusion that no response means we're right is a quick route to delusions. At the same time, if we are repeatedly ignored when we mention something, that can be extremely indicative, perhaps of a cultural or personal blind spot, or simply an unwillingness to confront an issue honestly. Often it's about that moment: "Now's not the time."
In our minds we often think someone's opinion ain't right, and we believe we could prove it in open discussion. But if we don't have that discussion, how do we know? It's so easy to look down on someone's foolishness, brush right by; meanwhile you're the one with the greater, more troubling misconception. A classic way to do this is to point to a flaw mentally without spending too long considering whether the flaw is superficial or deep.
If you think silence speaks volumes, I have a lot to say about that:
(A little joke...) No, see, silence emphasizes what's around it, but fails to carry its own message. Paradoxically, it does still give information. How can you read a communication without a message, you might ask? Ok! Excellent question and not asked enough! When you hear the wind in the leaves, is that a message? No... unless you're schizophrenic or having a religious experience, I suppose. It's information, though. What does it tell you? Not much, but also not zero. The air outside is not still, for example. Perhaps you don't want to wear a hat.
The fashion by which this empty string of no reply (in mathematics represented as ∅) gives definite information, but very different amounts to different observers in Clue, is reminiscent of the famous Monty Hall puzzle, which used to appear on the game show Let's Make a Deal (hosted by, not so surprisingly, Monty Hall). The situation on that broadcast stage has mired and fascinated viewers and even students of math ever since. I won't go into any more detail today, but a friend pointed out the connection after reading the above, and it's well worth noticing.
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* For those who've never played Clue, this means that as long as no one is cheating, Colonel Mustard is definitely the culprit... figuring out whodunit is 1/3 of winning. Interestingly, after the silence, everyone has info about the murder that they didn't have before. But it'll take the others some extra detective work to reach the same conclusion: the killer was definitely Colonel Mustard. So your move tells everyone something but tells you more: exactly one fact without ambiguity or wild geese. Each of your friends now has to chase three geese, metaphorically, to figure out which two are wild. Was the murder weapon the Lead Pipe that they don't know that you have in your pocket? Was the scene of the crime the Conservatory which they also don't know you have in your pocket? Nice bluff! Meanwhile you can focus on other things. Obviously no one is exactly thrilled, because they want to win themselves, and you just pulled ahead!
Usually this slight impasse will come up in conversation as "shutting down" someone whose view we don't like, forcing them to splutter and go silent. But that's an overly simple reading of the meaning of no reply. The Clue effect, as I call it, is the situation where you feel as if silence means you might be on to something. And it's uncomfortable for you, the person who might have "shut someone down," partly because that could be entirely misleading. In Clue, someone could be cheating or not listening or forgetting they actually do have Colonel Mustard in their hand. Whoops! And in real life, there are a million reasons for no response.
Leaping to the conclusion that no response means we're right is a quick route to delusions. At the same time, if we are repeatedly ignored when we mention something, that can be extremely indicative, perhaps of a cultural or personal blind spot, or simply an unwillingness to confront an issue honestly. Often it's about that moment: "Now's not the time."
In our minds we often think someone's opinion ain't right, and we believe we could prove it in open discussion. But if we don't have that discussion, how do we know? It's so easy to look down on someone's foolishness, brush right by; meanwhile you're the one with the greater, more troubling misconception. A classic way to do this is to point to a flaw mentally without spending too long considering whether the flaw is superficial or deep.
If you think silence speaks volumes, I have a lot to say about that:
(A little joke...) No, see, silence emphasizes what's around it, but fails to carry its own message. Paradoxically, it does still give information. How can you read a communication without a message, you might ask? Ok! Excellent question and not asked enough! When you hear the wind in the leaves, is that a message? No... unless you're schizophrenic or having a religious experience, I suppose. It's information, though. What does it tell you? Not much, but also not zero. The air outside is not still, for example. Perhaps you don't want to wear a hat.
The fashion by which this empty string of no reply (in mathematics represented as ∅) gives definite information, but very different amounts to different observers in Clue, is reminiscent of the famous Monty Hall puzzle, which used to appear on the game show Let's Make a Deal (hosted by, not so surprisingly, Monty Hall). The situation on that broadcast stage has mired and fascinated viewers and even students of math ever since. I won't go into any more detail today, but a friend pointed out the connection after reading the above, and it's well worth noticing.
-
* For those who've never played Clue, this means that as long as no one is cheating, Colonel Mustard is definitely the culprit... figuring out whodunit is 1/3 of winning. Interestingly, after the silence, everyone has info about the murder that they didn't have before. But it'll take the others some extra detective work to reach the same conclusion: the killer was definitely Colonel Mustard. So your move tells everyone something but tells you more: exactly one fact without ambiguity or wild geese. Each of your friends now has to chase three geese, metaphorically, to figure out which two are wild. Was the murder weapon the Lead Pipe that they don't know that you have in your pocket? Was the scene of the crime the Conservatory which they also don't know you have in your pocket? Nice bluff! Meanwhile you can focus on other things. Obviously no one is exactly thrilled, because they want to win themselves, and you just pulled ahead!
