I met Sandra and Peter on a dive boat last month in Thailand. I spent all day with them together with the dive guide (Frank, from France). We did three dives that day.

Now, after spending a whole day together and doing some fairly challenging dives; the only thing I know about them is that they are German and that Peter once visited Japan on business.

Meeting Sandra and Peter reminded me of the time I once climbed a mountain in Crete, the beautiful long island at the very southern edge of Greece.

Mostly it was steep hiking, some scrambling and near the summit some climbing. From the summit to the south I could see The Sea of Libya stretching out towards North Africa. To the north The Mediterranean Sea leading back the European mainland. Beneath me the beautiful
Samara Gorge; green with pine and cypress and silent but for the occasional dull clang of a goat’s bell. And all around the stunning peaks of Crete’s White Mountains. Everywhere there was the scent
of pine, rosemary and dry heat.

I returned to my car in the early evening. The small carpark was empty and standing next to the decayed wooden post that was a bus stop were two men. They were German and they had missed the last bus back to Xania; the town where, as it turned out, we were all staying. Luckily for them I was late back from my hike and I was intending to drive back to Xania.

Had they not met me they would have had to spend the night on a very cold, exposed carpark around 1000 metres above sea level with no accommodation or shelter within easy walking distance.

I offered them a lift back to Xania, they accepted and off we went.
I do not recall their names, what they did for work, what part of Germany they came from. In fact I recall nothing about them at all, other than the fact I drove them back to civilisation for two hours and we barely talked about anything. I tried to talk to them but their answers, if they answered at all, were usually one word efforts and they didn’t ask any questions in an attempt to get to know me. They didn’t even speak to each other in German. There was zero conversation, not even small talk about the weather, our holidays, family, football…

We arrived at the place I had said I would drop them off, they grabbed their things, got out of the car, thanked me and were gone.

And that is what I noticed about Sandra and Peter. They were lovely people, polite, considerate, seemingly happy but they didn’t really get involved in conversation. They were happy with silence, long, long silences.

As I said, I remember nothing at all about the two men I met in Crete all those years back and, I am sad to say I will probably remember nothing at all about Sandra and Peter in a month or so.

I will remember nothing because I found nothing out. I found nothing out because, just like the two men in Crete, it was near impossible to get them to talk.

If you want to be heard and, moreover, remembered you have to be prepared to join the conversation.

Think of a conversation as a car engine. You have to reach a destination using the engine — that destination could be to persuade, to reach agreement, to sell something (an idea, a product…) To reach the destination your engine needs fuel — in a conversation this equates to the facts, figures, arguments, opinions… but there is one element that is often overlooked; the thing that makes the engine run smoothly, stops the engine from overheating and seizing up — the oil.

In a conversation, be it social or business, ‘small talk’ is the oil.

Without small talk there will be no trust, no real understanding or meeting of minds because there will be no emotional connection from the outset. And worst of all, as the examples above illustrate, you will not be remembered for who you are — your character or personality will make no mark on the people you have spoken with.

The ability to ‘just chat’ comes into its own as breaking down barriers and connecting with people are the most important steps to begin building a relationship.

Initiating and sustaining small talk is something I am often asked to help with by clients, as most of my Japanese clients understand the norms for socialising are significantly different when socialising in an international context. Thankfully, there are plenty of strategies to
employ that help overcome this difficulty.

This interesting short film from The BBC talks about people who struggle with ‘small talk’ — in this case the Swedish but this could equally apply to The Germans, The Japanese or any other ‘reserved’, ‘inward-looking’ culture or for that matter anyone from any culture
who is somewhat introverted.

Do you recognise a little bit (or a lot) of yourself in the short situational clips?

I suspect most of us will do to some extent.

‘It is not where you take things from. It is where you take them to.’
Said French film director Jean Lac Goddard.

Picasso was more direct when he told us ‘great artists steal.’

To read the full Dispatch click on the image below.

A perfect example of the principle of stealing and taking things to a new level is Robert Glasper’s cover of the beautiful Radiohead song ‘Reckoner’. Now you may or may not like Radiohead; I have some good friends who are serious (professional) musicians and they can’t abide Radiohead — it is something we can never agree on. However, I challenge anyone to dislike what Glasper has done to this song (well anyone but the most fanatical of Radiohead fans).

I included the above because it illustrates Goddard’s and Picasso’s points about taking things or stealing and I also wanted to introduce (for those of you who don’t already know him) Robert Glasper. He has just released a new album, which is quite something and quite a deviation from his usual style. He has built a name for himself as a brilliant jazz pianist who also experiments with Hip Hop, R & B and occasionally covers somewhat un-jazz-like bands like Nirvana and, of course, Radiohead. His latest offering however has been put together in response to listeners telling him that they often listen to his music
whilst meditating or practising yoga.

His answer has been to write an album called ‘Letting Go’ which is described as ‘a project he created in partnership with Apple Music
with the express intention of helping listeners recalibrate mentally’.

Now that is the kind of thing I would advise any client never to say in a presentation as firstly, it sounds very pretentious and secondly Apple Music is a streaming platform that already makes most of his recordings available so unless they helped him write or produce the music I think ‘created in partnership’ is a little disingenuous on Apple’s part 
(of course Apple probably wrote that).

However, I mentioned last month that I have a soft spot for atmospherics and it should be obvious by now for jazz, as well. Probably not so obvious are my soft spots for yoga and mediation and I can confirm the album is a wonderful accompaniment to yoga practice — I am not so sure about meditation where I would much prefer something like Jon Hopkin’s ‘Music for Psychedelic Therapy’ or ‘Meditations’ — look them up if you want sounds to drift away to.

If you subscribe to Apple Music you can hear ‘Letting Go’ here

The first track is the only track with vocals — courtesy of Meshell Ndegeocello, vocalist, song-writer and bassist extraordinaire — a long time favourite of mine; who incidentally I should probably write a Brief about.

The track is aptly called ‘Breathing Underwater’.

Sadly I’ll never get the chance to recommend it to Sandra and Peter.

Nicholas Raistrick | Communication Strategist, LABtokyo

Nicholas founded LABtokyo 10 years ago with the express commitment to helping people communicate to their highest potential.

We work with private individuals and corporate groups by delivering training and coaching programmes specifically designed to enhance all facets of interpersonal communication.

If you are interested in learning more please write to us here or check our website at labtokyo.com.

We are always more than happy to hear from you.