How Japanese Always Manage To Say Yes

Of course Japanese say no, but the way they say no, it sounds like yes.

Recently, a good friend of mine in the States was having a terrible time with his boss. His boss was lazy, and kept putting all the responsibility of his projects on to my friend, while retaining his veto power.

Bad situation: trying to separate power from responsibility.

If things went south – guess who got the blame? I gave my friend a bit of advice out of the Japanese handbook. Here’s what you do…

“Just start saying yes to your boss.”

“But I don’t want to do his extra work!”

“I know. And you won’t. You’re not agreeing to do the extra work. Your just agreeing with your boss’ opinion.”

“huh?!”

“You just agree. When your boss gives you a new project you say – ‘Wow, I love that idea’ or ‘Hey! That’s something to think about’ or ‘Mary will be thrilled when I tell her’ – then you do nothing more. You go silent. You don’t promise anything.”

My friend was still puzzled: “But what happens when he asks me about it?”

“You just say – ‘OMG. You’re right! My bad. Sorry – there’s been so much on lately’ – and you still don’t say you’ll do anything, you just keep saying what a great idea it is.”

My friend started to do that. He started saying yes, yes, yes. And then he got on with whatever he wanted to do. He felt great, and his boss started to get really puzzled.

What happens when you’re on the other side of this approach?

Well, if you are not trained in dealing with people who say yes all the time (even when they mean no), it is very puzzling. Your opponent is all smiles and apology – what can you do?

Your every blow is absorbed – you can never seem to land a punch.

It’s like playing Aikido in conversation – no matter what you say, your partner absorbs the blow and throws it back on you. They agree, they apologise, they make no excuses. They say things like ‘I am a terrible person’ or ‘I am letting you down, I know.’ – and you end up agreeing with them!

But you still don’t control them. What happens next?

Well, it gets ugly. For YOU. Another Japan story…

I had a money order made out to Jeremy Chance, and my account name was Jeremy A. Chance. The bank refused to deposit my cheque, because the names didn’t match. Culturally, in Australia, banks wouldn’t care. In Japan, banks have to contend with the Yakuza mafia, resulting in incredibly tight regulations.

I didn’t understand all that – I just thought it was ridiculous. I mean – this is not even a Japanese name. How many Jeremy Chances are there with an account even in the whole of Japan? I decided I could win this battle…

Their technique was masterful. I ended up being the idiot in the room.

Because eventually I blew up. I got irritated, while they stayed calm. And then I looked foolish. Everyone turned to look at this loud and angry man. I became the ugly foreigner expressing his frustration in a bank. I was met with a long, embarrassed silence.

Nothing reflects the stupidity and ugliness of anger better than a humble silence.

How did they do it?

They wore me down. I’d ask a question, then they would give me a 10 minute reply. I’d try to interrupt, and would say “Wait a minute” and carry on talking. Finally, they would finish and look at me expectantly. (I was supposed to give up.)

Instead, I’d ask another question, request another approach. 5 minute lecture. Another question. Another lecture. Question. Lecture. As I got madder and more frustrated, he just got calmer and spoke longer. The closest he ever got to saying no was:

“It’s difficult” while tilting his head to the side.

***

There is a simple reason why this Japanese technique is so powerful – it is based on a universal truth that is universally misinterpreted.

Whenever you believe you can get another person to do what you want, you are living in a fantasy world. It’s a fantasy we all believe in – does the comedian makes us laugh? Does the leader make us follow? Does your touch make people change? No.

However, during my early training days in London, that was my belief. And I felt the same frustration that I felt in the bank – I couldn’t make my students change in the way I wanted them to change. Now I realise how wrong I was. Students change when they are ready to change, and not a second sooner.

It is never my job to change another person. My job is to change me.

And that is the brilliance of the Alexander turnaround – the only way for me to help you is to help me. I help me so that I can help you. And whether you change or not because of my words and touch – that’s your business.

I have no right to be using my hands to “try and change you.” That’s verging on emotional abuse.

And the reverse of this is also true – no-one changes you. When a thief steals your wallet, do you give them the credit for your emotional anger? Was it there fault?

This is the life of a victim, who no longer has the power to change. That is why the Japanese method of saying yes is so clever – based as it is on Buddhist teachings.

It clearly demonstrates that you don’t have any business trying to change others.

My job is to change me. Not you.