Articles

  • Saying “You’re Wrong” Doesn’t Work

    Whether you’re giving a presentation or having a conversation, even when you’re convinced the other person is mistaken, telling them outright — “No, you’re wrong about this!” — does nothing to bring them closer to agreeing with you.

    Why doesn’t it work? Because even if you manage to talk someone into your point of view through sheer persistence and effort, a feeling will linger inside them: “I’ve been looking at this the wrong way all along.” And as you can imagine, most of us don’t want to be left feeling that way.

    When we tell someone they’re wrong, no one responds with “Oh, okay, let me look at it from that angle.” They go straight into defense mode. The moment you use that word, you stop being someone defending a viewpoint and become someone attacking their identity, their sense of self.

    So even when you know the other person is mistaken in that moment, instead of stating it outright, you can first find common ground with them, then invite them to see things from your perspective. What you want them to think is something like: “As the listener, I was seeing this differently, but the perspective you’ve shared seems more accurate.” Notice there’s no humiliation in that thought, no sense of having made a mistake. That makes it far easier for someone to land on than “Oh no, I was wrong.”

    To get there, you can make small adjustments to the sentences you use. For instance, instead of telling someone directly “Your approach is wrong,” you could say: “This approach worked up to a point. But once we scale it up, it starts making things harder for us.” There’s nothing in that phrasing that puts the other person on the defensive.

    Or instead of telling people directly that they’re wrong, you can talk about how circumstances have changed, how the data has been updated, how the dynamics this year are a bit different. In a presentation, for example, you might say: “This method was right last year, but this year the same method is driving our costs up, so we need to update it.”

    Notice there’s nothing in that statement about the person themselves or how they think. No accusation aimed at them. So as long as the data backs it up, there’s no reason left for the other person to feel they need to defend themselves.

  • Why Listening to Your Own Voice Feels So Uncomfortable

    One of the most common pieces of preparation advice you hear before an important talk is: record yourself rehearsing and listen back. I give this advice constantly in my trainings — but I’ll admit, it took me an entire generation to make peace with this step myself.

    Because minutes after finishing your own recorded speech, the first reaction is almost always something like:

    • “Who is that talking? Is that me?!”
    • “Does that voice actually belong to me?”
    • “Someone messed with the playback settings!”

    And these existential questions are followed by a series of cold showers:

    • Yes, that’s you (cold shower).
    • Yes, that voice really is yours (colder shower).
    • No, nobody touched the settings. That’s exactly how the entire world hears you (ice-cold shower!).

    Sometimes the jolt is so strong that you catch yourself wondering, “Maybe I should just never speak again?”

    Don’t worry, you’re not alone. So why does hearing our own voice feel so bad?

    It comes down entirely to how our brain perceives our own voice. When we speak, we hear ourselves through two different channels:

    • Bone conduction: the vibrations from our vocal cords travel through our jawbone and skull straight to our inner ear. This sound is richer and fuller. It feels closer to us than any other sound.
    • Air conduction: part of the sound leaving our mouth travels through the air and enters through our outer ear before reaching the inner ear. This is the voice everyone else hears.

    But when we listen to a recording, we only hear the air-conducted version. Our own voice sounds thinner, higher-pitched, even a bit feeble and unfamiliar to us. And our brain’s reaction is essentially, “Wait, who is this?”

    This reaction isn’t just physiological — it’s psychological too.

    According to a 2013 study, hearing our voice this way, like a stranger’s, clashes with our own sense of self. The brain signaling “this voice isn’t mine” creates an internal perceptual conflict. I’ve seen just how strong this conflict can be in some of my trainings, watching participants instinctively cover their ears the moment they hear their own recorded voice.

    Despite all this discomfort, I still recommend recording and listening to yourself while rehearsing before an important talk or presentation. Because it offers real advantages you simply can’t get any other way:

    1. Objective awareness: thought you didn’t say “um,” “uh,” or “you know” that often? Let’s see if your recording agrees with you… You’ll also notice if you’re speaking in a monotone or swallowing words when you talk too fast — and once you notice, you can actually fix it.
    2. Effective delivery: diction, emphasis, intonation — you can only really analyze these once you hear yourself from the outside. These are critical factors in how persuasive your delivery is.
    3. Reduced performance anxiety: over time you get used to your own voice, and that familiarity relaxes you. This makes you sound more natural and fluent while speaking, and ultimately more confident.

    But…

    Don’t go diving headfirst into recording yourself just because of these benefits.

    Before you start using this method — which I can almost guarantee will feel uncomfortable — here are three pieces of advice:

    1. Focus: in your first recordings, concentrate only on technical mistakes. Don’t focus on the tone of your voice — focus on the words you’re using and the content of your talk.
    2. Kindness: be gentle with yourself while listening, and remember this is a tool for growth, not self-judgment.
    3. Consistency: I really do understand how hard this is, because listening to my own voice was genuinely difficult for me at one point too. But repetition builds familiarity, and over time our brain reacts much less to sounds it has grown used to. So yes — there’s light (and sound) at the end of the tunnel!