On the opposite extreme are those whose silence is marked by a sullenness or unexpressed anger. They exude an energy that suggests disagreement or resentment. Long ago, I heard someone describe resentment as your failure to honor a request that I never actually made. We can punish that perceived failure with the silent treatment. There is far different energy between the silence of deep reception in the first example and this silence of resentment; which I am calling the Silence that Separates.
The silent treatment can be more harming and violent than pure lashing out.[5] However, many see silence as taking the high road, or as Michelle Obama quipped during the 2017 presidential campaign, “When they go low, we go high.” It is a grand strategy that we argue is full of grace and dignity. But this approach can backfire when dealing with critical relationships. The silent treatment, even when brief, activates a part of the brain that detects physical pain. The psychological torture from ostracism can outlast a bodily injury. Regardless of the recipient’s personality or the sender’s status, the silent treatment can inflict a great deal of invisible bruising. Most in leadership would not last long if they (a) regularly said hateful things to their direct reports or (b) caused physical bruises on the bodies of their employees. Yet leaders tend to use silence or silent treatment as a powerful weapon against those who disagree or fail to meet expectations. Sometimes those expectations are spoken, and often they are not.
I once worked with a female leader who was a master of the silent treatment. My team members and I would whisper that it was just a matter of taking turns. There was always at least one of us on her list of disapproval. She would handle us in similar ways. She would sit next to us at meetings versus across the table as it allowed her to avoid eye contact. Once in her seat, she tilted her chair in the opposite direction, so all you got was the literal cold shoulder. I remember being on the tail end of her disapproval but unable to help myself when she came to a meeting wearing a suit that I thought was pretty incredible. I told her shoulder that she looked nice, and it appeared everyone heard the compliment. The head of the table, several chairs away from me, agreed and echoed my praise. However, she did not look my way or acknowledge me.
When leaders use the silent treatment, it can be argued that they are trying to maintain a separation. They want to isolate themselves as it gives them a sense of enhanced status. This is not that dissimilar to a person of privilege looking down their nose at someone less fortunate. To speak words is below them. And yet, this behavior can be psychologically annihilating to another.
We describe these people as arrogant, icing others out, snobbish, condescending, pompous, haughty, conceited, nose-is-in-the-air (hope it doesn’t rain)—you get the idea. When this behavior is demonstrated by a leader, there is an unspoken internal assumption. Their value is only maintained based on a sense of superiority. They have a (un)conscious belief system that to be worthwhile, they need to highlight the weakness in others. To show care or concern would mark them as vulnerable or drop their guard to an unacceptable level.
When we experience these behaviors from someone we are supposed to follow, there are several different things that can happen. Our first reaction is often surprise or shock, followed by angst and anger. We cannot seem to rationalize what just happened. We often move to a coping strategy of trying harder or showing a greater sense of compliance to feel re-accepted. If it works, we find ourselves behaving in more careful ways moving forward and often censoring voice or behaviors that could lead to repeated ostracism. If re-inclusion does not result from our overly cooperative action, we reach a place of resignation that can lead to alienation and feeling like we have no options.
Many of the women I interviewed for this research described the powerful ways in which non-verbal behavior from others caused immeasurable pain. A lack of eye contact, conversations going quiet when entering a room, mocking gestures, or feeling ignored for weeks on end were just a sample of things I heard expressed. These were silences that punished and isolated. Unfortunately, it is never quite clear how intentional the behavior is without the use of language.
As human beings, we do not need a lot of training to recognize the difference between the first example of receptive silence that is born from the desire to connect and the silence that is born in resentment or the need to isolate. Sometimes these silences are conscious and sometimes not. The first type of silence sends a message of love and acceptance. The second carries a message of exclusion. Yet, no words are used—just some simple “mms” or “ahs,” or slight shifts in the body. Silence is always full of meaning.
Between these two extreme categories, are many examples in between that fall into the category that I call the Silence that Confuses. Figure 1.1 demonstrates the spectrum.
Types of Silence
What is missing in these categories is the level of awareness we bring to each type. I can be raptly attentive to something and lose all track of time—it is unconscious. I can also, with a great deal of skill, choose to avoid something that has made me angry. In truth, every one of these examples of silence can be used to an advantage or disadvantage. It requires a level of intentionality.
Although we all know how it can stink when a leader consistently operates at the lowest level of (self-centered) listening, we have to recognize that this stance can be necessary. There’s no harm in listening in a self-centered way, especially when you find yourself in a new or frightening situation. When I am listening to a medical diagnosis, when I’ve just landed at a foreign airport, or when I am trying to itemize the water heater repair bill, I am not focused on anyone else. I have concern for myself. My questions and expressions will come from a place of self-interest or self-preservation. This is not a time for me to try to empathetically listen to the concerns of a physician, taxi driver, or repairman.
The problem is when leaders are not able to shift out of level one listening and consider what the other is saying. I would argue that leaders need to live primarily at level two listening—listen to understand and then with intention, shift to listening level one or three based on the conditions, people, and context of the situation.
However, when it comes to silence—staying too long in the silence that separates, or the silence that confuses, is dangerous. Ostracizing, giving the silent treatment, or avoiding are poor leadership moves if used with regularity. Although I would argue that when a leader uses them sparingly with good intention, they can be powerful.
Sometimes it is necessary to put distance between you and your peer group once you have been promoted to a leadership role. Other times, we need to do intentional isolation when we have an employee who is misbehaving. A little silent treatment to curb anger is not always a bad thing. We must have an awareness that we are choosing these behaviors. It is when we unconsciously engage in the silence that separates that can cause diminished leadership credibility and a lack of followers.
The problem with the silence that confuses is that it can rarely be interpreted without language. We do not need a roadmap to figure out the sting of the silence that separates. When I am icing out my husband for something that made me angry, he rarely wonders if my silence is a sign of agreement. Yeah, no, never! I imagine most of us are perceptive enough to know the silences that separate are born out of negative feelings and not neutral ones.
The neutral silences in the category of confusion are when we let someone else do the talking, and we sit quietly at the table. The others involved may not know if our silence is agreement or disagreement. It can go either way.
Another example of the silence that confuses is when leaders have personalities that allow them access to a great deal of emotional evenness (another ability I do not have). It can be difficult to know what their silence means because we do not observe a range of emotion between