靠近而非远离:与难缠之人对话的记者心法
我们身边总有一些人,他们的观点、态度或政治立场让你抓狂。作为拥有二十多年经验的广播记者,我曾与各种难缠的人打交道。最终我发现,主持这类艰难对话其实很简单——不是容易,但简单。诀窍在于去一个你宁愿不去的地方:更靠近对方。距离只会让事情变得更糟。
我早年受训于公共广播电台,老一辈记者传授给我“中立”的艺术:压抑个人观点,麻木情感,这样你就能在大多数对话中不翻白眼地熬过去。这通常有效,也为我赢得了公正的名声。但当话题触及个人时,中立就显得虚伪。我曾主持 NPR 的全国性谈话节目《1A》,早期有一期采访了一位南方邦联士兵的后代,他主张应历史性地保留邦联纪念碑。作为一名黑人,我深感必须保持中立的压力,于是决定只针对他的论点而非他本人。他的逻辑站不住脚,我当场指出,最终他放弃了,说:“我说什么其实都不重要。”那一刻,我知道我失败了。我或许占了理,却错失了一个真正履行本职的良机。我的中立让我能审问他的信念,但距离却让我看不到他为何相信这些。如果我当时问了更好的问题,比如“谁对你形成这些观点影响最大?”或者“假如我们让所有纪念碑和雕像都原样保留,这对你意味着什么?”,或许就能透过他那些陈词滥调看到背后的他。严加盘问改变不了任何事,毫无意义。
当你面对一个棘手的人时,有更好的处理方式,既能保持理智,甚至可能建立连接。这听起来很疯狂:靠近他。不是去拥抱,而是像医生研究样本一样去探究。你需要的是显微镜,而不是望远镜。其实,在成为记者之前,医生就教会了我这个道理。青少年时期,我参加了一个为未来医生设立的暑期项目,与研究癌症、血栓和 HIV 的临床医生共事。我曾天真地以为他们是斗志昂扬的科学家,但他们只是头脑冷静地做着自己的工作。这其中有值得学习的教训。对于世界上的“癌症”——偏见、谎言、政治暴力——我并非中立,我希望它们消失。但作为记者,我常常不得不在我的“诊室”(直播间)里处理它们。我靠尽可能贴近这些问题、像培养皿中的样本一样研究它们来生存。换句话说,我必须从中立转向客观。
不,它们不是一回事。客观(Objectivity)只是暂时搁置情绪,不带评判地去学习。我不必喜欢它,我只是来学习。而中立(Neutrality)则是否定你的观点,仿佛你没有判断力。在座各位真的相信我对种族问题没有看法吗?注意,我说的是“搁置”观点。就像停车一样,你不是把车遗弃在车库里,你还会回来取。所以,你可以选择何时向内关注自己的想法,或向外关注你能学到什么。当然,有时你的车不在原位,你的观点也可能改变。这种“可能”正是客观让人感到脆弱的原因,也正是它有效的原因。这种脆弱是开放的标志,而不开放的对话毫无意义。但如果你能保持开放,奇妙的事情就会发生。另一次在 NPR,我采访了一位前巴尔的摩警官,他已成为执法改革的激烈倡导者。他像自动驾驶一样长篇大论地发泄。我努力保持客观,尽力倾听,这时我似乎听到他的声音有一丝颤抖。在那颤抖中,我察觉到的不仅仅是愤怒,更像是创伤。于是,在采访接近尾声时,我犹豫地提到,他作为警察的经历似乎让他受到了创伤,他能否反思一下?他说:“我把比我更好的人送进了监狱。”哇。果然,他随即又回到了他的论点,但这不重要——在那一刻,他故事的那一瞥中,他的防御瓦解了,他从“正确”转向了“真实”。
看,有些人就是很难相处,但我们可以更简单地应对。这里有三个入门建议。第一,获取故事,尤其是关键决策和转折点。一个人相信什么,不如他如何选择去相信来得重要。第二,我的 NPR 主持人专业建议:问题要短,最多十秒。长问题会让人感觉像设局或你在漫无边际地闲聊。第三,使用那个心理显微镜,尽可能仔细地观察。记住,你不必喜欢它,但要从中学习。是时候重新连接,甚至与你无法忍受的人连接了,但这一次,我们要让这些连接有意义。你能从“傻瓜”身上学到很多,尤其是当你决心绝不像他们那样行事时。
Original English
Idiots are everywhere. Some people drive you right up the wall with their opinions, their attitudes, their politics. I dealt with all kinds of people in my 20-plus years as a broadcast journalist. Eventually, I found moderating tough conversations with whatever kind of difficult people you just thought of kind of simple to do. Not easy, but simple. The trick is to go somewhere I know you'd rather not be. Closer. Distance makes things worse.
I came up in public radio trained by old-school journalists who taught me the art of neutrality. You neutralize your opinions, deaden your emotions, and you can get through most conversations without rolling your eyes. Generally, it worked, and it built me a strong reputation for fairness. But, when the subject matter felt personal, neutrality felt phony. I used to host a national talk show on NPR called 1A, and in one of our early programs, I interviewed a descendant of Confederate soldiers. He argued that Confederate monuments should be historically preserved. Now, as a black man, I felt enormous pressure to remain neutral, so I decided I was just going to focus on his arguments instead of on him. His logic felt kind of flimsy, and I called him on it. And eventually, he just folded, and he said, "It really doesn't matter what I say." And the moment he said that, I knew I had failed. I may have had a point, but I missed a huge opportunity to really do my job. See, my neutrality allowed me to interrogate his beliefs, but the distance prevented me from seeing why he believed them. What if I'd asked better questions, like who influenced you the most in forming these views? Or suppose we let all of these monuments and statues stand just as they are. What would that mean to you? Getting his story might have shown me him behind his canned arguments. Grilling him changed nothing. It felt pointless.
When you consider someone problematic, there's a better way to deal with them, keep your sanity, and maybe even connect. And it sounds insane. Move closer. Not to embrace them, but to explore them like a doctor studying a sample. You need a microscope, not a telescope. Doctors actually helped me learn this way before I became a journalist. As a teenager, I was part of a summer program for future doctors. Clearly, it worked. And I found myself working with clinicians studying cancer and thrombosis and HIV, very serious conditions. I kind of naively expected them to be these crusading scientists, but they were just level-headed people doing their jobs. But there was a lesson in that level-headedness. See, I am not neutral about the cancers in our world, bigotry, hoaxes, political violence. I want them gone. However, as a journalist, I often had to deal with them in my clinic on the air. I survived it by getting as close to those problems as I could and studying them like samples in a Petri dish. In other words, I had to shift from neutrality to objectivity.
And no, they're not the same. Objectivity is just when you park your emotions and learn without judgment. I don't have to like it, I'm just here to learn from it. Neutrality negates your opinions as if you have no judgments. Does anyone here honestly believe I have no opinions on race? Right. Now, notice I said park your opinions. When you park your car, you don't abandon it in the garage, you're coming back for it. So, you can choose when to focus inward on what you think or outward on what you can learn. Of course, sometimes your car ain't where you left it. And maybe your opinions will move, too. That maybe is why objectivity feels so vulnerable. That's why it works. That vulnerability is a sign of openness, and a conversation that's not open is pointless. But, if you can stay open, amazing things can happen. Another time on NPR, was interviewing a former Baltimore police officer who had become this fiery advocate for law enforcement reform, and he was going on and on, just a long rant in autopilot, just And I was trying to stay objective and listening as best I could, when I thought I heard his voice waver just a little. And in that waver, I detected more than his rage. It sounded like trauma. So, near the end of the interview, I mentioned, hesitantly, that he seemed traumatized by his experiences as a cop, and could he reflect on that? He said, "I put people in prison cells who are better people than me." Whoa. Sure enough, he went right back to his talking points, but it didn't matter cuz in that moment, that sliver of his story, his defenses dropped, and he shifted from being right to being real.
Look, some people are just difficult, but we can deal with them more simply. Here are three tips to get you started. First, get the story, particularly the key decisions and the turning points. What someone believes is not as important as how they chose to believe it. Second, my NPR host pro tip, keep your questions short. 10 seconds tops. Long questions can feel like a setup or like you're rambling. And third, use that mental microscope. Look as closely as you can. Remember, you don't have to like it, but learn from it. It is time to reconnect even to the people you can't stand, but this time we're going to make those connections count. You could learn a lot from an idiot. Especially if you resolve never to act like one. I really appreciate y'all making time for me today. Thank you for listening. Bye, everybody.
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公司/组织: NPR