Tara and I were recently laughing with some friends about a strange phenomenon that exists in American conversations. There are plenty, of course, but I'm talking specifically about the "Yeah, no," "No, yeah" thing that we all unconsciously do when we're conversing.
No, it's not just Californians or Miami natives as the memes suggest. It's all of us.
On one hand, this is an amusing artifact of speech, much like the "ums" or the "you knows" that proliferate within our conversations (though grammarians might twitch a little bit when we hear other people speaking this way, or realize that we ourselves are doing it!). To some degree, these habits are just sentence filler. We don't know what to say, so we say something to keep the conversation from lapsing into awkward breaks of silence while we connect thoughts together.
On the other hand, I think there's something fascinatingly complex about this "nervous tick" of language that we all employ. It has everything to do with a zealous and ingrained sensitivity to the ways we relate to others.
"Yeah... No."
TRANSLATION: The answer is no, but I understand where you're coming from and affirm that perspective as a logical, reasoned, and perfectly appropriate way to think. I in no way intend to convey, by my opposite perspective, that you are in any way to doubt your own position or feel insecure in holding that perspective. However, I am going to present my alternate point of view.
"No, yeah!"
TRANSLATION: The answer is yes, but let me begin by diffusing any possibility that you might think I disapprove of or disagree with your opinion, which you are perfectly entitled to hold. I in no way want to misconstrue your original idea or present it as something negative or inferior to my own. The fact that I am about to supplement your idea with my own thought should not in any way be taken as an argument.
Doesn't that sound like legal jargon to you -- the fine print at the bottom of a bill of sale, or the preface to your tax return agreement? Ironically, while we are saying a whole lot with very little, we're also doing exactly what all legal documentation does: expressing a simple idea in complex and nuanced language to prevent all possibility of the message being misrepresented.
And in doing so, we of course make it far more confusing than it needs to be.
Americans are in the business of affirming and apologizing. Even if we are going to unabashedly speak our minds, we're still -- at least in word -- "letting the other guy down easy." You and I are products of a culture that thinks with the heart it brazenly wears on its sleeve, yet dresses in incredibly thin skin. We sense the danger in our balancing act of fitting in with our society yet standing out in some way -- a practice amplified to such degrees by the modern, social media lifestyle that it is far easier to retreat to the safety of a 5-inch screen for "real" interaction than it is to hold face-to-face conversation. We are unabashedly who we are on Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat, but when it comes to in-person interaction, we timorously distance ourselves from the possibility of conflict.
"No, yeah"/"Yeah, no" is pacifying language. It's verbally tiptoeing around the feelings and sensibilities of others.
I think we've reached a point in our tolerance-based culture where we are in a constant apologetic state. We apologize for asserting ourselves, for taking our turns, for expressing our opinions. We are terrified of being seen as bigots when it comes to our religious and social views, and so we are incapable of even disagreeing on sandwich preferences without being neurotically apologetic.
That said, I'm still torn on whether or not to label the mentality behind this as completely negative, because I think it's of the utmost importance for us to know how to be sensitive and thoughtful toward other human beings. There's no point for Christians to argue the sanctity of life from the Bible if we are just going to treat one another like garbage. Maybe this quirky habit of language can help communicate our underlying concern for other people's sensitivity.
After all, Paul's epistles are chock full of commentary on the ways in which Christians are to go out of their way to be kind and edifying (Eph 4.29; Col 4.6); to live in harmony with believer and non-believer alike, despite the inevitable differences of opinion that arise between all human beings (Rom 12.18); and to surrender our own preferences on peripheral issues in order to preserve unity within the body of Christ (Rom 14.13; 1 Cor 8.13). If it's truly important from a Biblical standpoint to prioritize the needs of others (John 13.34; Phil 2.4), then gentle, nuanced, and understanding communication with others is key.
Here's my concern, however. All believers still need to prioritize integrity and honesty, speaking unabashed truth tempered with loving compassion (Eph 4.15; Titus 2.8). Just because the world in which we live doesn't want to hear our message doesn't mean we should swallow it and keep it to ourselves. We certainly shouldn't be characterized by arrogant, in-your-face condemnation. But we also shouldn't be characterized by the kind of hesitancy that is born out of fearing to challenge others' perspectives.
Affirmations and apologies (in this context) are petty and largely self-interested.
"No, yeah" -- TRANSLATION: I affirm you so you, in turn, will affirm me.
"Yeah, no" -- TRANSLATION: I affirm you so you don't get angry with me for saying what I really think.
In other words, let's avoid conflict at all cost and just give each other shots of validation. Let's bring the "live and let live" philosophy of tolerance to its only logical conclusion: isolationism, because tolerance can really only result in uniformity, and uniformity -- while equalizing -- is deeply alienating. The only other alternative is to crush others' individuality with our own and even more dramatically expose the inherent paradox in the coexist philosophy: insisting on my right to think and speak a certain way when it conflicts with another individual's right to think another way means I'm just as intolerant as I claim the other guy is. Rather than reveal this structural flaw, we hunker down behind barricades of disarming language, affirming and apologizing so none of the landmines ever go off.
I don't want to spend the rest of my life ducking disagreements in everyday conversation. I intend to be a peacemaker, sure -- whether speaking in-person or commenting back on Facebook. But being a peacemaker and being a pacifist are two entirely different things. I want to speak truth boldly to my neighbor, communicating from my heart with kindness and concern, yet seeking even in disagreement to be respectful and understanding and non-confrontational.
So am I using "No, yeah"/"Yeah, no" in my speech because I'm attempting to be considerate, or am I just being a conversational pacifist? Being conscious of the habitual ways in which we speak to others, and intentionally working toward communicating with clear purpose, can only improve our ability to relate to those around us as we communicate the vital gospel of Jesus Christ to lost and needy people.
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