Needing To Know
A sudden impact occurred at my home today — the collision of two different ethics for telephone etiquette.
I was watching a DVD, waiting for my bf Buck to show up for dinner. When he did appear, cell phone in hand, he parked himself in the same room as me and continued to chat on the phone while I was trying to watch a show already in progress. Right away I saw a conflict: I wanted to hear the television, not his phone call; he wants to hear his phone call, not the TV (presumably). I was tempted to open the door to the room as a not-too-subtle hint that he take his call elsewhere. Unfortunately, I was aware that his cell phone has very poor reception in most rooms of the house. So I let him stay where the cell reception was apparently working for him. Instead, terminally polite guy that I am, I opted for a technological compromise: I muted the sound on the television, but turned on the subtitle option for the show so we both could continue our activities — me watching my disc and him continuing his conversation.
When he finally hung up, I asked him about it. Turns out we had been operating from entirely different assumptions. I have always believed that when you really need to interrupt others to take a call, the very least you can do is take the call in another room (where possible) so as not to extend the interruption any further into your company’s time or activities. And further, that you not expose them to probably unneeded, potentially unwanted, and completely irrelevant information by making them listen to your half of a conversation with someone else. Since they cannot (or are not expected to) participate in the conversation, you shouldn’t force them to be an unwilling audience.
Buck, however, was taught that to take a call away from present company is to slight them — to make them feel excluded or (worse) that they might be the object of your conversation.
In his family, one continues talking on the phone in the presence of others so everyone knows you are not gossiping about them behind their backs. Personally, I still find this point of view bizarre: If I choose to gossip about you, just staying in the room for one conversation is hardly going to spare you that ignominy. All it does is force you to listen to unwanted noise. But Buck would rather listen to my conversation (even if he only gets half of it), just so he can keep tabs on me.
In my ethical world, I am protecting Buck’s peace of mind whereas he is simply a busybody. In his world, I am making him feel excluded whereas he is showing interest in my life and conversations.
(I still think I’m right. Indeed, Info World columnist Dan Brody has listed something similar as number 1 on his Ten Commandments of Cell Phone Etiquette. See also “Don’t” number 2 on Microsoft’s 10 rules of cell phone etiquette.)
But the suggestion that Buck and I should play audience for all of each other's phone conversations got me thinking: In a relationship, how much privacy is allowed? And how much information is too much?
Some people assume that relationships mean sharing every little thought, feeling, and experience with one’s partner. In reality, of course, few life stories go complete unedited. And those who do insist on reporting each and every detail frequently leave us wishing for the Reader’s Digest version.
So where do you draw the line? The advice-dispensers over at AskMen.com suggest, reasonably, that there is no need to share information that has no bearing on the relationship. True enough. The problem comes when my idea of “need to know” conflicts with my partner’s.
And I guess that’s the point. If there is one topic that should not be kept secret in a relationship, it’s the subject of secrets themselves.
In my view, each partner needs to explain the kind of information he feels is important to share (or have shared with him) as well as the kind of information that he feels falls in the realm of personal privacy. For me, hypothetical examples are a good way of probing these areas (“If someone gropes me in the locker room, do you want to know about it?”). And it’s safe to say that it’s easier to deal with hypothetical situations early on when they are truly hypothetical — and not a smokescreen for something that has actually happened.
This kind of meta-talk won’t cover every situation of course. There may be times when I need to probe more or ask my partner to probe or volunteer less. This, in fact, happened near the beginning of our relationship, when my new bf was using his cell to send me regular text messages about daily activities. “I’m pooping,” beeped one message on my phone. I’m not as skilled at text message as he, but in this case my reply was a simple three letters:
TMI.
Just my thoughts.
Which you didn’t ask for.
Anyway…
I was watching a DVD, waiting for my bf Buck to show up for dinner. When he did appear, cell phone in hand, he parked himself in the same room as me and continued to chat on the phone while I was trying to watch a show already in progress. Right away I saw a conflict: I wanted to hear the television, not his phone call; he wants to hear his phone call, not the TV (presumably). I was tempted to open the door to the room as a not-too-subtle hint that he take his call elsewhere. Unfortunately, I was aware that his cell phone has very poor reception in most rooms of the house. So I let him stay where the cell reception was apparently working for him. Instead, terminally polite guy that I am, I opted for a technological compromise: I muted the sound on the television, but turned on the subtitle option for the show so we both could continue our activities — me watching my disc and him continuing his conversation.
When he finally hung up, I asked him about it. Turns out we had been operating from entirely different assumptions. I have always believed that when you really need to interrupt others to take a call, the very least you can do is take the call in another room (where possible) so as not to extend the interruption any further into your company’s time or activities. And further, that you not expose them to probably unneeded, potentially unwanted, and completely irrelevant information by making them listen to your half of a conversation with someone else. Since they cannot (or are not expected to) participate in the conversation, you shouldn’t force them to be an unwilling audience.
Buck, however, was taught that to take a call away from present company is to slight them — to make them feel excluded or (worse) that they might be the object of your conversation.
In his family, one continues talking on the phone in the presence of others so everyone knows you are not gossiping about them behind their backs. Personally, I still find this point of view bizarre: If I choose to gossip about you, just staying in the room for one conversation is hardly going to spare you that ignominy. All it does is force you to listen to unwanted noise. But Buck would rather listen to my conversation (even if he only gets half of it), just so he can keep tabs on me. In my ethical world, I am protecting Buck’s peace of mind whereas he is simply a busybody. In his world, I am making him feel excluded whereas he is showing interest in my life and conversations.
(I still think I’m right. Indeed, Info World columnist Dan Brody has listed something similar as number 1 on his Ten Commandments of Cell Phone Etiquette. See also “Don’t” number 2 on Microsoft’s 10 rules of cell phone etiquette.)
But the suggestion that Buck and I should play audience for all of each other's phone conversations got me thinking: In a relationship, how much privacy is allowed? And how much information is too much?
Some people assume that relationships mean sharing every little thought, feeling, and experience with one’s partner. In reality, of course, few life stories go complete unedited. And those who do insist on reporting each and every detail frequently leave us wishing for the Reader’s Digest version.
So where do you draw the line? The advice-dispensers over at AskMen.com suggest, reasonably, that there is no need to share information that has no bearing on the relationship. True enough. The problem comes when my idea of “need to know” conflicts with my partner’s.
And I guess that’s the point. If there is one topic that should not be kept secret in a relationship, it’s the subject of secrets themselves.
In my view, each partner needs to explain the kind of information he feels is important to share (or have shared with him) as well as the kind of information that he feels falls in the realm of personal privacy. For me, hypothetical examples are a good way of probing these areas (“If someone gropes me in the locker room, do you want to know about it?”). And it’s safe to say that it’s easier to deal with hypothetical situations early on when they are truly hypothetical — and not a smokescreen for something that has actually happened. This kind of meta-talk won’t cover every situation of course. There may be times when I need to probe more or ask my partner to probe or volunteer less. This, in fact, happened near the beginning of our relationship, when my new bf was using his cell to send me regular text messages about daily activities. “I’m pooping,” beeped one message on my phone. I’m not as skilled at text message as he, but in this case my reply was a simple three letters:
TMI.
Just my thoughts.
Which you didn’t ask for.
Anyway…
posted by Bucephalus at 9:55 PM
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