Some people in conversation care more about showing off their cleverness by arguing every side of an issue than about using good judgment to figure out what’s true. They act as if it’s more impressive to know what could be said than what should be thought. Others have a few favorite topics they excel at but lack variety, which makes their conversations repetitive, boring, and even laughable once people catch on. The most skillful part of talking is to guide the discussion, introducing topics and steering it toward something new when needed. In doing so, you lead the “dance” of conversation.
Good conversation mixes things up—blend talk about current events with thoughtful arguments, stories with reasoning, questions with opinions, and jokes with serious ideas. If you stick to one tone or topic for too long, you’ll bore people and wear them out. As for humor, some things should always be off-limits, like religion, politics, important matters, people of high rank, someone’s serious work, or anything deserving pity. Still, some think they’re not being witty unless they make sharp, cutting remarks. This kind of humor should be reined in: “Spare the spur, boy, and use the reins more firmly.”
People must learn to distinguish between sharp wit and outright bitterness. Someone with a biting sense of humor may make others afraid of their wit, but they should also fear others’ memories, as people don’t forget insults easily.
If you ask a lot of questions, you’ll learn a lot and please others by showing interest in their expertise. People enjoy talking about what they know, and you’ll gain knowledge in return. But your questions shouldn’t be annoying or excessive—that’s the job of an examiner, not a conversationalist. Make sure to let others speak as well, and if someone dominates the conversation, find ways to redirect it. Like musicians who gently guide overenthusiastic dancers off the floor, help others take their turn to speak.
Sometimes, pretending you don’t know something can work to your advantage. If people think you know less than you do, they may later believe you know more than you actually do. Talking about yourself should be rare and carefully done. Someone once mocked a man by saying, “He must be a wise man; he talks about himself so much.” There’s only one graceful way to praise yourself: by praising a virtue in someone else that you also happen to possess.
Critical or personal remarks about others should be used sparingly. Conversation should be open and enjoyable, like a field—free of direct attacks or harsh judgments. I once knew two noblemen in the west of England. One was known for his sharp wit but always hosted generously. The other, curious about the first, would ask his guests, “Be honest—was there a cutting remark or a sly jab at dinner?” When they admitted there was, he would say, “I thought he’d ruin a good meal.”
Discretion in speech is more valuable than eloquence. Speaking in a way that suits the person you’re talking to matters more than having perfectly chosen words or a well-structured argument. A long, uninterrupted speech without dialogue suggests slowness of thought, while a clever reply without a solid argument shows shallowness. It’s like animals: the hare may be quick in turns, but it’s the slower greyhound that wins in the long run.
Using too many details before getting to the point is exhausting, but skipping all details makes you sound abrupt and harsh. A balance between the two is the key to keeping others engaged.
Bacon Blueprint 