Maybe it was 3 a.m. and you were a teenager talking for hours on the phone with your significant other. Or maybe it was a heart-to-heart with one of your parents. Or maybe it just erupted out of nowhere with a friend or even a stranger while having a cup of coffee or going on a long walk. We’ve all had them right? Those conversations that just click, that flow, that make you feel good inside. They’re like the best of live jazz – a theme holds them together, but it’s the improvisation that makes them so beautiful. It’s like, rather than guiding the conversation, the conversation guides us.

So, why are they so few and far between?

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Why do those rare gems of conversation flow so easily and why are others such a struggle to keep going for more than three minutes? Is there a formula, a guide, a set of hints to finding that perfect conversational harmony?

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi thinks so. From Finding Flow:

The secret of starting a good conversation is really quite simple. The first step is to find out what the other person’s goals are: What is he interested in at the moment? What is she involved in? What has he or she accomplished, or is trying to accomplish? If any of this sounds worth pursuing, the next step is to utilize one’s own experience or expertise on the topics raised by the other person – without trying to take over the conversation, but developing it jointly.

This makes sense: it’s how I go about the whole Art of Conversation myself. I try to find what the person is most passionate about. It’s a delicate art and sometimes I slip into the role of interviewer. But it’s exhilarating to see passion come over someone while they’re talking – the way their eyes light up, how their posture changes, the rhythm of their sentences like drum solos.

Over the years I’ve come to realize that not everyone has a passion. Those of us passionate about anything might be in the minority. A friend tells me she prefers having conversations with those who don’t have any specific interests or passions because she otherwise feels that the conversation is fenced in by just one or two topics – topics that she likely isn’t interested in herself.


Which brings up another question: Why do we converse at all? What is the origin of conversation? What does it achieve? How does it benefit us as individuals and a species?

Stephen Miller, author of Conversation: A History of a Declining Art describes conversation as ‘talk without purpose,’ a masturbation for the mouth. And Miller laments the fact that, as Green Day put it, ‘when masturbation’s lost it’s fun [we’re] fucking lazy.’ Surrounded by conversation-avoidance devices like iPods, televisions, and (ironically) cell phones, these days when we’re not walking past each other, we seem to be talking past each other.

Language did not come about from our need for pillow talk. Unless, the purpose of that pillow talk is to get laid. I’m being serious. The purpose of speech has always been more about manipulation than communication. We speak more often because we want something than because we want to be understood. We’re more concerned with not looking stupid than trying to get smart.

As primates walking that thin line between both holding onto our friends and trying to outdo them, we use language to present ourselves as unique and to gossip about others as unfit. Rarely do we use it to try to understand each other.


Do any of you listen to the NPR show Wait, wait don’t tell me? It’s a half talk-show, half game-show which supposedly revolves around the day’s news. But it doesn’t really revolve around the news at all. The focus isn’t content, it’s wit. Opinions are worth little whereas irony is worth everything. Sort of like the Daily Show. Like the Colbert Report. Like the Onion. Like 90% of the internet.

I happen to be a fan of these wit-fests myself. I love all those programs. And when I’m unable to engage in meaningful conversation, when it feels like we’re talking past each other or just waiting for the next chance to speak, then I almost always resort to sarcasm, irony, and wit. It’s so much more pleasurable than pretending.


Above the desk of my travel agent in the small port town of Guiria, Venezuela was a framed piece of paper that read, in italic type, ‘mediocre conversations revolve around people, good conversations focus on events, great conversations are about ideas.’ It was one of those cues – the bumper sticker on a wall – that is supposed to unite us: ‘I’m an idea person, you’re an idea person, let’s be idea people together.’ But my travel agent was an asshole and so I didn’t feel much like talking to her at all.

And that’s another part, right? For a good conversation to happen, we need to actually like – or at least respect – the person we’re talking to. A conversation isn’t just the engagement of language and ideas … our emotions and our feelings toward others are part of the dance.

Just like happiness, productivity, and avoiding a hangover, I’ll never master the science of conversation. There is no science. There is no mastery. But there are useful tips. A couple of glasses of wine or tea always help. And when that perfect conversation does happen … it’s a beautiful song.