Have you ever considered being quiet?
That's the leadership advice that journalist Dan Lyons dispenses in his new book, "STFU: The Power of Keeping Your Mouth Shut in an Endlessly Noisy World." He claims that if people could just shut the &$%^ up, they could reap all kinds of rewards, from career success to marital happiness.
"You literally never have to open your mouth and speak, in any situation," he writes — and often, you shouldn't.
This could be useful advice for those who, like Lyons himself, are chronic overtalkers. If you're not one, you've met these people before: the guy who corners you by the office snack counter to yak for an agonizingly long amount of time about his latest vacation, or the bore who won't let you disengage from a cocktail party conversation because he's wound up talking about some political issue you don't care about, or are too polite to discuss in public. Lyons notes that he did this so often at home that his family dubbed his diatribes "Danalogues."
If you do this: stop.
You're alienating your friends, colleagues, and bosses. Especially in banking, overtalking is a huge liability. You can't serve clients without listening to their needs, which means you can't be the one doing most of the talking. That's basic sales. If you don't work in a client-facing function, overtalking can jeopardize your ability to earn the respect of co-workers, be seen as collaborative, and earn promotions. It can be a career-killer, especially now that overbearing leadership is out of style.
"The boss used to be an alpha who barked out orders like a Marine drill sergeant at Parris Island, a commander in chief who knew all the answers," Lyons writes. "Now we're in the age of humble leaders, quiet leaders, leaders who ask a lot of questions and lead by following — in short, STFU leaders."
I know Lyons; we worked together at Forbes Magazine years ago, although, because we were never based in the same office, I didn't realize he used to have this major personality flaw.
Outwardly, he seemed like a success. In addition to Forbes, he's worked at Newsweek, wrote the popular and controversial blog "Fake Steve Jobs" lampooning the Apple founder, and was a writer for the tech-sendup comedy show "Silicon Valley," as well as the author of two previous books.
But elsewhere, things were falling apart. Lyons relates in the book how he almost got divorced when his wife could no longer take his blabbering on or his lack of impulse control, a known contributor to overtalking. He also managed to get himself bounced from a lucrative job that would have made him millions, if he could only have kept his mouth shut.
Having hit rock bottom personally, Lyons decided to try changing his nature. He sought out professors who specialize in overtalking and delved into the academic research. The book looks at how the world of work, and tech more broadly, contribute to the background noise we all face and, not surprisingly, recommends detaching from screens and social media wherever possible. (Try it. It's not easy.)
Among other things Lyons tries in his quest to squelch his urge to talk all the time: silently exploring the woods ("forest bathing"); sticky notes strategically placed above his computer's webcam, admonishing him not to talk so much in Zoom meetings; asking himself, "why am I tweeting?" before posting a tweet. It's a process, but it's made him a quieter person.
If you can manage to stop talking, the book explains, research shows you may have better medical outcomes, less stress and anxiety, and happier relationships. The next step is listening, a crucial skill that few people in corporate life have managed to cultivate, but that's invaluable for surviving both the inside and the outside of a bank. Active listening, the most difficult kind, is exhausting, but it's how leaders distinguish themselves; Lyons quotes "In Search of Excellence" author Tom Peters, who says that nearly every great business leader he's met is a Jedi master of "aggressive listening."
After a year of hard work and zipped lips, Lyons seems to have unlocked the next level of self-help book nirvana: he's happier. Better yet, he thinks his increasing silence makes everyone around him happier as well.
For bank executives, as it was for the author, talking less could mean getting more.
