Michelle: Most of us think we're good listeners. The uncomfortable truth is, we're probably just good at waiting for our turn to talk. What if the single biggest block to real connection isn't what we say, but how poorly we hear what's left unsaid? Mark: Oh, that hits a little too close to home. I can feel myself doing it—someone's talking, and my brain is just a frantic rehearsal studio, practicing the brilliant thing I'm about to say the second they take a breath. I'm not really listening; I'm just reloading. Michelle: Exactly! And that's the core idea in a fantastic book we're diving into today: Listen Like You Mean It by Ximena Vengoechea. Mark: Vengoechea... I know that name. She was a finalist for the Next Big Idea Club, right? Her work gets a lot of buzz. Michelle: It does, and for good reason. What's fascinating is that Vengoechea isn't a psychologist or a therapist. She’s a user researcher who has worked at major tech companies like Pinterest, LinkedIn, and Twitter. Her job was literally to understand people—how they think, what they need, what they struggle with. It gives this book a super practical, almost field-guide feel. Mark: A user researcher. Okay, so is this a book about how to listen better in a business meeting? Or how to design a better app? I'm trying to picture how that translates to, you know, a tense conversation with my spouse. Michelle: That’s the perfect question, because she argues it all starts in the same place. It's not about the context, it's about your internal state. It all begins with cultivating what she calls a 'Listening Mindset.'

Mark: A 'Listening Mindset.' That sounds a bit abstract. What does that actually mean in practice? Michelle: It boils down to three core qualities you have to actively bring to a conversation: empathy, humility, and curiosity. Empathy is trying to imagine their world. Curiosity is having a genuine desire to learn. But the one that’s really a game-changer is humility. Mark: Hold on, humility? In a difficult conversation, that can feel like weakness. If someone is criticizing me, and I'm just being 'humble,' am I not just letting them walk all over me? Michelle: That's the common misconception. Vengoechea frames humility as releasing yourself from the assumption that you already have the answer. It’s not about agreeing; it’s about quieting your own ego long enough to truly hear what's being said. And the cost of not doing that can be huge. There's a story in the book that is just chilling. Mark: Okay, I'm intrigued. Let's hear it. Michelle: So, a young user researcher named Eve is in a high-stakes interview with a celebrity. Her mentor, Mia, is also there. They're studying the effects of cyberbullying. The celebrity starts talking about the online harassment he faces, and Eve, having heard similar things from other participants, interrupts him. She assumes he's going to say he just ignores the trolls. Mark: Oh no. I can feel the cringe coming. Michelle: It's a total shutdown. The participant just clams up. He says, "No, actually... it stings." But the moment is lost. He’s guarded now. Eve almost blew the entire session. But then her mentor, Mia, steps in. With genuine humility and curiosity, she gently asks him to say more about what that feels like. Mark: And what happens? Michelle: Everything. He opens up completely. He shares this incredibly vulnerable insight that the trolling doesn't just hurt him, it hurts because he feels responsible for protecting his followers from the hate. It was an insight that completely changed their product strategy. Without Mia’s humility—her willingness to admit she didn't know his experience—they would have walked away with nothing. Mark: Wow. So humility wasn't about being weak; it was the key that unlocked the truth. It was a strength. That makes sense. But this also brings up another point. The book talks a lot about observing people—their body language, their tone. Some readers have criticized this, saying it can feel a bit... clinical, or even lead to biased assumptions, like being able to judge someone's confidence by their voice pitch. Michelle: That's a really important critique to bring up. And I think the author would agree that observation is a tool, not a diagnostic kit. The point isn't to say, "Aha, your feet are pointed away, you want to leave!" It's to notice a potential disconnect. If someone is saying they're excited but their body language seems closed off, that's not a conclusion. It's an invitation to get curious. It's a cue to ask a better, more open-ended question, like "How are you feeling about this, really?" It’s about using observation to deepen empathy, not to label people. Mark: I see. So the observation is just the starting point for more curiosity. It's not the final judgment. Okay, so you've got the mindset. You're humble, you're curious. But now you're in the middle of a real, messy conversation. That's where it gets hard. I'm thinking of that friend who calls to vent about their job, and I immediately jump into 'fix-it' mode, offering a five-point plan. Michelle: You've just perfectly described what Vengoechea calls a 'default listening mode.' And you, my friend, are a classic 'Problem-Solver.'

Mark: I am 100% a Problem-Solver. My wife calls me out on it all the time. She'll be telling me about a frustrating day, and I'm already mentally drafting an email to her boss. It rarely goes well. Michelle: It's one of the most common traps! We think we're helping, but we're not meeting the other person's need. There's a perfect little story in the book about this. Imagine a group of friends at a breakfast spot. One woman is furious because her sister skipped her daughter's birthday. Mark: Okay, I'm picturing it. Michelle: Two of her friends immediately jump in as 'Validators.' They say, "Oh, your sister is so self-centered! You have every right to be angry!" They're just adding fuel to the fire. Then, a third friend tries to be a 'Mediator.' She says, "Well, you know, maybe she had a crazy work deadline and just forgot?" Mark: Let me guess. That did not go over well. Michelle: She got death stares. The group shut her down immediately. Because in that moment, the woman didn't need a mediator or a problem-solver. She needed a validator. The roles were completely mismatched, and it created friction. The key, Vengoechea argues, is to first figure out what the other person actually needs from you, and then adapt. Mark: But how do you do that? People don't usually say, "Hey, I need you to be in Validator mode for the next ten minutes." Michelle: They don't. That's where her next tool comes in: 'Connecting Questions.' These are questions framed to be completely neutral and open-ended, designed to uncover the real need. Instead of assuming, you ask. Mark: Give me an example. What does a 'connecting question' sound like in the wild? Michelle: Okay, so instead of asking a closed question like, "Are you upset about that?" which just gets a yes or no, you'd ask an exploratory question like, "How does that situation make you feel?" Or if someone is struggling to open up, you can use an encouraging phrase, which is barely even a question, like, "Say more about that." Mark: Ah, I see. It's about opening a door, not pointing them to a specific room. You're giving them the space to define the topic themselves. Michelle: Precisely. It takes the pressure off. You're not leading them to an answer you expect. You're just holding a flashlight while they explore their own thoughts. It's a technique straight out of the user research playbook—you never want to bias the participant's answer. You want their unvarnished truth. Mark: That makes so much sense. It’s a way to de-escalate and get to the real issue. But what about conversations that are just... draining? The ones where you're doing all the work, and you feel like an emotional sponge? Michelle: And that leads us to the final, and maybe the most advanced, part of the book. It's not just about how to listen, but how to stop listening and protect yourself.

Mark: That feels revolutionary. We're always told to be better listeners, to lean in more. We're never given permission to lean out. Michelle: Right? But empathetic listening is an intense activity. It consumes energy. Vengoechea introduces this concept of 'listener's drain,' and she uses this incredible story to illustrate it. She talks about David Isay, the founder of the oral history project StoryCorps. Mark: Oh, I love StoryCorps. Those stories are so powerful. Michelle: They are. And Isay describes what it takes to get those stories. He says that when he's in an interview, he's like a laser beam, completely focused. He says it forms this profound bond, but it's utterly exhausting. And he has this quote that just floored me. He says, "After I’m done it’s like having run a marathon; I’m totally wasted." Mark: Wow. 'Like having run a marathon.' That's a powerful image. It completely reframes listening from a passive act to an athletic one. Michelle: An emotional athletic event! And it explains so much. It explains that feeling of being completely wiped out after a long, intense phone call with a family member who is going through a tough time. It's not just in your head. It's a real, physiological drain. Mark: That's a game-changer. We always talk about 'burnout' from doing, but never from listening. So what's the solution? Just avoid difficult conversations? Michelle: No, the solution is to have a recovery plan. Just like a marathon runner doesn't run another marathon the next day. Vengoechea offers a whole toolkit for recovery: things like cultivating quiet time after a heavy conversation, getting moving to physically shake off the stress, or even just reconnecting with your own mission to remember why you're engaging in this hard work in the first place. It's about honoring your own limits. Mark: It’s about putting on your own oxygen mask first. You can't be a good listener for others if you're completely depleted yourself. Michelle: Exactly. It's the missing piece of the puzzle. We need the mindset, the in-conversation tools, and the post-conversation recovery.

Michelle: When you put it all together, it really is a three-part journey. First, you have to fix your internal mindset—cultivating that empathy, humility, and curiosity. Then, you use a specific set of tools, like connecting questions, to navigate the external conversation. And finally, you have a plan to recover your own energy so you can do it all again. Mark: It’s about making the other person feel truly seen and heard, but not at the cost of your own sanity. It’s sustainable empathy. Michelle: That’s a perfect way to put it. Sustainable empathy. And if there's one simple, actionable thing listeners can take away from this, it's this: the next time you're in a conversation and you feel that powerful urge to interrupt—to give advice, to share your own story, to solve the problem—just pause. Count to three in your head. See what happens in that space you create. Mark: I love that. It's so simple but so hard. And maybe it's worth asking yourself after your next important conversation: were you listening to understand, or were you just waiting to reply? Michelle: A question we could all stand to ask more often. This is Aibrary, signing off.