“That’s a great question” is not a great answer
Imagine you’re meeting a friend. She’s an old friend, and it’s been a while since you last caught up. She asks you how you’ve been and what’s been happening. You relate some of the things that have happened since your last interaction. When you finish, she says, “That’s a great opening statement.”
If you don’t find that weird, you need more friends. Or, you’re a lawyer.
“That’s a great question (from now on, TAGQ)” is similar. It’s not something you’d say in conversation, and hence it is incongruous when told at a business conversation.
Photo by Camylla Battani on Unsplash
Business cliches
If one were to rank order the universe of business cliches, TAGQ would consistently remain in the Top 10, sandwiched between paradigm shifts and shifting goalposts. I won’t open the kimono on this subject any further. All these cliches are low hanging fruit.
I digress.
Ironically, while the ostensible reason for these is to sound intelligent or make someone seem intelligent, they reflect intellectual laziness. Like the word awesome, which, by the way, is not an awesome word.
It’s usually a lazy, slipshod adjective for all the times you meant to say breathtaking, unique, stunning, astounding, astonishing, awe-inspiring, stupendous, staggering, extraordinary, incredible, unbelievable, magnificent, wonderful, spectacular, remarkable, phenomenal, prodigious, miraculous, formidable, imposing, impressive, or sublime.
The wisdom of the crowds
I write a biweekly newsletter (shameless plug). In September, I asked:
“I’m sublimating a pet peeve in an essay I am writing: That’s a great question - is not a great answer. I get a visceral reaction every time someone says this in a meeting. If you do too, feel free to email me any thoughts you have on the subject.”
I didn’t expect the responses I got. I heard from friends in corporate jobs, tenured professors, trainers, and even an A380 pilot. I’d obviously touched a raw nerve here.
There were some interesting patterns. The corporate folks wondered aloud about the need to grade a question. Couldn’t we simply pause? And reflect?
The teachers and trainers thought it helped encourage unsure students to ask questions, especially the shy ones. Personally, though, they felt it insincere and wouldn’t like to be patronized with a TAGQ response from someone else.
I loved my friend, the pilot’s self-effacing response: “The first time, I can tolerate it. Repeat it, and I know it’s an outright lie. I know that I am not capable of asking two great questions in an hour.”
Why do we say “That’s a great question,” anyway
There are four distinct reasons for this, and that, more often than not, it’s a combination of two or more of these:
Stalling for time
The best way to buy time is to stay silent. When President Obama pauses, he's showing that he's confident enough to embrace silence, has an acute awareness of his audience’s attention, and is thinking through what he will say next. Be like Obama even after seeing this video by the Late Show with Stephen Colbert that is an edit of over five minutes of pauses he took during his speech at the University of Illinois. All from the same speech. No repeats.Our loathing of silence is also why we fill silence with sounds, you know. Most of the time, we don’t even realize it as we blend from one sentence to the other, you know. Sometimes, we don’t even know it, you know. For example, it took me some time to realize how often I say you know, you know.
I’m now on a diet.Grateful for the interaction
We crave agreement in life and at work, but the American business context is deprived of it. In India, where I am from, it is courtesy to continually acknowledge the receipt of information with unintuitive (to the rest of the world) nods of one’s head or brief sounds of acknowledgment and encouragement. I believe the Japanese have something similar in “Hai” - short for “I’m with you.”
Cross the Atlantic and you’ll find that verbal interjections are frowned upon and even considered rude. One is expected to be silent when someone else is speaking. As a result, any verbal acknowledgment (like a question) prompts more gratitude than is necessary.Flatters the interviewer
On rare occasions, someone might like compliments for asking a great question. Upon graduating from college, and with experience, they will get jaded. In a large meeting, you run the risk of the waiter’s trap. Ever been to lunch where the waiter compliments two of your colleagues on their order and, upon realizing how cliched it might sound, has no words of encouragement for your choice of entree. You’ll have second thoughts about what you ordered.
The business equivalent is repeatedly complimenting people on their questions, realizing it sounds cliched, and having no words of encouragement for the VP-Purchasing’s frankly-not-so-great question.Deflect the question.
Sometimes, you don’t want to answer the question and hope to deflect it with a hollow compliment. Unless you’re a politician, this won’t work, and you won’t have the chops to pull it off. It is as outdated a strategy as telling people to envision the audience in their underwear.
What could you say instead?
Whatever you do, please don’t ever say, “That’s an awesome question.” That’s a double whammy if there ever was one. I recommend one of three approaches, all rooted in being honest. And human.
If you have to grade the question, say, “That’s a difficult, unusual, unexpected, deep, tough, interesting, complicated, or thoughtful question.” Don’t merely replace great with a synonym like fantastic or excellent. Use a genuine and thoughtful adjective instead.
Super qualify the question to calibrate it further. For example:
That’s a tough one, but I’m glad you’re asking it.
Are you asking {Question} because of {Insert possible motivation}
I’ve been asked this a couple of times and still don’t have a great answer. So, let me give you the best I currently have
If you’d asked this six months ago, ___. But now, ___
Right now, I’m afraid ___. In six months, though, ___
Pause. Say nothing. Gather thoughts. Answer question.
Pause for as long as you need to like Obama. Or, like Deep Thought from Douglas Adams’ Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Deep Thought paused and thought for seven and a half million years before coming up with the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. Now, if only we knew the question.
It must have been a great one.
