Unspoken: When Silence Speaks

 A story from a Winfluence participant:

“So, I am sitting with a junior of mine who has made a mistake in the program design that is quite obvious. He has the experience to recognise this, but clearly did not read the file before forwarding it to me and other senior team members. The guy comes from a small town and speaks in his language, Tamil, with his circle of friends, but is formal with anyone outside this circle and reticent. ....that is the word I want, reticent!

Now, I begin the conv by asking him how he could possibly make such a mistake. He looks at the document in a puzzled way and says, ‘I do not understand, sir.’ even after I point it out a second time. This is frustrating and my irritation is now visible, I think (my wife reads me well, and says that it requires little skill, because I have an expressive face. I take that as a compliment!). 

‘What do you mean, you do not understand, man? Look at this, it is clearly an error and contradicts the project specifications.’ I then show him the source document with the specs in it, which he must have read a hundred times by now.

Yet, he still stares at the page for a whole minute. He is not reading, it is just an irritating silence while he figures out what to say.

‘Sorry, sir, but I do not think there is an error sir.’

I am losing my patience. Big time. ‘Ok,’ I say in an aggressive tone, ‘justify it then.’ He begins hesitantly — English has never been his strength — and seems unsure of what he has done. Many techies have this issue — they justify their average work and later complain that their seniors are poor managers. 

I let him ramble for a bit, but I will be honest here, I am not listening to understand, I am listening to contradict. So, at a point, I interrupt his flow and make my assertion emphatically, with my side of the argument and why that error that he made is, in fact, an error and a big one at that. 

He is quiet and listening without eye contact. When I am done and ask him to make the correction, he does not seem to want to leave, but stares at the paper in front of him and shuffles uncomfortably in his chair. 

‘What is wrong with what I am saying?’ the question from me is a weary one. For a moment, I think he is going to apologize for the mistake and revert with the corrected version, but he does not. Techies again!

He gets up after a minute or two. ‘Ok sir,’ he says and leaves the room. 

The next day, his team leader requests a couple of minutes from me to talk about the junior. ‘N (she calls me by name), this guy has taken the day off.’ I reply that if he, the junior, is upset about being ticked off by me, he is welcome to leave the team or the company. I have enough on my hands than dealing with fragility like this.

‘Actually, N, please do not mind if I say something?’

‘Ok, but no advice please. No gyan.’

‘No, no, it is not about advice — you are far more experienced that we are. What I found out yesterday…..’ here the team leader is hesitant and not making eye contact herself, ‘…..was that he is right.’

My body stiffens, eyes narrow and the eyebrows lower and draw together. I can feel my ego revolting, but there is a voice within that says, ‘Ok, listen’. 

‘I did not understand?' I ask

She then details out an assumption that I had made that, as per the requirement, was incorrect; the past baggage of a similar project had led me astray and it was a baggage that the junior colleague did not carry. This time I pay attention and it is clear to me that he was right.

‘But, why did he stay silent?’ I question, ‘He could have pointed it out to me!’

It is her turn now to be silent. She smiles and turns her eyes away. 

I realise — this is where the guilt becomes overwhelming — that had my assumption been followed, the team would have had to rework a big part of the project. 

The chap returns to work the next day and we carry on, as if the incident had never occurred. There is no dramatic ending to all of this: he does not leave in a month or anything like that, there is no backlash from anyone and, of course, the customer never knows of a problem that could-have-been-but-never-became-one. 

I changed though (my wife agrees). I remember this incident, I think, because I could not say Sorry.”