Lately, I’ve heard a lot of chatter about whether or not you should ask someone what they “do” at social or networking events.
I first had this conversation (debate?) with the very cool Mike Davis, after meeting him at an event and promptly proceeding to ask him what he does.
“I hate that question,” Mike told me, “and I’ve made up my mind to stop answering it.”
Mike’s whole theory is, what you do is just one small part of who you are and, frankly, is often the most boring part. He says he can tell all he needs to know about what you do in a few moments anyways, just by process of observation.
Better conversation starters, in Mike’s mind, are questions like, “Where was the last place you went on vacation?” “Tell me one great thing that happened to you outside of work this week.” Or, and I love this one, “What is the predominant color in your sock drawer?”
Just to play devil’s advocate, I offered up this counterpoint of view: what you do can say a lot about who you are, what you’re interested in, and what you care about. When two people know what the other does, they are able to clearly identify their common points and the points at which they differ. Plus, your job occupies most all of your day, most days of the week. So isn’t it natural that we’d want to learn up front what occupies so much of someone’s time?
When Mike and I said goodbye, I still wasn’t sure I completely bought into his theory, which also involved the idea that if we’re meant to meet again, we will. See, along with not revealing what he does, Mike also doesn’t distribute business cards. In fact, he abhors the whole business card-trading game.
“But if two people have a meaningful connection at an event, how will they contact each other again without exchanging phone numbers and emails and such?”
Simple. If they want to connect, they’ll seek each other out. If they’re meant to meet again, they will. Think about it, most of the business cards you collect at networking events end up in a stack or a drawer anyways, never to be touched again. But those two or three people you had a great conversation with and really enjoyed meeting? Chances are you will remember their name, Twitter handle, website, etc.
Oddly enough, I ran into Mike again at the Web 2.0 Microsoft party in New York City last week. “I knew we’d run into each other again!” he said. After a few minutes of catching up, we got back on the topic of what to do about “what do you do?” but this time, I had a few months of observation on the subject under my belt. And you know what I discovered? Mike was right.
Nine times out of ten, “I’m in PR” is a total conversation killer. And unless someone has a really cool/different/exciting job (like being a personal chef), I’m probably not going to have much to say about what they do either.
Still, if you meet me at a party and ask me what I do, chances are, I’ll probably tell you. But I find myself avoiding asking the question, when I can. And while I’m not walking up to people asking about their sock drawers, I am trying out some different openers, like “What brings you here tonight?” or “Do you live around here?”
I’m finding it yields much more meaningful results.
What do you think?
Amazing aritcle from an amazing person. Shelley, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to even consider this point of view, let alone write about it. I _will_ see you again.
On the plus side, knowing how someone spends their days can tell you a lot about how they spend their time…freelance or corporate work? Solitary or collaborative work? Skilled or unskilled? Blue collar or white collar?
Unfortunately, I find when people you tell people what you do (or when they tell me), the tendency is to put them in a box…they’re in “tech” or in “media” or in “marketing” or in “education” or in “finance” or the “nonprofit” world and if you don’t think you speak the same language, you don’t even bother to try to find commonalities.
I’ve found that to be true for me at times when I introduce myself as someone who works in education to people in the business world. It’s like they don’t like the education “business model” or they think teachers don’t work hard enough or whatever (I’m never really sure). I get the feeling that they think we live in two such completely different worlds, we have nothing that could be of common interest.
So, I guess I agree with both of your positions…telling someone what you do both tells them a lot but you are also labeling yourself (“I’m a this”) which they could be interested in or which could lead them to completely dismiss you and not take the time to get to know you.
Hey Shelley, thanks for the shout out in linkage form!
Funny, but I’ve always said that people should wear name tags all the time, because it’s a great conversation starter for those who are not so bold to simply walk up to people and introduce themselves, as I am.
While I agree with you that it’s not such a big deal to ask “what do you do?”, I also think that it is important to break free of the (especially big city east coast) phenomenon of being locked into the answer as our “job”.
Luckily, I have an easy time of it, as you referenced, since what I do is not JUST my job, but what I love, but I think even people in office jobs or industries that make people’s eyes glaze over need to think wider and describe WHO WE ARE, in terms of what we love, and not JUST our profession.
I learned this very lesson several years ago when I went to visit a friend on the west coast. I was introduced to my friend’s girlfriend, and that was my first question: “what do you do?” I was informed in no uncertain terms that that was an “east coast” question and that it was a sure-fire way to spot someone from NY or Boston, as that was the first question they always asked.
I spent the rest of the week meeting many new people, and observed that, indeed, nobody started a conversation that way.
I do still find myself falling into that, though, especially at a conference or networking event. I don’t think I could bring myself to just ask “where was the last place you went on vacation”. I would love to start out with “so what are you reading?” but, well, I think I’d get some funny looks and have people run the other way.
You guys are educating me. I had no idea that question was an East Coast thing!
Very interesting – thanks for giving me something to think about and some inspiration for future events!
I hate that question, too. When people ask me that, I always reply, “as little as possible, darling!”
It’s true! My cards say, “AV Flox, muse.” Let’s LIVE! We shan’t concern ourselves with those daily things that eat our brain. PR? Accounting? Programming? Maybe you’re amazing at what you do, maybe that project is your brainchild or maybe you suck and hate your job. That says something about you, yes. BUT! What kept you up last night? What would you die to be eating right now? What’s your worst overshare of all time? That’s what I want to know.
I’ve had people in Europe tell me this is an American question and that people in Europe are too evolved to define themselves solely in terms of what they do for a living. That said, it doesn’t seem like a terribly inappropriate question at a professional networking event.
But shouldn’t we all take our PR training to heart and if we don’t like a question asked of us, just answer the question we wish were asked?
I’m a West Coast (SF area) techie. When I meet people, we already know what we do. So the first question is more often “Where do you work?”
I think if I got “Where was the last place you went on vacation?” I’d be wondering about the person asking. That’s a friendly question for a bit later in the conversation, thank you. (And if I got the sock drawer question, I’d be backing carefully away
The last social event I went to was a tweetup (Twitter meetup). The first question everyone asked (or info they volunteered?) Their Twitter handle!
Hi, I’m @vlb.
I think we’re ignoring people’s natural inclinations here. I’m an extrovert, so if someone approached me with a personal question about my books or vacations or socks or something equally creative, I’d enjoy playing; but more introverted or private people would be really off-put. Approaching an introvert — even one with excellent social skills — with an introspective leading question is to project one’s own interaction style on everyone.
Often when we ask what someone does, we don’t really want to know about their job — we’re merely saying, I’d like to get to know you more, so I’ll ask you a safe question that will get you talking. It’s an invitation — it’s up to the respondent to tell us something as guarded as “I’m in PR”, or to tell us what passions keep them up at night.
The difference in interaction works the opposite way, too: if a person who needs ‘warm up’ time asks the “what do you do” question, and receives a person’s deepest personal ambitions in response, this quick turn to personal depth may make the asker uncomfortable.
Ultimately, a sense of mutual empathy dictates exploring an increasingly personal conversation in turns and in steps.
L. Rust Hills commented in his hilarious and poignant book How to Do Things Right that “You don’t realize, until you quit work, just how much of your conception of your self comes from work — not just from what you do, but how you do it.” (The whole section, titled Beyond the Occupational Identity, is worth reading. As is the whole book.) The question “what do you do?” is really a proxy for “who are you?”, using what is, for most of us, the single most prominent handle on identity.
There are, of course, whole shelves of self-help books about how to deal with the dissonance created when one’s day job is misaligned with other determinants of identity.
I think the appropriateness question “what do you do” depends on where you are asking it. If I’m at an industry event, everyone else is there for the same reason, to get to know people, trade contacts, and build business relationships. I rarely bring up what I do at a party or social event. I’ve got more important things to talk about than work, like the baby coming soon, the Presidential election, gas prices, how prices continue to rise while our pay doesn’t, or how good the cheese plate was!
[...] Shelley Greenberg wrote an article about this. Shelley Greenberg, thank you. Thank you for showing me that what I say in public, at [...]
I read a great book a while back called How to Talk to Anyone by Leil Lowndes. Her take was that “What do you do?” sounded pedestrian and middle-class. (After all, if you’re talking with really rich people, they may not “do” anything for money!) So instead, she advised, you should ask, “How do you spend most of your time?” I love it!
I’m finding this thread a bit late, sorry! Just met Mike Davis myself yesterday, and I found this link on his blog.
I like to ask the question “So, what’s your connection to this [event, person, party etc.]” which is a version of “how do you know these people.” People love to tell stories of how they met friends or how they got a job or how they fell in love with someone or something.
Once you get them telling a story, you can find some common ground.
I’m going to check out that book, How to do things right. Thanks, all!