The Stories We Tell
How perception checking can create a more just world
Some years ago, my partner got in the car. We hadn’t seen each other for a few days, and I was excited for us to reconnect. As we started driving, they were so quiet. We usually were boisterous and silly and talkative together, but something was different on this day.
My mind started flipping through its rolodex of explanations: they’re tired, they’ve got a sore throat, they’re enjoying connecting with me in silence, they haven’t had coffee yet, their morning at work went badly, they’re doing a short meditation, they’re upset with me. I tried to turn my attention back to the present moment—the feeling of my hands on the steering wheel, the scratchiness of my shirtsleeves, the smell of the dried flowers pinned to the visor over the passenger seat. But that internal rolodex was persistent, and it kept stopping on the same card: they’re upset with me.
Then, without warning, that internal rolodex of mine decided to update its technology so quickly that, absent any internet or social media, I was doing the psychological equivalent of doom scrolling. “They’re upset with me,” spiraled into “I must have messed something up. Oh gosh this is never going to get better. We’re obviously going to disconnect from each other, and then I’ll be alone for forever, and I’ll die by myself, and no one will love me.” The brain’s capacity to catastrophize is real! All this happened within less than five minutes.
Thankfully, my brain also decided to look through its mental files on communication skills. As I doom scrolled, I recalled the differences between first- and second-order realities. First-order realities are observable, verifiable, and often physical. Some of my current first- order realities include (a) I am typing on a laptop keyboard, (b) I am sitting on a blue couch, and (c) it is cloudy outside. Second-order realities are the stories people tell about first-order realities, the meaning they attach to them. Sometimes second-order realities consist of judgments, whether positive or negative. My current second-order realities sound like, “Wow, writing is so great! It’s such a gift to have the time and a place to sit and do it. Also, this blue color of the couch is beautiful even if the weather sucks.” I appreciate these two terms because they remind me that the facts of the world and also the meaning I attach to them matter. Though both first- and second-order realities are real, they’re not the same thing.
With this distinction in mind, I worked up the courage to get my internal doom scroller some feedback on its story. I said to my partner, “Hey, I notice you’re quiet right now. Could be a lot of reasons for that. Are you upset with me?” It turned out my partner wasn’t upset with me at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. They let me know that they’d recently spent a lot of time talking with people, and their introverted self was worn out. They knew our relationship was strong and that they didn’t have to be “on” around me. They were feeling grateful for that comfort in our connection. We decided to listen to music instead of having a conversation.
Perception Checking Statements
What I said to my partner in that moment is an example of a perception checking statement. These statements have three parts.
PART 1: Describe the situation using factual, non-judgmental language.
Name the first-order reality, not an evaluation of it. Imagine I share kitchen space with someone, and I’m having a conflict with them about who does the dishes. In this first part of the perception checking statement I might say, “I notice that the dirty dishes you used for yesterday’s dinner are still in the sink.” I wouldn’t say, “Wow you’re so gross!” or “This pile of dirty dishes is disgusting! Who can live like this?” Those statements are second-order realities that may be true to my experience. They say something about my emotions and values, and they matter, but they’re not what I’m trying to express right now.
PART 2: Acknowledge multiple possible explanations.
Present them as possibilities, not certainties. In the same dish conflict, in the second part of my statement I might say, “I wonder if you forgot to wash them, or if maybe you were hoping that I’d wash them.” Alternatively, instead of offering up possible interpretations, I could say simply, “I’m curious why you left the dishes there overnight.” As in the first part of the perception checking statement, continue to avoid language that blames, shames, judges, or criticizes. This second part of the statement signals that the person speaking does not yet know what is happening for the other person. That expression of curiosity and humility creates space for the other person be more open and less defensive in response. It sets up the conditions for a better outcome.
PART 3: Ask for clarification.
In this dish conflict, I’d finish the perception checking statement by asking, “What’s happening for you?” Or maybe I’d ask, “Would you be willing to talk with me about why you left the dishes there?” This third part invites the other person to share their own explanations for the first-order reality.
Why use perception checking statements?
Perception checking statements have multiple purposes, and I’ll highlight three of them: de-escalating conflict, affirming difference, and becoming more trauma-informed.
To De-escalate Conflict
Perception checking statements help us to notice, verify, and become more flexible with the stories we tell about the world. Maybe when I see the dirty dishes in the sink, I automatically assume that my roommate/partner/child/coworker/parent expects me to do all the work. That story might be true, but it might not be. If I run with the story without checking it first, I might exclaim, “You are such an entitled slob! You don’t do any work and just expect everyone to pick up after you!” The conflict will almost surely escalate.
Don’t get me wrong: To express anger, disappointment, frustration, fear, and sadness is important. Perception checking statements are not designed for that immediate purpose, but they do something else that’s crucial. They create a bit of space between first-order reality and our charged reactions to it. In turn, creating that space encourages people to connect with us. That connection is a key ingredient for effective conflict resolution.
To Affirm Difference
I love this cartoon from Nathan W. Pyle, and it gives me a giggle each time I look at it. In the drawing, a construction worker holds up a sign that says, “SLOW.” A turtle, looking at the construction worker, responds with a sign that says, “RUDE.” If you haven’t seen this cartoon before, please click the link or find it using your favorite search engine before reading the next few paragraphs. The real image is way better than my description of it!
From the construction worker’s perspective, holding up a sign saying “SLOW” is an act of care. It encourages passersby to reduce their speed. The sign prevents anyone from getting hurt in the construction zone ahead, and the message helps keep everyone safe. But for the turtle, the worker’s sign is a judgment. The turtle is used to being compared to some supposedly normal, fast pace. The turtle is also used to people shaming them for a quality that is simply part of being a good turtle. For the turtle, “SLOW” signals a negative evaluation. The turtle returns the worker’s judgment, labeling them rude.
The two beings in this cartoon share a first-order reality in which the person holds a sign that says “SLOW.” These two beings don’t yet know that their second-order realities differ. To develop a more thriving relationship, they need not make their second-order realities identical. They also do not need to figure out which second-order reality is “correct.” Instead, they can honor that multiple second-order realities exist.
To begin that process, either the turtle or the construction worker could use a perception checking statement. The construction worker might say something like, “Oh, I notice that you’re holding a sign that says ‘RUDE.’ Can you help me to understand why?” This version of a perception checking statement combines parts one and three. By sharing this observation and question, the construction worker avoids defensiveness. Or, the turtle could start the process by saying, “You’re holding a sign saying ‘SLOW.’ I wonder if you’re judging me or if maybe you’re holding it for some other reason. Could you explain this to me?” When the turtle expresses uncertainty about whether they’re being judged, they gift the construction worker a chance to notice another reality. As both the construction worker and turtle learn more about how each perceives the situation, they can attune more to each other’s world. I can imagine a second illustration after this perception checking conversation where the construction worker, now more aware of the turtle’s second-order reality, holds a sign saying, “Construction Ahead.” The turtle, now also having a better sense for the reasons why the construction worker is holding a sign, returns with their own sign that says, “Thanks!” Everyone lives happily ever after!
Everyone lives happily ever after! j/k
I’m kidding about everyone living happily ever after. The world is so much more complicated than that, and social, systemic challenges have no easy fixes. Nevertheless, noticing differences in second-order realities is powerful, and the cartoon points to one instructive reason why.
The cartoon’s humor relies on our shared sense of the world. It’s funny because, as the cartoon’s intended audience, our reality aligns easily with that of the construction worker. Seeing a person wearing a reflective vest and hard hat, we know their job. Seeing the shape of the sign with a short message, we infer that we must be in a scenario where there’s traffic. We do all that without observing any cars, highways, or heavy machinery. Because the audience shares so many experiences and so much cultural context with the construction worker, we can jump immediately to the construction worker’s second-order reality. The turtle’s response points out that jump, and noticing it makes us laugh. I appreciate this kind of play.
Outside of cartoons, not all of us share the same backgrounds, experiences, perspectives, or meanings. Our stories and our realities are different, and when we forget those differences, first- and second-order realities collapse. We can forget that the road was not built with the turtle in mind. We can forget that, in the turtle’s world, slowing down doesn’t create safety. After all, the turtle’s world wasn’t dangerous until the highway came through. We can forget that the humans, not the turtles, value speed. Amidst this collapse of first- and second-order realities, the turtle becomes what we want the turtle to be, not who the turtle actually is. We can start to view the turtle as lazy, naïve, or too sensitive.
The meaning people attach to behaviors, situations, and expressions varies widely from person to person, place to place, time to time, and culture to culture. In one context, a person not making eye contact might be demonstrating respect. In another, they might be indicating disrespect. In a third, their eye contact may have nothing to do with respect and everything to do with neurodiversity. In yet another, a person not making eye contact might feel ashamed. Or maybe the sun is in their eyes, so they need to look away. Perception checking statements provide one way—but not the only way—to become aware of a wider range of stories and to honor what the world means to the people in our lives.
To Become More Trauma-Informed
As I write about in my forthcoming book (expected later this year), first- and second-order realities often collapse under conditions of trauma. Because very few people become adults without experiencing something potentially traumatic, these traumatic collapses can seem normal. To survive the present, people jump immediately to explanations from their past. And sometimes, doing so helps them to survive.
Let me return for a moment to the story I opened with about my quiet partner in the car. If someone in my past gave me the silent treatment to punish me, or if they withdrew in anger without giving me the chance to address a mistake I made, I am more likely to return to that same explanation in the future. I’ll be quick to assume that a first-order reality in which someone is quiet is the same as a second-order reality that I’ll be left alone, unable to meet my basic needs. Such automatic story re-telling is adaptive in the short term. It can help any of us to live through unbearable pain, atrocity, or horror. But in the long term, when that same collapse happens over and over, it creates problems.
If I jump immediately to expressing the judgments and evaluations of my second-order reality, I risk writing my own assumptions and perspectives onto someone else who experiences the world differently. I don’t give them a chance to be who they are, I don’t see and value them, and I diminish our relationship. When groups or societies make this jump repeatedly, they set the groundwork for violence. In interpersonal relationships, abusers deny any reality other than their own. On a broader scale, that erasure of realities is the fuel for oppressive systems.
When people use perception checking statements to create space between the situation and the automatic story we tell about it, we do a few things. We lead with curiosity, signaling an openness to stories other than our own. In turn, when people share their stories, everyone involved increases their capacity to hold multiple realities at once. That capacity interrupts cycles of violence.
We also get feedback on our internal workings. And more importantly, we allow others to witness the scariest stories we tell ourselves, and to be tender with the wounds those stories signal. There’s power in that vulnerability.
As with all communication tools, perception checking statements need adaptation for context and circumstance. They’re not universal. This tool is a bit better suited for a culture in which some amount of directness is ok. It’s also unlikely to be a useful in an abusive relationship. In that situation, the abusive actor exploits rather than reciprocates vulnerability, so this way to build human connection won’t be effective.
I encourage you to try out a perception-checking statement sometime this week. If you’re up for it, drop a comment below to share how it went.
And if you or your organization want more tools to build thriving communities and a more just world, please reach out to me about my coaching and consulting programs.
Stay tuned for my next newsletter. It’ll be out on May 5. I’ll write about how organizations can skillfully tend to shame and grow belonging.
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