This is the title of a 1989 comedy movie directed by Arthur Miller, about the shenanigans of two characters – one of them deaf and the other blind – both are suspected of committing a murder, and must help each other prove their innocence, the first one lending his hearing, and the latter – his vision. Initially, the situation seems parodic and exaggerated to create material for comedy, but if taken for a metaphor, this situation may actually be more common than it seems.

In NLP (Natural Language Processing) we call the ways in which we collect, store and code the information caught by our senses, a representational system. There are three different systems: visual, auditory, and kinaesthetic. Obviously, we all utilise all three systems, but in varying proportions, and we tend to identify and filter through reality emphasising one of the three.

Thereby, for a “visual person”, images dominate, and they see reality, talk with a tendency to illustrate. To them, ideas seem brilliant, dark, big, small, remote… They may have dark days, in which it seems like someone has given them the evil eye, or like someone has put the wool over their eyes. They may also have bright days, full of colours, when things just fall into place. They have a panoramic view of what others want to say, they can zoom in on the details, and visualise a scale of greys – because life is not black and white, even if you paint it pink. In other words, their brains are full of moving images, which the words must follow in an attempt to catch up. Hence their tendency to fast speech and somewhat shallow breathing.

For an “auditory person”, sounds and literal associations take the front seat. Things are harmonic or squeaky, they sound like double Dutch, or like music to their ears, unless they play deaf, or if it rings a bell, they may request explanations or explain things word by word, focus on the tone of their interlocutor or on their silent pauses, qualify something unheard of, or applaud it for being in tune, hitting all the right notes, resonating. Here we see a pattern with more expressive and resonating words, and full chest breathing.

For a “kinaesthetic person”, sensory experiences take the lead. They have heated conversations, or frosty dialogues, subjects are discussed with varying tact and equilibrium, they can become tiring, or give someone goosebumps. One can feel pressured of harsh comments that sting… Decisions may weight on them, or they can take things lightly, even if the situation seems rough, because they always manage to soften the blow, and vent out their feelings. In other words, they feel infinite sensations which they deliver with many pauses, allowing time for sensory perception, breathing deeply and “from the stomach”, as people tend to say.

It may be easy to think about these different types of people as three friends trying to navigate a problem. The visual person asking their friends – what does this seem to you? – the kinaesthetic asking what it feels like, and the auditory one asking if it sounds good. Each one of them wrapped up in their own perception, while their questions don’t resonate with the rest, short-circuiting empathy. Of course, it’s easy to think about the other person by asking questions taking their representational system under consideration and have a favourable effect on the unfolding of their opinions, and utilising the diversity of sensibilities. Doing so feels completely different, it has a different vibe.

But still, because we receive opinions from others, and our own empathy is limited by our own representational system, unless we maximised the development of our sensory base (visual, auditory, kinaesthetic), and had a truly fluid and dynamic access to these three forms of representation, enabling a more integrated and global perception of reality. Achieving what could be referred to as a higher representational plasticity, in which empathy would be facilitated, and our experiences richer and more complete. Perhaps these three systems, freed from dissociation and hierarchies, would become a sort of “internal musketeers” – “All for one, and one for all”. And, because the internal causes synergy, perhaps we would even see, hear, and feel better, and we wouldn’t need to shout at each other to be seen.

Love at first sight? And at first hearing, and at first touch.

 

David García

Strategic Research Consultant