'A man's character may be learned from the adjectives which he habitually uses in conversation.'
Mark Twain

I have occasionally thought that, were I of a more academic disposition, I would have enjoyed studying the art of conversation. 

It’s always interested me how some discussions – amongst certain people and in particular circumstances - run on fluently, without pause or hesitation, ranging enjoyably across subjects and themes; while other conversations stagger and stumble, falter and fail.

What is the appropriate balance of listening and talking? When is it best to pursue a subject or change it? What is the most productive combination of big and small themes, serious and light topics?

These questions would all form part of my dissertation.

'Polite conversation is rarely either.'
Fran Lebowitz

I recently read an article about the dynamics of chat. (‘Why Conversations are Better with Four People,’ The Times, 12 June)

Professor Robin Dunbar, an anthropologist and evolutionary psychologist at the University of Oxford, has established that the natural upper limit of most discussions tends to be four people.

‘You very rarely get more than four people in a conversation. In the normal run of things, when a fifth person joins a group, it’ll become two conversations within about 20 seconds.’

Alternatively, the addition of a fifth person takes the discussion into a ‘lecture situation’, whereby one person holds court and the other participants switch to audience mode. 

Dunbar explains that when we talk we strive at the same time to read each other’s thoughts; to see the world from each other’s perspectives. This process of ‘mentalising’ helps us navigate comprehension through the imprecise language, vague metaphors and ambiguous phrases of ordinary speech.

Since we can only track what a few people are likely to be thinking at any one time, there are limits on the number of participants in a vibrant discussion. This is why, Dunbar observes, Shakespeare rarely had more than four significant characters speaking in one scene.

'Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.’
Oscar Wilde

We may recognise this phenomenon from countless dinner parties. 

I confess that when we’re hosting an event I get a little uncomfortable if the discussion splinters and fragments - taking it as an indication that something is flawed in the well-planned social chemistry. Like a nervous sheepdog, I try to corral the conversation back around one theme. But then inevitably I lose control, or risk slipping into ‘lecture mode’ with one of my rusty gambits. It’s very stressful…

'Wit is the salt of conversation, not the food.'
William Hazlitt

Dunbar’s study also has implications in the world of work. 

In the course of my career in advertising, I’m sure there was a good deal of Meeting Inflation: over the years my diary filled up with more meetings, in more formats, attended by more people. There were brainstorms, status meetings and team-building sessions; catch-ups, check-ins and kick-offs; information sharing workshops, planning conferences and performance reviews. And most of these gatherings were attended by more than four people.

With hindsight I think we were endeavouring to break from the traditions of top-down, didactic leadership: seeking to achieve broader representation across disciplines and hierarchies; aiming to make decisions more collegiate. But one has to wonder about the effectiveness of some of these sessions. 

Modern leaders need to be alert to the challenges of Meeting Inflation - mindful that despite the commendable demands for participation and partnership, robust debate and sound decision-making require fewer, not more, attendees. 

If we can reduce Meeting Inflation, perhaps we can raise interest rates.


'I can tell by your eyes
That you've probably been crying forever,
And the stars in the sky don't mean nothing to you,
They're a mirror.
I don't want to talk about it,
How you broke my heart.
If I stay here just a little bit longer,
If I stay here, won't you listen to my heart?’

Everything But the Girl, 'I Don’t Want to Talk About It’ (D Whitten)

No. 427