When I was in my early teens, I was often invited round to a schoolfriend’s house for dinner. Her family struck me as wildly progressive: they were Danish and indulged in all sorts of “out-there” activities – fondues, candle-making and, most terrifying of all, the talking stick.
Before the meal was served, someone would retrieve the sacred broom handle and it would be passed around the table. You could speak only if you had possession of the stick. Despite it being the most stressful thing ever (it meant being in the spotlight, and then remembering to keep quiet the rest of the time), I now frequently yearn for a more convenient version of that stick.
For example, I met a friend recently who I see infrequently but keep up with via voice notes. No sooner had we sat down than he launched into a long discourse about his new marathon training food plan. He only broke the flow to order an omelette: “Four egg whites, two yolks, is that possible?” (We were in my local greasy spoon, so the request was greeted with mirth.) When we left, 90 minutes later, he finally had the grace to turn to me and ask: “And how are things with you?”
Walking home, I felt a mixture of disappointment and irritation. Had he always been so self-absorbed? So uninterested in anyone else? I couldn’t help wondering if our one-sided virtual updates had played a part in the problem.
There is a name for this type of egocentric behaviour – “conversational narcissism”. Although it was coined by the sociologist Charles Derber in his 1979 book The Pursuit of Attention, the term seems more relevant than ever. “WhatsApp communication and voice notes are really a series of monologues,” says Charlotte Fox Weber, a psychotherapist. “In face-to-face situations, people are forgetting how to pause naturally, to make space to hear and listen. And people are chatting on the phone – an activity that at least requires turn-taking in a defined way – much less often.”
A lot of our communication online can feel weirdly transactional, focused on logistics or niche WhatsApp groups. According to Tamu Thomas, a life coach and author, this has damaged the art of improvised conversation. “People have less capacity for meandering conversations that don’t have a purpose,” she says. “A good dialogue is a back-and-forth between two people discovering new things about each other, even if they have known each other for years. Because there are now so many different channels available to stay in touch, some people are confusing communication with connection.”
Knowledge is power, though. If you can recognise the five types of common conversation hogger, it will be much easier to handle them.
The serial monologuist
We have all come across this one – the person who, like the Ariston washing machine in the 90s advert, just goes on and on and on. “It’s not only that these people feel the need to dominate the conversation; they often select topics that are not necessarily meaningful for anyone else. For example, it might be cathartic for someone to share the granular detail of their lost luggage or their dishwasher leak, but it has no value for anyone else,” says Fox Weber.
For Jane and her partner, Ian, dinner parties at his best friend’s home have become an ordeal. “It’s his wife,” groans Jane. “We don’t have children; they have three. We have to brace ourselves for her monologues that cover everything from school trips to football trophies and, worst of all, their various ailments. I sit there with a fixed grin, wondering how long I can reasonably pretend to be fascinated by someone else’s child’s orthodontic treatment. It’s even worse when they invite other couples, usually fellow parents. Then it becomes a game of monologue ping-pong. It’s not easy finding a gap in the conversation when I can mention that I have had a perfectly interesting time lately – going to films or the theatre, and reading great books.”
Sarah Rozenthuler is a psychologist and dialogue coach, and the author of Now We’re Talking and several other books focused on how to have meaningful conversations. She suggests taking a counterintuitive approach. “Try time-boxing them. Tell yourself you are going to give the person your full attention for a certain amount of time, say five minutes, or 10 if you can stand it. Abandon all expectations about having your own say. Allowing the other person to feel fully heard usually helps them to settle down a bit.”
When the time is up, she suggests deliberately redirecting the chat, without shutting the other person down. “So you might say something like: ‘Well, that’s really interesting, and it reminds me of …’ and then share something from your own experience, or change the topic altogether.” She believes this strategy works on two levels. It lets you speak, and it’s a reminder that each of us needs to take responsibility for maintaining a two-way conversation, rather than sitting there seething like a helpless bystander.
The trauma dumper
The trauma dumper loves nothing better than a session of oversharing with no boundaries and no thought for how it might land with others.
Phoebe’s friend Andrew falls into this category. “I’ve seen other people blossom and grow through therapy – but for Andrew, it’s given him licence to overshare and not listen to others. His booming voice is always the loudest in the room. Nothing is off limits, from lurid details of his one-night stands to the long-running feud he has been having with his mother since the age of four.
“For me, the lowest point was in a restaurant when he shared the intimate details of his vasectomy. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he repeated the story at a dinner party I attended with several of our friends, including his ex. I didn’t know where to look. I have no idea how to rein him in, because I feel that if I tackle him about the oversharing directly, he might turn that into a trauma drama to share with others as well.”
Thomas suggests interrogating what is really bothering you about such a dynamic. Are you feeling used? What do you want from the relationship, if anything? She says: “I had a friend like this and I realised that what I wanted was her to contact me during the good times, not only the crises. I asked her to phone me when things were going really well, for example sharing the funny thing that happened at work that day. It was scary, but saying, ‘I really want to be part of your joy as well as your struggle,’ was a lot more productive than angrily accusing her of dumping all her problems at my door. Eventually, we were able to have a more constructive relationship.”
The boomerasker
For those unfamiliar with the term, boomerasking is posing a question so you can talk next. My friend Emma often complains about a colleague at work who falls into this category. She says: “Every Monday morning, without fail, he will ask me: ‘Good weekend? What did you get up to?’ But his fake question is a ruse to allow him to boast about all the amazing things he did. It makes me feel boring, and at the same time manipulated – not a great combo.”
Boomerasking was first identified in a study co-authored by Michael Yeomans, associate professor of behavioural science at Imperial College. “A boomerask is a question that boomerangs right back to you,” he says. “There are three types of boomerask. The first is the ‘ask-brag’, where I have something exciting I want to tell you, such as: ‘I went to France for the weekend.’ Then there’s the ‘ask-complaint’. That’s when I might ask: ‘How was your journey into work?’ You might answer, only for me to go into great detail about how the tube was packed, there was an accident, someone spilled coffee on my shoe. And then there’s the ‘ask-share’, where I ask for your opinion about something, but I’m not listening – I’m waiting for a break so I can jump in and share my opinion. In all three cases, the perceived sincerity of the question hooks people in.”
How can we take back control? “Our research shows that boomeraskers think they are being helpful and inclusive. So, if the other person is important to you, know that there will be plenty of time to have your say later. You may feel their interest in you is only superficial, but their interest in communicating something with you is certainly genuine. That’s worth celebrating.
“The other thing our research has shown is that ‘mirror questions’ take the sting out of the exchange. Next time a boomerasker enquires about your commute, mumble something vague and then ask with great enthusiasm about their journey.”
So it takes the sting out of it because if you don’t give them a real answer, then you haven’t wasted your energy on someone who isn’t interested? “Yeah, and also crucially, they can’t cut you off.” It won’t necessarily shut the boomerasker up, but if you feel more in control, you will find them less annoying.
If none of this helps? “If you want to have some fun, boomerask them back, and see how they react,” suggests Yeomans.
The interrupter
Interrupters are easy to spot but difficult to confront. When Jo was made redundant, she started meeting up for coffee with a former colleague. “I thought she could give me a bit of moral support and, crucially, a reason to get out of the house.” However, these sessions soon proved unsatisfying.
“What I really wanted was someone to confide in about the unfairness of my job loss, and my fears about being 55 and unemployed.” But the friend proved to be an unexpectedly aggressive listener, cutting Jo off at every turn with: “Have you thought about retraining? My friend is earning a fortune now.” Or: “The thing you need to do now is find out about how to outwit the applicant tracking systems. If I lost my job, what I would do is blah blah blah.” But Jo didn’t want advice, and the constant interruptions made her feel belittled. She just wanted someone to listen.
How can we get an interrupter to mend their ways? “It depends on how much you like the person,” says Fox Weber. “It’s not always a bad trait: it can come from a kind of skittishness, a desire for the conversation not to go meandering off-piste. But it can create chaos, because the interrupter is imposing their will on what should be a collaborative dialogue, and breaking the flow.”
Fox Weber says the interrupter is much easier to handle in a group setting. “That allows you to advocate for other people. If you see it happening, don’t leave it to the interrupted person to defend their space. If another person jumps in to Person A’s story and steers the chat in another direction, you can be the one who stops it. You might say: ‘Wait – she’s telling a story. Let her finish it.’ You can say it nicely.”
What if it’s a one-on-one situation? “It’s harder, but you can still insist the other person step back, by saying: ‘Hey, I’m still telling my story.’ Then get back to what you were saying, even if you’ve lost the flow.”
The care bear
The care bear’s idea of small talk is to launch into a mini Ted Talk about how they are campaigning against AI datacentres, sewage pollution or world hunger. What they are definitely not here for is a bit of banter.
“I’ve got a neighbour like this, and I’m not proud of it but I have been known to dive into the corner shop to avoid them if I see them coming,” says Lauren. “She will approach me with a tilt of the head, look deep into my eyes and ask: ‘How are you, really?’ If I don’t have anything deep and meaningful to share, which I never do, that will be her cue to start on one of her important causes – the state of social care in the borough, food banks, homeless people. This is going to make me sound like a bad person but … she is so boring. Not to mention hard to escap once she’s in full flow.”
This type is particularly maddening because they occupy the moral high ground. What’s the best way to deal with them? “Try saying, as genuinely and sincerely as possible, something like: ‘I can understand your concern about XYZ, and I, too, really hope there’s going to be some change or improvement,’” says Rozenthuler. “Then change the subject. It’s not about being brutal and brisk. It’s about being kind, acknowledging the person but then moving on. This type of person is often stuck in a groove and it’s going to take a lot more than you or I have capacity for to help them get out of it.” Actually, I think I may have a solution. Where did I leave that broomstick?
• Names and identifying details have been changed
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