When a stranger on an elevator suddenly burst into tears, Vanessa Bohns' father-in-law later felt ashamed that, not knowing how to react, he said nothing. During her own father's final months of life, Bohns helped him plan trips that she knew he wouldn't be able to take - helping maintain a sense of hope by leaving that reality unspoken.
In a new book, "Should I Say Something? The Science of What to Share - And What to Keep to Yourself" (Hachette 2026), Bohns, the Braunstein Family Professor and chair of the Department of Organizational Behavior in the ILR School, offers a guide for navigating such challenging situations based on her own and others' research. From seemingly minor matters - should you tell a friend what you think of their haircut? - to higher-stakes dilemmas - should you tell a friend their spouse is cheating on them? - many fear a wrong move risks painful consequences.
"The goal of this book," Bohns writes, "is to offer a research-based road map to help people make better decisions about when to say something and when to keep it to themselves, so that everyone can experience fewer moments of regret (like my father-in-law in the elevator), and more moments of connection (like my father and I at the end of his life)."
Bohns discussed the book with the Chronicle.
Question: Why do people struggle so much with whether to say something?
Answer: These sorts of dilemmas threaten our sense of belonging, which is one of the most fundamental human needs. We care about other people. We want to know them, and we want them to know us. That desire pushes us in the direction of wanting to say something - wanting to open up or ask personal questions.
But then we worry that we might say something we shouldn't have and end up putting our foot in our mouth. In that case, we may end up accidentally pushing people away or being rejected - which is of course the exact opposite of what we want. Add to that the current trend of giving every behavior a pathologizing label (sadfishing! success bombing! trauma dumping!) and it can make everyday decisions about whether to say something feel incredibly high stakes and fraught.
Q: You review many relatable scenarios in each chapter, from "Should I be honest?" to "Should I say I love you?" Is there one strategy that applies broadly to help people do the right thing?
A: There are a few, but here are two of my favorites: One is to take a long-term view. We often base our decisions about whether to say something on the discomfort we feel right now - either the discomfort we anticipate feeling if we were to say something, or the discomfort we feel when we know something and keep it to ourselves. But in most cases the answer becomes clearer when we think long term: What are the long-term costs and benefits of saying something? Also, what are the long-term costs and benefits of not saying something?
The other is to trust other people to manage their own emotions. One of the best ways to do so is to ask them directly what they are comfortable hearing from you in a given moment. For example, you could ask someone if they are open to feedback on something, or open to hearing about something difficult going on in your life. Asking gives people the opportunity to tell you whether they are open to having that conversation in that moment. If they are, you can proceed knowing they've welcomed the conversation.
And if they aren't, you can feel good about honoring their autonomy by holding back, while leaving the door open to revisit the conversation another time. The key to honoring their autonomy, however, is to ask in a way that makes them feel they can actually say no, for example, by giving them the words to say no, such as, "If you'd rather not have this conversation right now, just tell me now's not a good time."
Q: What's a common mistake people make when assessing the risk of saying something?
A: Too often we assume we are dealing with an either/or situation. For example, if someone asks for your feedback and you feel put on the spot in that moment, it can feel like you have just two options: brutal honesty or blatant lying.
In reality, however, there are usually more than two options. You can take time to reflect before answering, ask what kind of feedback would be most useful, or offer feedback that is both honest and kind by focusing on how they can improve going forward. You don't have to reduce your feedback to "I didn't really like it" or "It was great." That's a false choice.
Q: What's an example of how you've applied this research to achieve a better outcome?
A: I use the advice from my first chapter on giving feedback practically every day as a mentor and an educator. It has shaped the way I give students feedback and how I train my teaching assistants to do the same. Whenever possible, I make it my goal to give feedback that is future-oriented rather than backward-looking. For example, if I'm grading a paper, instead of focusing on why a student lost points ("You lost points for failing to include a definition here"), I try to explain what they could do differently to earn more points on a future assignment ("To earn full credit on the next assignment, be sure to define the concept before applying it"). I've found this approach is not only better received by students but more rewarding to use because it puts the emphasis on growth and improvement.
Q: On balance, do we say too much, or not enough?
A: In many of the situations I cover in the book, I'd say not enough. All things considered, we tend to overestimate the risks and underestimate the benefits of sharing good news, personal struggles, apologies and feedback with other people. We overweight the downsides of people's reactions to the things we share (for example, envy, disappointment), underweight the upsides (for example, closeness, growth), and fail to appreciate that the upsides and downsides can coexist. Someone can feel a pang of envy and still want to celebrate your good news, or find feedback difficult to hear and still appreciate receiving it.
