It was freezing in Christchurch this morning and Mrs Bish decided she couldn’t face the bike ride to work so I dropped her in. She had a wee stumble moment as she hopped out of the car, I wound down the window and called out: “Bitterman!” (bonus points to anyone who can identify the slightly obscure reference!).
That got me thinking – firstly that I hope I don’t have a heart attack today and that ends up being the last thing I said to her! But secondly, about the fact that after 35 years together (we started young!) Mrs Bish instantly understood the context. No offence taken and no confusion. Just another small moment inside the strange little ecosystem of humour, affection, sarcasm and shared history that makes up a close and long-term relationship.
It struck me just how much of human interaction is built on invisible and unspoken contracts.
Not legal contracts, written agreements or formal relationship contracts. But rather the unspoken understandings we develop with the people around us that quietly shape what is acceptable, what is funny, what is caring, what is respectful and what “normal” looks like between us.
The fascinating thing is that these contracts are rarely discussed openly. We absorb them over time through shared experience, social cues, reactions, affection, conflict, disappointment, culture and observation (talking of disappointment – those who know me will know I really wanted some better alliteration in that sentence!). We learn what gets rewarded, what gets frowned upon and what tends to get us into trouble. Eventually these little understandings become woven into the fabric of all our relationships and we stop really noticing they even exist.
Yet the rules constantly change depending on context. A kid burps at the breakfast table and the family bursts out laughing but the same behaviour at a formal dinner party when Mum is hosting her team? A very different outcome…
The language we use watching rugby with mates may differ dramatically from the language we use at a funeral. The humour that works brilliantly inside one marriage might create carnage in another.
Unfortunately none of this comes with a handbook. We simply expect people to “get it”. This is likely one of the reasons human beings are simultaneously wonderful, confusing and occasionally exhausting.
And perhaps this is where things start getting complicated.
I think the compensation for getting older and having more chins and less hair, is the fact that we get to develop our ability to tune into and interpret the signals from one another. The other benefit of getting older is you can occasionally get away with bending the social rules more than you could when you were younger! But generally, most of us are still monitoring and interpreting the cues of others.
Some are obvious. Many are not. And we often respond to what we ‘imagine’ the cues mean.
A delayed text reply. A slightly flat tone. A warm smile at the end of a difficult conversation. Someone remembering a tiny detail you mentioned weeks ago. Someone forgetting it entirely.
Most of us like to believe we communicate our needs (contract requirements) clearly, but in reality we are constantly hinting, nudging, testing, withdrawing, rewarding and reacting (happier with that alliteration!). We raise an eyebrow. We go quiet or become sarcastic. We work harder hoping someone notices or become colder and more distant, hopeful someone might notice and ask what’s wrong.
Underneath all of this sits a strange and often fragile hope that the people around us will somehow actually see us and correctly interpret all those little signals we send out.
Sometimes they do but sometimes not so much. Sometimes – carnage. Often because the people involved are operating from entirely different versions of an unspoken contract.
Which, perhaps unsurprisingly for someone in recruitment, eventually got me thinking about the workplace (look, I eventually got to the work bit!).
In the recruitment and leadership world there’s a concept called the psychological contract. It refers to the unwritten expectations that exist between employers and employees beyond the formal employment agreement.
I’ve always found that idea fascinating because the official employment agreement itself is actually quite clinical when you think about it. It tells us about salary, annual leave, notice periods and duties. Necessary and important things. Legal obligations.
But very few people leave jobs as a result of what was written on page six under subsection four. More often they leave because of a misalignment in what they believed the relationship was supposed to feel like.
They thought loyalty would be reciprocated and their extra effort would matter. They thought honesty and observation would be rewarded. They thought flexibility, trust or appreciation was mutual and formed part of the deal.
Sometimes it’s the other way around and the employer thought exactly the same thing about them. I suspect a huge amount of workplace tension, family conflict and relationship breakdown actually sits in this space between expectation, interpretation and reality.
This is the thing about invisible contracts.
I don’t think things typically go wrong because people are necessarily bad or selfish, but because human beings often create entire contracts inside their own heads and quietly expect others to honour them without ever fully explaining the terms.
We use assumption, projection and what psychologists sometimes refer to as magical thinking.
“If they loved me, they would just know.”
“If I work hard enough, surely someone will notice.”
“If I keep giving, eventually it will come back.”
“If I avoid conflict, things will improve on their own.”
And when the relationship no longer feels balanced, over time the signals begin to change. Disappointment alters tone, which changes the feel of our interactions. Those interactions shape trust, and trust in turn influences behaviour. And our behaviour creates ripples that spread through families, workplaces, friendships and cultures.
Sadly, this often happens long before anyone consciously realises what’s going on and relationships start to break down.
Of course, there’s another complication.
What compounds the problem and is perhaps the greatest challenge is that these unspoken contracts are not fixed because people are not fixed.
Human beings are wonderfully inconsistent creatures. We grow, evolve, mature, harden, soften, heal (and occasionally unravel a little). What felt acceptable to us ten years ago may no longer fit who we are becoming now.
I suspect this is why some relationships deepen beautifully over time while others slowly drift into confusion and resentment. One person quietly starts renegotiating the contract while the other is still working from the original version.
Generally not consciously, seldom maliciously and often almost invisibly.
In a relationship this could be one person craving freedom while the other is craving reassurance. One wants growth while the other longs for stability. One is trying to rediscover themselves while the other simply wants things to stay safe and familiar.
And because humans are complicated, we often try to renegotiate these invisible contracts indirectly rather than openly. We simply begin signalling them indirectly and hope the other person notices and responds appropriately.
There’s an old adage that men marry hoping their partner never changes, whilst women marry, seeing potential and hoping their partner eventually will. Whilst that’s a bit archaic in modern culture, like many old jokes, there’s probably just enough truth hidden inside it to keep it alive through the generations.
Not because either side is wrong, but because relationships are rarely static things. They are living and evolving systems constantly adapting to changing needs, pressures, identities and expectations.
And perhaps nowhere is this more obvious than in culture itself.
Cultural conflict can emerge so easily. Much of what we call “normal” is actually socially constructed through shared understandings inside families, workplaces, communities and cultures. What feels respectful in one environment may feel cold in another. What feels direct in one culture may feel rude in another. What feels humorous to one person may feel deeply offensive to someone else (which is where my irreverence as a gen-x’er occasionally gets me into trouble!).
Most of the time we simply expect people to instinctively understand the rules which is a remarkably complicated way to run a species when you think about it.
Which oddly enough brings me back to yelling “Bitterman!” out the car window this morning. A little moment in time. But one that is perhaps also a tiny example of two people spending decades slowly learning one another’s language. Testing boundaries, repairing misunderstandings and building trust. Adjusting expectations, creating humour and developing a clarity that often only makes sense inside the strange little private universe of our relationship.
There are undoubtedly marriages where the exact same comment would have landed very differently and this is precisely the point. There is no universal handbook for human relationships. No perfectly agreed set of rules that tells us what every interaction should mean. Much of what we call “normal” is simply a collection of shared understandings negotiated clunkily, messily and non-verbally over time between imperfect people trying their best to connect with one another and quietly avoid conflict and mutual embarrassment.
The trouble begins when we assume those understandings are obvious to everyone else which is perhaps why clarity matters so much.
Not clinical clarity or the legalistic clarity of an employment contract.
Human clarity.
The courage to occasionally pause and ask “What expectations are we both carrying here?”, “What does this relationship need from us now?”.
Perhaps the greatest breakthroughs in relationships occur not when somebody wins the argument, but when both people finally understand the invisible contract they were each trying to honour all along.
About the Author
Rob Bishop is the Director of Bishop Associates, a Christchurch-based executive search and recruitment consultancy known for its values-driven, people-first approach. With over 25 years’ experience in recruitment, leadership assessment and governance advisory, Rob and his team work closely with boards and leaders on CEO & senior appointments, executive alignment, generalist recruitment and human resource needs; supporting long-term organisational success.