We live in an especially noisy age, and journalist Dan Lyons has had enough. In the first two sentences of this book he doesn’t beat around the bush: He asks that you, the reader, kindly shut the fuck up. In this easy-reading social-science book, Lyons argues that our quality of life would improve and we’d be happier if we resisted what he calls “overtalking.”
STFU is about more than shutting up, though. The problem of overtalking segues naturally into the problem of listening poorly, so this book also confronts that. Most people, even those who think they do, don’t absorb what others say. It’s unfortunate that so many people know the hurt of having some key thing about them or their lives forgotten, sometimes multiple times. Maybe we shouldn’t assume that the forgetting of people’s names is normal and inevitable. Fortunately, because poor listening and overtalking tend to go hand-in-hand, if one is managed, management of the other follows more easily.
The concept of being quiet and listening might seem straightforward. Isn’t it simply: Just don’t open your mouth? The answer is definitely a no. The problem is complex because overtalking and noise touch all parts of life. In conversation most of us can’t wait two beats before saying our piece. We’re self-centered and talk too much about ourselves. Lyons laments that we overtalk at home, in relationships, and at work. Our environment is sensory overload. Background music is inescapable. Screens accost us wherever we look, at gyms, on car dashboards and subways, in elevators—even in chair lifts and gondolas at ski areas. There are more movies and shows than we could ever hope to watch. Our world is severely deprived of silence.
But Lyons shows he’s a realist by recognizing that, unfortunately, our world isn’t going to get quieter. He knows mastering shutting up and listening actively is really difficult. In the beginning it requires a commitment to act better and a constant, conscious effort. Unfortunately, depending on the person (such as those with untreated ADHD), that commitment and effort may be forever necessary.
Lyons’s thesis makes a lot of sense, and each chapter enlightens, but he does have some blind spots. Controversially, he disagrees with talk therapy for marriages in trouble. An admitted overtalker, Lyons saw several marriage counselors with his exasperated wife and found doing so a waste of time. He explains that his marriage improved only when he stopped talking so much. Therefore, in his opinion, this is the winning strategy for all strained marriages, not counseling in which partners talk it out. Lyons embraces Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s advice to “be a little deaf” in marriage and extends that to also being mute. This isn’t an incorrect philosophy—plenty of smaller things are better left unsaid and ignored; listening well only ever strengthens relationships—it’s the speaking in absolutes, the blanket dismissal based solely on his personal experience that’s incorrect. As a counterpoint he devotes page time to the work of psychologist John Gottman—a fervent advocate of talking it out in marriage counseling—but it’s odd that Lyons could familiarize himself with Gottman’s compelling research yet remain so stubborn in his wildly biased personal opinion.
Later, in a section that seems to exist mainly so he can vent, Lyons praises the stiff upper lip of Queen Elizabeth. His point is that a silent and impassive leader is a powerful leader. In his view, quietly stripping Andrew of his title and settling the lawsuit against him without comment says more than an official statement. Regarding those royals who’ve publicly criticized the monarchy, Lyons doesn’t consider that the motivation behind criticism can be to inspire change. To him, it’s the worst kind of “overtalking”: airing of dirty laundry, “spewing opinions,” and “whining.” Silence is a powerful strategy for leaders and anyone in the public eye, and more need to use it, but it can be done to a fault, and in some cases remaining silent only guards a secret that allows dysfunction to persist. I argue that there’s power in silence that’s wielded carefully. A shrewd leader recognizes when it’s prudent to comment and when it’s prudent to stay silent.
Basically, Lyons tends toward black-and-white thinking on this topic: You can never shut up enough or for too long. This raises the question of whether he’s ever interacted with a bad conversationalist. Or understands the concepts of balance and moderation. I’m surprised he didn’t acknowledge the importance of maintaining a healthy back-and-forth in conversation so it feels satisfying and substantial. As with silence in leadership, Lyons doesn’t think about how shutting up in conversation can be done to a fault.
Fortunately, the book has enough of value to outweigh the drawbacks. One of the best parts is its forceful condemnation of social media. The internet calls great attention to how much we can’t control our talking (and then causes more of it with constant dopamine hits when others positively reinforce that overtalking). To bolster this point Lyons explains that pre-internet our lives were quieter, confined as they were to a manageable circle of mostly local contacts. Before travel our lives were quieter still, with a circle of contacts hyper-local and tiny to the point of familial. Now thanks to the internet that circle is gigantic and ever-growing, yet the brain hasn’t evolved to process the noise of so many chatty and highly stimulating interactions. We’re worse off for it.
Where social media is concerned, he endorses a strategy most would consider radical: silence as statement. In a time when countless people overshare their opinions and photos for attention, or express outrage over criticism, there’s power and dignity in restraint and silence. It’s also often more effective, as commenting on one’s personal controversy calls even more attention to it and prolongs it.
The challenge is getting comfortable with social-media disengagement knowing that doing so means being overlooked. Regarding that, Lyons digs (although briefly) into the heart of the matter: that incessant posting of thoughts and photos is a sign of not just insecurity but of a primal need to feel like one’s existence matters. The internet highlights people’s inability to shut the fuck up, but it advertises in big, flashing lights a wide-spread fear of feeling unimportant.
Conquering that fear is well worth it, though. Numerous studies have proven that for most people social media is more damaging than beneficial. We’re sadder, angrier, more anxious, and more pessimistic after using it. Viewing upsetting content and judging our lives against others’ highlight reels is pointed to as the reason for this, but could refusal to shut up online play a large role? Lyons would probably say yes. Quoting Peter Sagal, host of the Wait Wait . . . Don't Tell Me! game show on National Public Radio, Lyons writes, “You will and have regretted many tweets. You will never regret not tweeting.”
STFU is about cultivating healthy relationships of all sorts. Lyons was motivated to write this book because he found stopping his own overtalking and listening actively to be life-changing. He’s happier overall and more comfortable with himself, and he wishes this for his reader. There’s discomfort at first, as our default seems to be to overtalk and to only half listen, but if we can sit with the discomfort and cultivate a habit of shutting up, happiness follows.
NOTE: I received this as an advance finished copy from LibraryThing in March 2023.