The Truest Sign of Connection

A note to young leaders.

My father was a connoisseur of crowds. He read a room full of strangers the way some men read a chessboard: slowly, with relish, and three moves ahead of everyone else.

One evening, in a restaurant, he nodded towards two couples. The first were doing the full production: eyes locked, hands entwined, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

The second were laughing. Teasing each other affectionately, but with the merciless accuracy of the longly-acquainted.

Which one, he asked, is the more loving couple?

My father’s money was on the laughing couple.

Whispering is what you do at the beginning, when everything must be declared because nothing has yet been proven. Laughter is what’s left when the proving is done.

To joke with someone is to possess a detailed map of them: where they are sensitive, where they are vain, where the open wounds lie and how close you may approach without treading on them. Done well, teasing says: I know your follies and insecurities, and you’re totally safe with me.

The most loving couple in a restaurant is rarely the pair staring into each other’s eyes. It’s more likely the pair that’s rolling them.