As social people, we love to give advice. “You should do this.” “You shouldn’t do that.” “The prof’s an easy grader. Just study the worksheet.” “You should buy that car.” But do you ever know all the facts? Do you see only a simplified situation with essential facts removed? Is your friend asking for advice or asking for hope? There’s a difference. Hope is the meta-fuel of well-being, giving comfort and peace in times of distress. Is your friend asking for the advice they want to hear? For something they’ve considered but needs confirmation? For a go-sign?
We, the
advice-givers, all too often venture into homespun psychology. Not good,
mostly because we don’t know any.
Among the biggest advice-givers are friends,
parents, pastors, and teachers. For younger persons, parental advice is often
rejected, but the other three are on the spot.
Because, if they give advice, they must accept some responsibility if it
is accepted. The pastor hopefully limits advice to simple homilies on living or
church teachings. Teachers are safe if the advice is about the course. Friends
are the most liable of all. They shovel it out by the carload and it’s hardly
limited by knowledge.
One
problem with giving advice is you must accept some responsibility if it’s taken.
As a teacher and administrator, I’m asked for
advice all the time. Often, the student is not doing well, and just as often it
is because the student doesn’t study enough. What I usually do is simply talk
the student into discovering their own problems and resolving them. Do you
study enough? Do you come to class? Did you buy the book? Did you go to the
help session? And so on… As instructors, we are advised by trained counselors
not to give personal advice. It’s risky, even libelous. Students are often
personally troubled by problem-types we have long forgotten.
Should you give advice? It’s a judgment call,
but you can be just a friend, pastor, or teacher and offer some comfort, maybe
a little tough love, or suggest self-reflection. After all, if they’re smart
enough to be your friend, they’re smart enough to think things through.
If you’re a parent, I feel your pain. As a commencement speaker recently said to the
new grads, “I have lots of advice to give you; my kids didn’t take any of it.”
Don’t be like Aunt Syl in the film This
Happy Breed, 1949, who lives only to give critique and advice to everyone,
even those not listening.
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