Getting to "No"

On The Kindness of Straightforward Rejection

During the pandemic, I was set up on a date with a woman I didn’t know. We each made a cocktail and talked over Zoom for about an hour. To prepare, I ironed my shirt, tidied up my kitchen, got a little nervous, and when it came time for the video chat, we had a good time. We talked longer than I expected and I really enjoyed the conversation. I also did not feel a romantic attraction.

A few days later, she got in touch and asked for another date. I spent a day in dread, worried about how best to respond. Then I gritted my teeth, and wrote an email telling her I’d rather not have another date, but to keep me in mind for any gatherings or parties she was planning, once things got “back to normal”. I tried to tell her as directly and kindly as possible that I was available for friendship, not romance. I never heard from her again.

I have to conclude from her silence that my blunt response made her upset. Hopefully, she got over that quickly. My directness was intended as much for her benefit as mine. Why waste her time? I remain haunted by that experience, and other similar moments, and its a big part of why I’ve avoided online dating or blind dates for the last several years. I don’t (I think) fear being rejected. I’m terrified of rejecting, and I find I can’t even enjoy dates, because I’m worried about how I’m going to tell this person “no” if they’re interested in more. If they reject me, I’m relieved. (Is this neurotic? Yes. I’m working on it.)

I bring this up to acknowledge that it can be hard to tell people “no”. It’s also really important. On this blog, I write a fair amount about the podcasting, radio, and journalism industry, and plan to write more about freelance life and my work as a story editor. And in the freelance journalism world, I sense people really struggle to say “no” when they should, and I think it’s a problem. My sense is the problem is getting worse, but that may be the simple biases of nostalgia, selective memory, and the creeping advance of middle age.

I think one could write a whole book about it (and I have a killer title, Getting to “No”. Publishers, let’s talk.) If you’re a freelancer, you’re constantly pitching ideas, collaborations, writing queries, writing grants, asking for meetups, etc. And, if you’re having some success, chances are you’re probably fielding pitches, requested collaborations, requests for consulting, requests for speaking. It’s tough to manage the fine and complex network of relationships and queries that make up a freelance life, and I think any freelancer will tell you that a simple “no” in response to a query is a gift.

When Ambiguous “Nos” Attack!

Simple “nos” in my experience are rare. Instead, there’s a tendency to get messages that imply “no” but leave a certain doubt about whether one is getting a “real” no, or just a “maybe”, or if they’re asking for more information. A few “Ambiguous Rejections” that are common in my line of work. (I’m not without sin, I’m likely guilty of all three):

Respond to One of Three Questions in an Email

I might write somebody and ask:

Do you think your magazine would be interested in this series about new State Parks?Do you have time to talk about the idea? Can you think of anybody else I should query?

It would be great to get a message back like this:

Hi Jesse, I’m afraid we’re not interested in that at the moment, and I don’t have time to talk in the coming weeks. I do think you could reach out to [NAME of GRANTMAKING ORGANIZATION OR MAGAZINE].

Good luck, it’s a neat idea.

That would be a GREAT response. Direct. Polite. Encouraging. Clear boundaries. Actionable.

Instead, this is the more likely response:

Jesse, I think you should reach out to [NAME of GRANTMAKING ORGANIZATION OR MAGAZINE].

Ok, maybe this person thinks that by not answering the other two questions, I should assume the answer is “no”. But I tend to take things literally, and I don’t assume that. Maybe they’re checking their calendar, or maybe they’re going to bring up the idea in a pitch meeting. It makes me wonder. Should I write back and ask “What about the other two questions?” Would that be agressive?

Again, it may be my own biases, but I feel like I was more likely to get this wishy washy response when I lived, and worked in the Midwest or when I interacted with Midwesterners. I’m sure there are people from all regions who don’t like to say “no” but in my experience, the problem is particularly endemic to the Midwest. (But the Midwest has great food and architecture, so heeeeyyyy).

Just Don’t Respond

This happens a lot. And maybe I’m supposed to assume that if I don’t hear anything, the answer is “no.” But really, can you just say “No thanks?” Because when I don’t get a response my mind goes lots of places:

“Maybe they didn’t get the email. Maybe it went to a spam filter. Should I text? Should I send from another account. Should I ask a mutual friend to check in?”

“Was I agressive? Does this mean they don’t want me to ever pitch an idea again? Are we not speaking? Do I need to avoid them if I see them at a conference.”

Or sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly grumpy: “What an asshole! They obviously feel like I’m unworthy of their attention.”

I think one possibility for this is the person sees the pitch comes in, and actually doesn’t know what they think about it at the moment. So they don’t respond. Then they forget, or (and I KNOW THIS IS A THING) they feel guilty about not responding, which creates anxiety on their part, which they avoid, by ignoring the problem.

So, here’s a response if you find yourself in that situation:

“Jesse, I’m overwhelmed, and I don’t know the answer at the moment. I’ve set a time on my calendar to respond with a definitive response. If you need to move on to somebody else, I understand.”

Or…

“Jesse, I owe you a response on this, but I’m a little overwhelmed, and I’m not sure. I guess you can take that as a ‘no’ for now, but you’d be welcome to ping me in [time period] in case things change.”

These aren’t AMAZING responses to get, but at least I know where I stand, and can act accordingly. And I appreciate the transparency.

I’ve set a reminder to send this out every two monts, randomly, so I’m not subtweeting anybody.

“I’ll Pitch It at Our Meeting but I Think it’s a Long Shot”

Then why pitch it? There are only two reasons I can think of:

1. You don’t want to be the person to say “no”, you want to spread the guilt around.

2. You think maybe somebody on the team will like the idea more than you will.

Is it really number 2? I’m guessing probably not, but here’s the problem: I’m not sure. So I keep waiting for a response just in case somebody on your team might think it’s a good idea. And three weeks later, I’m thinking “Should I reach out about that pitch meeting?”

A Serious Question

Does anybody in freelance journalism (or other similar fields requiring lots of proposals) actually disagree with me about the value of saying “no” when you mean “no”. Is the problem me? Should I be better at taking a hint? Am I asking too many questions? I’d love to hear a sincere defense of polite ambiguity if anybody can muster one. Comment below.

Action Item

So, is there somebody who you owe a “no” to at the moment? If so, take one minute and tell them. Politely, directly, and kindly. You’ll feel better about it. (or maybe not, but at least it will be resolved). And if it’s directed at me, know that I’ll take it as a gift. (You tasteless jerk.)