Stop shifting the spotlight and start supporting the speaker

Most of us think we’re being helpful when we jump in with our own tale. A friend says, “I lost my job,” and out pops your story about layoffs in 2019. That’s a shift response. It pulls the focus back to you, often closing the door on what they were finally ready to say. A support response, in contrast, keeps the floor with the speaker. “What’s the hardest part to handle right now?” invites more, and people usually step through the opening.

You can feel the difference in your body. Shift responses create a mild tug-of-war, voices quicken, and someone reaches for their phone. Support responses slow the pace, soften faces, and you hear more specific details, like the moment their manager asked them to step into a tiny glass room. Those are the clues you need to truly understand, and later, to be useful.

One micro-anecdote: in a stand-up, an engineer said, “The deploy felt weird.” A manager replied, “We’ve all had weird deploys.” Shrugs. Next day, a crash. Contrast that with, “What felt weird, exactly?” which would have surfaced the unreviewed config.

Social science labels this conversational habit: conversational narcissism versus supportive listening. Support responses work because they reduce self-focus in the speaker’s brain and increase elaboration. They also fit with active listening models where you seek meaning before offering evaluation. It’s not about never sharing—it’s about sequencing your sharing after you’ve helped them finish their story.

In your next conversation, notice your first impulse to jump in with your own example and let it pass. Ask a short, neutral support prompt like “What was the tricky part?” or “How did you decide?” and mirror one or two of their exact words to show precision. Avoid leading with your feelings, and instead invite theirs, then stay quiet long enough for them to add a layer. You can always share later, after you’ve helped them complete the picture. Try this on one call today and see how much more you learn.