The torture of unsolicited advice

They're ready to give advice on everything. To their son, where he needs to study, they who barely managed to graduate from middle school. To their daughter, so she doesn't choose a husband, they who have a divorce and a couple of post-marital separations behind them. To their friend who can't leave his hometown, they who have always lived in the same place. The authors of unsolicited advice are a kind of tribe we encounter throughout life like traffic lights along the roads. Stationed at intersections, when we simply need to stop and take a break, they camouflage themselves for the role they wish to play at any given time: they are the seemingly altruistic people who need a generous veneer to their appearance, they are the experts graduated from the University of Tübingen who wish they could wear the clothes of "good teachers," they are the confidants who promote themselves in the service of those who have no desire to confide in them.

It is difficult to stop the givers of unsolicited advice, both when they are above suspicion and are only trying to make a (useless) gesture generosity both when they clumsily try to demonstrate a skill, an experience, a jumble of sensations that authorize them to say, implicitly: “I can explain this to you….”.

For those who habitually dispense unsolicited advice, many boundaries are blurred, or even ignored. The first is between silence and authorization. Faced with a mosquito circling our heads to voice its opinion, if we choose silence, the other person automatically interprets it as consent and feels authorized to continue with their shopping list, sometimes the arithmetic sum of banal and superfluous thoughts. A second boundary is that between trust and discretion. Granted: with a friend or relative ready to shower us with advice, the intimacy factor, typical of these intense human relationships, plays in their favor. But trust must also take a step back, faced with the need for privacy and confidentiality. discretionWho decided we have to talk about a problem we have? Why do we have to share a pain we feel is ours alone?

The third boundary, which the dispenser of unsolicited advice is usually ready to cross with impunity, is that between speaking and to listenSometimes, instead of the advice of a magazine column for broken hearts, we simply need to be heard. To express our opinion, an opinion, a vent, a story. And we have no desire, much less the need, to listen to the retort disguised as unsolicited advice.

Finally, unsolicited advice is a sign of pride. The violent act of intruding on someone's privacy is combined with the certainty of being helpful through the words uttered in the form of advice. Meanwhile, the words of Publilius Syrus, a Roman poet and playwright, remain highly valid: "It’s very easy to give advice; it’s very difficult to give good advice.” So the best thing, most of the time, is to pinch yourself and keep quiet.