Unsolicited Advice Is the Junk Mail of Life
This is part of my blog series Practical Self-Help for Introspective People.
Hey, friends!
Can I confess something? I love giving unsolicited advice. My instinct is to jump in as soon as I see someone struggle and offer my very best, top-notch, knee-jerk advice. Put simply, I blurt out the first obvious thing that occurs to me. What’s not obvious to me is that they also thought of the obvious thing.
Ironic, no?
But you know what’s really weird? I don’t love receiving unsolicited advice. I don’t want to hear about the obvious suggestion that popped into someone’s head. (Am I a cantankerous old man? Absolutely.) In most cases, the advice-giver lacks the context to give good suggestions. They’re oblivious to my goals, constraints, and everything I’ve already tried to solve my problem.
But the steady stream of unhelpful advice never ends. It’s like that quote from Bernard Williams:
Unsolicited advice is the junk mail of life.
Examples of junk-mail from Stewie’s life:
When I feel down, one friend always emails me Tony Robbins videos.
When I have a cold, one coworker always prescribes “more orange juice, as long as it’s organic and not from California.”
When I need to shed extra pounds, one family member always urges me to “just eat less” and try some new-fangled fad diet from talk radio.
Each of these well-intentioned people has some oversimplified—and sometimes bonkers!—solution to my problems. They’re a lot like Gus, the father from My Big Fat Greek Wedding (2002), who believes that “every ailment from psoriasis to poison ivy can be cured with Windex.”
So I get annoyed when people peddle unsolicited advice. I know they’re trying to be helpful, which tempers my irritation, but their recommendations don’t help. And if this happens too often, I worry they don’t trust me to manage my own life.
John Gray sums this up with:
To offer a man unsolicited advice is to presume that he doesn’t know what to do or that he can’t do it on his own.
As a result, I try not to dole out unsolicited advice. The urge is still omnipresent. I want to jump in and solve their problems, but I tell myself they can manage their lives. I tell myself they’ll ask for advice when they need it.
So don’t hand out unsolicited advice. And when you feel tempted, remind yourself of two things:
1. It’s a trap
Each of us wants to improve aspects of our lives. Maybe it's getting healthier, developing a new skill, or just keeping our house a tad cleaner. (If you’re like me, all of these are goals!)
And I’ll be honest, sometimes I just don’t feel like doing any of that. It’s work, after all! Who wants that? So I hunt for distractions to occupy my time and silence that voice that nags me about reorganizing my kids’ rooms. (This voice is so annoying!)
One of my favorite distractions—and the most interesting—is to jump into other people’s business and tell them how to solve their problems. Getting embroiled in others’ drama passes the time like nothing else. Hours whizz by, as do deadlines and missed opportunities. By the end of the day, I’m left with a mountain of things left undone. (This kind of sucks.)
Don't be like me. Before offering unsolicited advice, consider whether you're actually seeking a distraction. And if you are, hit the pause button. Try to figure out what work you're avoiding and why.
2. You don’t want this responsibility
I’m not a financial advisor, nor do I play one on TV. I barely have enough knowledge to manage my own affairs. Similarly, I’m not a trained medical professional. I have enough information to manage my own medical conditions and take care of my own body, but I’m woefully unqualified to recommend how others manage their health.
As such, I hesitate to give anyone any sort of financial or medical advice. Or any other unsolicited advice, especially on important matters, like money and marriage. I’d feel terrible if I spouted some off-the-cuff guidance and things turned out poorly for the other person. I’d feel responsible if they had to live with the consequences of acting on my ill-informed counsel.
Seriously, I don’t want that sort of responsibility. And neither do you.
But Stewie, what if my advice is helpful?
I admit that there are times when my unsolicited advice is helpful. But it’s rare. Advice-giving is all about feeding my ego or distracting myself. It’s about me, not them.
So, before giving a friend unsolicited advice, ask:
Are they in danger?
Do they simply lack the right information?
Are they incapable of solving things by themselves?
Do you have enough context/wisdom to give solid advice?
Will they actually listen, heed your counsel, and change course?
In virtually every case, the answer to at least one of these questions is No.
Just Say No
Don’t give unsolicited advice. Trust other people to manage their affairs. After all, you want people to trust you to manage your life, right?
And if someone gives you unsolicited advice, just nod your head and go about your business. Or if you’re a troll (like me!), you can misconstrue their words, as Bonnie McFarlane did:
When you’re pregnant, people feel like they can come up and give you unsolicited advice. When I was nine months pregnant, this one woman came up and she said, I have one word for you: epidural. And I was like, Oh my God, thanks. But we already picked a name.
Recommended reading
Thanks to Diane Callahan, Britton Broderick, and Thomas Weigel for reading drafts of this. Thanks to Todd Ericksen for helping with graphics.