Scene 1: “Maybe, If It’s No Trouble”
- Sanne de Vries, 21, Haruka’s roommate
- Haruka Sato, 21, from Nagoya, Japan
It was Thursday evening in Utrecht. Sanne de Vries, 21, was chopping onions in the kitchen of the student apartment when Haruka Sato, 21, the Japanese exchange student, came in to fill her water bottle.
“I’m making pasta for me and Daan tonight,” said Sanne. “Want to join?”
Haruka was very hungry. But saying yes immediately might seem greedy, and maybe Sanne was only being polite. “Ah… maybe,” she said softly. “If it’s no trouble for you…”
“Okay!” said Sanne, and went back to her onions.
Haruka went to her room and waited for Sanne to knock and ask again, as any host in Japan would, just to be sure. The smell of garlic drifted under the door. Then she heard plates, and Daan laughing at something. At 8:30, she quietly made herself a cup of instant noodles.
The next morning, Sanne was cheerful at breakfast. “Morning! Hey, your dishes have been in the sink for two days. That’s annoying. Can you wash them today?” Then she smiled and started talking about her psychology exam.
Haruka washed the dishes immediately. Then she went to her room and sent a message to her mother in Nagoya: “I think Sanne hates me.”
Scene 2: “It’s Fine, Thank You”
- Ploy Srisuk, 16, from Chiang Mai, Thailand
- Aroha Parata, Ploy’s host mom
It was June in Wellington, New Zealand, which meant winter, and the wind was howling off the harbor. Ploy Srisuk, 16, an exchange student from Chiang Mai, Thailand, was doing homework in her room when her host mom, Aroha Parata, knocked on the door.
“You warm enough in here, Ploy? This old house gets a bit drafty.”
Ploy smiled. “It’s fine, thank you.”
She was wearing two sweaters and two pairs of socks. In Chiang Mai, even the coldest nights feel like a cool spring evening.
At ten o’clock, Aroha went to say goodnight and found Ploy shivering under three blankets, still wearing her school jersey (that’s a sweater, in New Zealand).
“Ploy! Why didn’t you say? We’ve got a heater in the cupboard!”
The Other Side
Sanne genuinely likes Haruka. When Haruka said “maybe,” Sanne heard “probably not.” “Why would anyone say maybe if they meant yes?” she said later. “I thought she had other plans, or didn’t like pasta.”
As for the dishes: “If something annoys me, I say it, it’s done, and we move on. If I don’t say it, I get more and more annoyed, and that’s much worse for our friendship.” For Sanne, saying things straight is respectful. It means I trust you to handle the truth, and I’m not playing games with you. In her family, hinting is considered a bit sneaky.
Haruka had been polite too, by her own rules. Her “maybe” gave Sanne an easy way out if the invitation was just a formality. And in Haruka’s world, someone who is mildly annoyed drops a gentle hint first. Only a very angry person would say it so plainly. So the plainness itself sounded like anger.
Aroha was baffled. “If you’re cold, just say so, love! I can’t read your mind.” She had asked a clear question and expected a clear answer.
For Ploy, saying “I’m cold” would have meant asking her host to go to trouble and spend money on heating. It might even suggest that Aroha was a bad host. Thai has a word for this feeling: kreng jai, holding back so as not to burden or inconvenience others. Saying “It’s fine” was considerate.
What’s Going On?
A spectrum, not two boxes
Some cultures tend to value saying things clearly and explicitly. We call that direct communication. Others tend to value softening, hinting and leaving things unsaid, to protect harmony and feelings. We call that indirect communication.
It’s a spectrum, not two boxes. The Netherlands, Israel and Germany are often described as being toward the direct end. Japan, Thailand and Indonesia are often toward the indirect end. Many cultures sit somewhere in between. And individuals vary: remember Daan, the Dutchman who apologizes for everything.
What each style protects
Neither style is better. Each one protects something important:
| Direct communication protects… | Indirect communication protects… |
|---|---|
| clarity: everyone knows where they stand | harmony: nobody is embarrassed |
| honesty: there are no hidden meanings | feelings: the other person’s dignity is safe |
| efficiency: problems get solved quickly | relationships: long-term peace matters more than one small problem |
| trust: “I respect you enough to tell you the truth” | respect: “I respect you enough not to force you into an awkward answer” |
That’s why each style can feel rude to someone raised with the other. To indirect listeners, directness can feel harsh, aggressive or careless. To direct listeners, indirectness can feel vague, confusing, or even dishonest.
Same words, different weight
Look again at Sanne’s sentence: “Your dishes have been in the sink for two days. That’s annoying.” In Sanne’s world, that’s a small, friendly update. In Haruka’s world, it’s a very strong statement. People from more indirect cultures often save plain words for serious situations, so plain words sound serious.
The same thing happens in reverse. Haruka’s “maybe” was, in her world, a soft “yes, please, ask me again.” In Sanne’s world, it was a soft no.
Indirect speakers often use softeners: “perhaps,” “a little,” “it might be…,” “I was wondering if….” Direct listeners may hear a pile of softeners as weakness or uncertainty, or miss the message entirely.
Honne and tatemae
Japanese has two useful words here. Honne means your true feelings. Tatemae means the face you show in public, the polite response that suits the situation. Tatemae isn’t lying. It’s social courtesy, like the smile of a store clerk at the end of a long day. Every culture has some version of this. Cultures differ in how much of it they expect, and when.
Postcards
Tel Aviv, Israel. In Hebrew there’s a word for straight talk: dugri. Speaking dugri is often seen as sincere and even warm. You say exactly what you think because you treat the other person as an equal and a friend. An Israeli might tell a new acquaintance that their business idea won’t work, and then spend an hour helping to fix it. The linguist Tamar Katriel wrote a whole book about dugri speech.
Minnesota, USA. Mateo Rojas, 17, from Colombia, cooks arepas (corn cakes) for his host family. His host dad, Dave, takes a bite and says, “Well, that’s… different!” Mateo is delighted, until his host sister Emma explains that in Minnesota, “different” or “interesting” is often a polite way of saying “I don’t like it.” Locals call this style “Minnesota nice.” It’s a good reminder that “Americans are direct” is only a generalization. The American Midwest has an indirect style all its own.
Try This
If you tend to be direct:
- Add a cushion. “This might just be me, but…” or “Would you mind…?”
- Make offers twice, gently: “Are you sure? There’s plenty!”
- Try a question instead of a statement. “Could we sort out the dishes?”
- Listen for softeners. If someone uses a lot of them, the message may be bigger than it sounds.
If you tend to be indirect:
- Try “clear but kind.” “Yes, please, I’d love to join!” or “I’m a bit cold. Could I use a heater?”
- Remember that in many direct cultures, saying what you need isn’t a burden. It helps people help you.
- Don’t read plain words as anger. Check the tone of voice and the smile.
For everyone:
- Ask, with a smile: “Is that a yes, a maybe, or a no?”
- Explain your own style. “Where I’m from, we say ‘maybe’ to be polite. So if I say maybe, please ask me again!”
Pause and Reflect
- Where are you on the direct–indirect spectrum? Does it change at work, at home or with friends?
- Think of a time someone seemed “too direct” or “too vague” to you. What might they have been trying to protect?
Key Takeaways
- Direct and indirect communication are both forms of politeness.
- Directness protects clarity and honesty; indirectness protects harmony and feelings.
- The same words carry different weight: plain words can sound angry to indirect listeners, and soft words can sound like “no” to direct ones.
- When in doubt, ask, and explain your own style.