The first rule of giving someone advice is ...

Don’t do it. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. 

Ok, but why do I say so? Since you asked:

One of the most common things you’ll hear about India and Indians is their eagerness to give unsolicited advice. My earliest memories of experiencing this were of train journeys. People would give you tips about how to ‘crack’ the civil service exams or why you should try your hand at the NDA exams that would get you a job in the armed forces. 

Now that I think about it, the most advice (from what I remember) is about jobs and careers. Even then, no one from middle-class India would advise you to become a cricketer or actor (that could have been possible in elite circles, perhaps). It was always engineers, civil servants, and doctors. Forget about writers, fashion designers, entrepreneurs or filmmakers. But I understand why - no one would even consider these as career options.¹ 

Anything beyond career advice was rare back in the day. Maybe once in a while, something about health. But, of course, it is not rooted in modern medicine. Advice about relationships? How would that even happen? For advice on relationships, one has to have had some experience in making and maintaining them, no? (not talking about joint family relationships, if there is even such a thing. I’m talking about “love”) 

This reminds me of something Rajyasree Sen said on some episode of the Awful and Awesome podcast: (paraphrased) Most couples will fight in public and in front of their children and express love behind closed doors. And then we’re surprised about our culture around love and relationships!

Coming back to advice: I don’t know if things are any better now, but from what I gathered, relationships were never something one had to have any advice on (at least as a man, women may have got advice on how to make rounder rotis). 

My mother had told me this story where, just before boarding the train to Bombay along with my father for a “happy married life”, the advice she got from one of her elder sisters was a recipe for a chutney made from tomatoes. I’ve had the said chutney. I can assure you - it was nothing special. Apparently, the secret to a happy married or family life is not found in the tanginess of tomato chutneys; who knew?

Anyway. 

So, for the first 30 years of my life, I was mainly on the receiving end of this setup, mostly receiving advice. But now, I am moving to the dark (bright?) side and have sometimes given out advice. 

The hard part is giving unsolicited advice because you still have some leverage if someone has asked you for advice. A sense of wisdom was perceived by the asker, albeit wrongly perhaps, but they came to you nonetheless. 

It is particularly challenging to give out advice while making it seem the other person asked for it. Extra credit if you can convince the other person that their life is now way better since you have told them how to live it.

Apart from the ever-advancing age, another reason for the sudden urge to dish out unsolicited advice could be the lack of interesting things to discuss. Conversations are hard. You sometimes have to actually give a fuck and listen with intention and ask people questions to keep the ball rolling. A quick “Ah ha” or “That’s nice” might just result in them continually yapping. People hardly listen to understand; it’s mostly to respond. Or as one senior from college used to say, “तीसरे ‘और बताओ’ पे फ़ोन काट देना चाहिए” (You might as well just end the call after the third ‘So what’s new?’) 

Giving advice is a great move to get out of this situation. If you are always looking for a problem to solve in the other person’s life, you can have a somewhat better conversation experience. This reminds me of this story I heard somewhere:

Two friends met for lunch after a long time. They ordered a large bowl of biryani. Just before the food arrives on their table, one friend asks, “So I got to know your father passed away; what happened?” The other friend starts telling the story, including the medical history of his dad, what happened on the day of the accident, etc. All this while, since he was narrating the story, he wasn’t eating, and his friend had finished almost half the dish.

Now, assuming it was time to switch roles in the conversation and he could start eating, he asks his friend, “I heard your dad passed away some time ago, too; what happened?”. The other friend goes, “Oh, it was a heart attack”, and continues eating.

People complain that there isn’t much to talk about these days. You usually have to pick between sports, movies and books. If you’re feeling particularly adventurous, politics. But even then, the other person has to be interested in at least one of these things. The advice strategy can clearly help in these situations, too.

You may have watched all the movies, read all the books, and had all the experiences you wanted, but now, don’t you want everyone to know this? What better way than to convince them to do it too? What better way to tell them about this while solving some of their problems. 

One of my family members has this strategy when someone asks him for advice: he would point-blank ask the other person what they wanted to hear from him and then just go ahead and say it. This has an added advantage. After listening to you carefully for a while, suppose the other person decides not to take your advice (because, I don’t know, it was raining that day maybe?). In that case, you can use this strategy to avoid feeling bad. 

You may think that giving advice requires empathy: put yourself in the other person’s shoes, ask them questions that make them think hard about their choices, etc. You might think that if you’re giving advice without much intent, why even do it? Let me give you some advice (aha!): Why bother? (Mostly) Nobody cares.

I feel most people don’t know jack shit about adulting. They tell you what worked for them. If you are keen, you can ask them more: why they did what they did when they did it etc., and you may find something interesting there. But these conversations are rare because people who have really thought this through are also rare. People who have actually used the advice themselves that they just doled out? Even rarer. 

This reminds me: How many psychologists does it take to change a lightbulb? Only one, but the bulb has to want to change.