The other day, I overheard a man at the train station on his smartphone saying, “Their expectation management really stinks.” He seemed to be a coach of some kind who was trying to establish a new way of working together in a company. And he seemed exhausted. I googled “expectation management.” There really is such a thing: a guided process that navigates participants through the expectations and misunderstandings between individuals or groups. But somehow, it sounded very technical to my ears—very efficient and practical. As if our longings and desires, our traumas and fears—everything that makes us complicated, lovable people, everything that is part of social life—were something to be constrained and directed. As if we could invoke a method that made everything human manageable.
But what kind of work is this “expectation management”—not just for this man but also for the participants who engage in such a process? It’s evidence of a willingness to talk to each other about the differences between us. But it could also be the expression of a common will, beyond the differences. Or would that actually be the first step? Or perhaps the last one to start with? Alpha and Omega. Technè (ancient Greek: craft, skill, art) is the way to get there. So it’s up to me to manage my own expectations in social interaction, to rein myself in: to be aware of them, to communicate them, and also to adapt or change them if necessary. It sounds simple, but it takes courage. Whether it is called “expectation management” or “living in the love of doing and letting live in the understanding of the will of others,” is probably not so important. What is important is the person who has decided to take this risk out of freedom.
Translation Laura Liska
Graphics Fabian Roschka
