The Four-Word Strategy That Bridges Any Divide
How a leadership move from a synagogue fundraiser explains exactly what’s missing in modern journalism.
My synagogue had its annual fundraiser this past weekend. The evening was a tribute to Brian Rissinger, our Executive Director. Brian has spent the last 20 years leading us. He has led the congregation through lots of change, some good and some quite hard.
He is the kind of leader who makes the heavy lifting look effortless. But during the tribute, a speaker shared a specific detail about how he handles people that I’d never fully processed. It was a small observation about his personality. Once I heard it, everything clicked. I realized I’d been on the receiving end of this move before without even knowing it.
It gets right to the core of what we’re missing when we think about how we do our jobs as journalists.
What is Brian’s secret? Whenever someone runs over to him with a problem, a mess, or a crisis, he listens. Then, regardless of how much the person in front of him is spiraling, he calmly says four words.
“Help me to understand.”
Stay in the loop: If you’re finding this strategy useful, consider subscribing to get these weekly deep dives delivered straight to your desk.
The deep roots of four simple words
Reality is, Brian has spent more than two decades running or working in Jewish organizations, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that his go-to phrase is actually hardwired into the DNA of religious study. This isn’t just a management tip. It’s a way of bridging the gap between what we believe and the mysteries we don’t yet grasp.
In the Christian tradition, this is a cornerstone of classical theology. St. Anselm of Canterbury famously called it fides quaerens intellectum. It’s a fancy Latin way of saying faith seeking understanding. The idea is simple. You don’t wait to understand everything before you decide to respect it. You start with a baseline of faith and respect, and then you go looking for the “why.”
Jewish-wise, this is the very soul of the Talmud. If you aren’t familiar, the Talmud isn’t just a list of dry rules. It is a massive, centuries-long record of Rabbinic debate. It is essentially a transcript of a “help me to understand” conversation that never ended.
It thrives on Havruta, where two people sit across from each other and wrestle with a text. You aren’t trying to win a debate. You’re trying to reach a deeper clarity that you can’t get to on your own.
In these traditions, asking for help is a humble surrender. It flips the script. Usually, the person asking the questions has all the power. They are the interrogator. But when you ask someone to help you understand, you’re making them the teacher.
Taking your axe away
Amiel Handelsman is a leadership expert. He says asking that simple question forces clarity. It also forces you to have positive intent. More importantly, it keeps you from saying something dumb when you’re mad. When you’re talking to people for a living, those last two things are vital.
As journalists, most of us spend our lives buried in facts about people we’ve never met. We can tell you exactly how many people died on the local highways last year. We know who is filing for divorce and the dollar amount of the lawsuit. We might even have your birthday on file. But there is a massive gap between having the data and having a conversation. The reality is that we’ve become experts in the statistics of people’s lives while remaining total strangers to the people themselves.
This is why journalism so often feels like a transaction where we’re the only ones getting paid. When we finally do show up, it screams intrusion. We arrive, demand a quote, and leave. It is extractive reporting at its finest.
What if, instead, you lead with Brian’s golden bridge?
Help me to understand. You are no longer the reporter taking a statement. You are moving away from trying to sell your own narrative. You are moving toward a respect for the other person’s reality. Instead of hunting down what happened, you’re seeking the answer to what it all means.
Pass it on: Know an editor or a leader who is currently “spiraling”? Share this golden bridge with them.
Leadership beyond the news story
This four-word philosophy can help us cover better stories, but it should also help us lead better organizations.
Senior Executives: Use this when a department head presents a strategy that seems completely wrong for the mission. Instead of shutting them down, ask them to help you understand the path that led them to that conclusion. You might discover a blind spot in your own worldview, or you might find a brilliant solution to a problem you didn’t know existed.
News editors: Stop angrily chopping up a story because it doesn’t feel right. Sit down with the reporter and ask them to help you understand their vision. It removes the defensiveness and turns a rewrite into a coaching session.
Development and Membership Professionals: Stop talking at your donors. Most news consumers never give a dime. Your donors are your most important outliers. Ask them to help you understand why they chose to invest their money with you. Let them explain your value proposition to you.
Salespeople: Skip the pitch deck. Ask the client to help you understand their actual goals for the next quarter. You’ll learn what they actually need instead of just trying to sell them a banner ad.
Relational Journalism
Admitting you need help is an act of humility. It signals to the person in front of you that you value their reality more than your own assumptions.
In a Jewish institution, this kind of inquiry is the glue. It is how Brian has stayed connected to a community through twenty years of disagreement and change. In journalism, it should be our new foundation.
If we want to mend the trust gap with the public, we have to stop acting like the experts of everyone else’s lives. We need to start asking for a little help to understand the world we cover.
It’s more than a better way to interview. It’s a better way to lead.
Did I get this right? I’m constantly refining these newsroom dynamics. If I missed a nuance or you have a different take on “Relational Journalism,” hit reply. I read every correction.
Join the conversation How have you used curiosity to flip a power dynamic in your own work?