When reading Pythagoras’ quote, “Silence is better than unmeaning words,” two related adages immediately come to mind. The first, “Say what you mean, but mean what you say,” lights the restaurant district of what was East Berlin in huge blue neon letters, though in the native German. A friend and communications expert regularly dispenses the second adage: “Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all.” Pythagoras’ quote combines both adages elegantly yet subtly.
The quote asks a question: What words are sufficiently meaningful as to justify breaking silence? The word ‘unmeaning’ is the key to the versatility of Pythagoras’ maxim, but it’s also the source of the concept’s complexity. Any attempts to qualify or contrast the definitions of words like ‘unmeaning’ or ‘meaningfulness’ can quickly create a semantic, linguistic, or philosophic debate. While Pythagoras would preclude people from verbalizing ‘unmeaning’ words when speaking, he also silently encourages the opposite – the use of ‘meaningful’ words.
“Say what you mean, but mean what you say,” is an imperative statement. It insists that we speak deliberately, with genuine ideas that are bound in truthful, heartfelt, and direct forms of speech. A compliment, for example, is only a compliment when it contains genuine intent. Direct responses or questions convey greater clarity than euphemisms or vague suggestions because they are honest. Good communication, ideally, is genuine.
The advice of “Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all,” is a second gatekeeper of spoken words. Instead of encouraging social authenticity, like the sign in Berlin, this adage acts a safety valve against any unnecessary words. Saying nothing silences unkind remarks, words of anger, judgments of ego, and nervous chatter itself. It’s often true that one cannot get oneself into trouble for something left unsaid.
German relatives largely view small talk as inefficient and plainly unnecessary, indicative of culture. In Sweden, and much of Scandinavia, small talk borders on cultural taboo. The French have anecdotally preferred depth and purpose. Friends in academia and those who have vast socioeconomic success rarely have time to waste with idle prattle or gossip, as kind a personable as they ubiquitously are. Prioritizing meaning and content in conversations supersedes the artistic flow of communicatory paprikas in their individual, quotidian worlds. Small talk and gossip are entirely optional, an expendability illustrating the uselessness of those words or ideas. This is why when I ask someone how they are feeling, I’m actually inquiring. When breaking silence with words, good communication must come from a genuine place. Saying anything at all demands questions of setting and necessity.
Neogeneses 