Indirect Speaking: Why Some Asian Families Dont' Say Things Directly
“Why don’t you just tell your mom why you’re upset with her?”
“Can you just tell your parents you don’t want to visit them this weekend?”
For many Asian American children of immigrants, these sorts of questions feel weirdly impossible. Within a lot of Asian families, direct communication can come off as rude or offensive, while indirect communication is the more emotionally mature means of interacting with family. It signals respect, saving face, and relational competence. This actually applies to all cultures to a degree, but particularly important in collectively oriented societies.
The more traditionally structured an Asian family is, the more there exists an internalized set of rules and guidelines of social interaction, usually framed by hierarchical relationships between men and women, adults and children, even the younger siblings and older siblings. In other words, everyone knows who is supposed to do what and acts that way without being asked, thereby creating a harmonious group relationship. The other reasons for not speaking directly can be the following:
Avoiding shame or humiliation
Respect for authority
Saving face
Emotional restraint as a show of maturity
Not burdening others with your feelings
Group cohesion over individual expression
Communication is something to be interpreted, not just hear literally. Emotional inference, reading the air, sensing what someone needs- these are all examples of hearing what’s not being said. Indirect communication works best when there is enough shared understanding and trust to support it. When that trust breaks down, resentment often takes its place. Again, this is not something that only applies to Asian families.
The reason why indirect communication promotes social cohesion, is this: It feels good when you don’t have to ask- that feeling you get when someone immediately gets up to help you clean the dishes after eating. It feels like being taken care of when someone instinctively “gets” you. It makes you enjoy being part of a group, a team, or family.
But when it doesn’t work- say that relative who just enjoyed the meal you cooked stayed in their chair instead of helping you clean up, and then you stood at the sink washing all of the dishes, resentful at the fact that there was not even an offer or a sign of gratitude. On the outside, you don’t seem to care too much.
On the inside, the unspoken, lingering tension is deeply felt. This is a tiny rupture, but imagine several of these ruptures compounding into something bigger and it forces you to say something about it, to confront the issue head on.
When implicit expectations become explicit, they open up to messy conflict. This is why we hear so many therapists (myself included) generally encouraging people to have direct conversations, to talk openly about the issue, as if this was the natural and normal thing to do.
We therapists sometimes forget that our insistence on direct communication is rooted in culture as well- the culture of the US is founded upon ideals of fairness, equality and freedom. We privilege speaking up as a way to assert our rights as an individual. Saying what you mean to say to others is the healthy and correct way to solve problems. It is good to question authority, to be transparent and clear in all of our actions. Arguing and even debate is not something to be scared by. Giving an ultimatum is a possibility if no compromise can be made. It hasn’t always been like this, but over time modern society has loosened the hierarchical nature of relationships in favor of more equal democratic individualism.
When we privilege speaking up, we misunderstand the use of silence. Silence doesn’t mean the absence of speech. Silence is not only disempowering- it can be powerful, it can speak more than any word can. A parent having a ready made bowl of cut fruit for you when you get home from a busy day at work. Your uncle quietly driving you to the airport at 5am. A relative placing food into your bowl before serving themselves. Care is often embedded in action rather than verbal expression.
But silence can also cause immense pain.
It can leave people guessing at what they did wrong. Silence can be weaponized into a treatment of coercion. It can force children to become hypervigilant interpreters of mood and tension. It can create relationships where nobody feels fully known because so much must constantly be inferred rather than spoken aloud.
This is where many children of immigrants feel caught between two worlds. One world teaches them that good relationships require restraint, sacrifice, and emotional intuition. The other teaches them that healthy relationships require clarity, directness, and explicit communication.
Neither side is entirely wrong.
Not every feeling needs to be immediately verbalized in order to be valid. But not every silence is wise, either.
Perhaps maturity is not about deciding that one communication style is superior to the other, but discerning whether directness or restraint is the more powerful action to take in the goal of improving a family relationship.