"Temba, his arms wide" might seem nonsensical at first, but to an entire alien planet and an earthbound generation of Star Trek fans, it’s shorthand for "gratefully accepting what is being offered". In the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “Darmok” Captain Picard encounters the Tamarians, a species whose speech relies entirely on metaphors tied to their cultural history. Though the Universal Translator converts their words, it cannot convey their meaning, creating a frustrating communication barrier. (Here's an interesting external discussion about the episode and some of the concepts in it.)
Although Jordan Peterson doesn’t reference Star Trek in this chapter, as I reflected on his views about memory, the connection struck me. Peterson describes memory as a tool for distilling meaning, much like the Tamarian metaphors. Just as the phrase “Temba, his arms wide” encapsulates a story of offering and generosity, our memories abbreviate complex experiences into lessons or symbols that can guide us in the future.
Similarly, conversations serve as a powerful distillation process. They weave together disparate threads—facts, feelings, and observations—into a cohesive narrative that can later be recalled and referenced concisely, but with layers of meaning intact.
Peterson argues that memory doesn’t exist to record every detail of the past but to extract useful lessons for the future. In the same way, words are not just placeholders for ideas—they’re symbols charged with meaning. Think about phrases like “picnic apples.” Without shared context, those words are hollow. But if you and I once shared a memorable picnic with crisp, tart apples, then the phrase evokes an entire world: the taste of the apples, the warmth of the sun, and the joy of that day.
The Tamarians’ metaphors work the same way. “Temba, his arms wide” means nothing until you understand the story it references. Their language assumes a shared cultural memory, much like our personal shorthand for meaningful moments. Without understanding the stories behind the metaphors—or the emotions behind the words—we risk miscommunication, even when the words are perfectly translated.
Conversations, much like memories, serve to refine and condense meaning. Through dialogue, we turn a collection of thoughts into a coherent story. Each conversation is a chance to clarify, learn, and distill. When you and I revisit our picnic apples, for example, we might refine the meaning further—“They were the best apples, weren’t they? Perfect for that fall day.” Now, those apples don’t just represent taste; they can represent cherished moment; for a Telemarine, "picnic apples" could signify "the best tool or object for the given situation."
The Darmok episode reveals how critical active listening is to bridging gaps in understanding. Captain Picard’s success doesn’t come from simply hearing Dathon’s words but from observing his actions, piecing together the metaphors, and synthesizing a story from them. Peterson, too, emphasizes the importance of listening—not to judge, respond, or defend, but to truly understand.
Listening is an act of humility. It requires assuming the other person knows something you don’t. When we listen with curiosity and openness, we invite others to share their distilled memories—their “Temba, his arms wide”—and offer us insight that we couldn’t access on our own.
Conversations themselves are transformative when approached this way. They aren’t just exchanges of information; they’re collaborative processes where meaning is distilled and shared. In those moments, we create new shorthand for understanding—shared memories or metaphors that can be referenced later, enriched by the context of the dialogue. It's a benefit we achieve when we've worked to genuinely understand.
Why does this matter? Because the process of listening and learning helps us navigate life more effectively. By distilling meaning from conversations and memories, we uncover better paths—choices that align with our goals, values, and the good we seek to do. Peterson often speaks of our meta-goal as the pursuit of what is good. To achieve that, we must first understand, and understanding comes from engaging deeply with others’ stories and perspectives.
In Darmok, Picard’s willingness to listen to Dathon leads to a shared narrative: “Picard and Dathon at El-Adrel.” This new story becomes a symbol of cooperation, something both cultures can reference to foster mutual understanding in the future. It’s a powerful reminder that our conversations today shape the stories, definitions, and shorthand we rely on tomorrow.
The Tamarians’ metaphors, Peterson’s views on memory, and the act of listening all point to a single truth: words and stories matter. They’re not just tools for communication but vehicles for meaning, distilled from the richness of experience. When we approach conversations with curiosity, humility, and the willingness to listen, we build bridges to understanding.
You may not come across such strange phrases in your day-to-day experience, that require you to ask penetrating questions, but making assumptions about what you hear because it sounds so obvious, leads nowhere. One of Peterson's techniques to ensure the narrative is properly shared, is to have the listener recount the intended meaning of the story to the speaker, to the speaker's satisfaction. By listening, asking questions, and engaging deeply, you open yourself to the possibility of learning, growing, and finding a better path—for yourself and those around you.
Listening isn’t just about hearing words—it’s about understanding the story and intent behind them. Peterson’s Rule 9, Assume that the person you are listening to might know something you don’t, challenges us to approach every conversation with humility and openness. Listening to learn creates the win. Listening with other motives—like waiting to respond, argue, or defend—prevents us from accessing the meaning, and intended conent, others offer. Listening to be able to repeat the meaning of the converstation ensures understanding.
This humility ties directly to the idea of memory and distillation. Through dialogue, we create narratives that compress experiences into concise, meaningful symbols—our own “Temba, his arms wide.” Each conversation is a chance to refine, clarify, and create a shared understanding that will guide us in the future. The post about about Rule 9: The Blahbird sings "TemBLAH."