The More Someone Leaves Unsaid, The Faster You Should Walk Away

Today I want to talk about one thing: the words people don't say.

"The unsaid" is information the speaker deliberately holds back to preserve ambiguity in their own favor — it might be body language, eye contact, an action, or just a pause in the middle of a sentence. Reading it is a skill. But the more important skill is judging how much a person leaves unsaid, and deciding whether they're worth more of your time.

Let me start with something small that happened at the end of a semester.

I teach part-time at a university, and finals were coming up, so I was figuring out how to schedule the exam.

My course had been planned long ago, but the Ministry of Education has a "streamlined curriculum" policy.

From what I understand, the standard 18-week semester is being compressed into 16 weeks, and we're currently in a 16+2 transition phase.

Meaning: 16 weeks of class, plus 2 flexible weeks the school can use however it wants.

It wasn't until I went to give a talk at National Yang Ming Chiao Tung University recently that I learned they'd already moved to 16 weeks years ago.

Since I couldn't really make sense of the 16+2 explanation, I figured I'd just teach all 18 weeks.

Turns out a lot of students were already doing finals in week 17, and most were on break by week 18.

Some of them were doing round trips to Yilan, Taoyuan, or Chiayi just for this class.

My class also runs from 6–9pm, so they got home very late, and transit options were tight.

I had one student who took an Uber home that ran them over NT$1000.

Honestly, I should be on my knees thanking these students for showing up. This credit was not easy to earn.

But this whole thing made one thing clear to me: the "16+2" explanation is itself a textbook case of "the unsaid." I'll come back to why in a minute.

Why is the unsaid often more important than what's actually said?

It made me think of that famous poem, The Road Not Taken.

The gist of it is that the road taken and the road not taken aren't really that different. They become special only because we chose one — and the unchosen path is special precisely because we didn't choose it.

A line popped into my head: the words not spoken.

My ideas always show up while I'm in the middle of dealing with something else, so I jotted it down, and it became this newsletter.

Two memories surfaced.

The first: I was in the passenger seat, a friend was driving.

I was rarely back in town, so we were finally catching up, swapping stories about old friends.

Then the conversation turned to someone a bit controversial. My friend said: "Me and so-and-so used to be close."

I teased: "So you're not close anymore?"

He gave me a strange smile and said: "Heh. That's hard to say."

You don't say. I don't say. But we both know — and it leaves behind this whole space full of imagination.

That's the power of the unsaid: the ambiguity itself is the message.

The second memory: the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal.

In 1998, the affair between U.S. President Clinton and White House intern Monica Lewinsky broke during my high school years.

I vaguely remember everyone around me dissecting Clinton's absurd logic: oral sex isn't a sexual relationship.

Yeah, that's how vivid the impression was. So vivid I went and dug up the source material:

Lewinsky worked at the White House during 1995–1996, and had an inappropriate relationship with Clinton. Details on Wikipedia.

Initially, Clinton publicly — even under oath — claimed he had no sexual relationship with Lewinsky.

After a long chain of evidence came out, he still held his ground.

I dug around online and found the actual transcript. Pasting the original deposition directly:

I thought the definition included any activity by the person being deposed, where the person was the actor and came in contact with those parts of the bodies with the purpose or intent or gratification, and excluded any other activity.

Yeah, good luck parsing that without a lawyer next to you.

What he's saying is: the other person approached his body parts with some kind of intent — therefore, they had a sexual relationship with him.

What he's also implying: he himself didn't actively initiate contact with the other person's body — therefore, he "didn't" have a sexual relationship with her.

I'm pretty sure you're picturing a meme right now: do you want to take another look at what you just said???

Now circle back to the school's 16+2 explanation. It works exactly like Clinton's wording: what matters is what isn't said.

What wasn't said: in week 18, we usually don't hold class.

The unsaid — precisely because it isn't said — gets understood by the people who already know. Everyone else figures it out eventually, the hard way.

Smart people don't lie. They just don't say: how the elite use silence to protect themselves

An American friend once told me: smart people don't lie. We'd rather just not say it.

He seemed to be hinting at the elite American mindset behind the Clinton case.

Half-truths and half-omissions. They didn't lie — they just didn't say.

They didn't say they don't love you. They also didn't say they do. They just said "I miss you" — and you read into it.

Looking at all the people I know, if my pattern-matching is any good, the smart ones really do operate on "I'd rather not say."

People like me, who let things slip too easily, just have to constantly remind ourselves: don't say the wrong thing! XD

Smart people don't lie, but when forced to respond, their language tends to come with certain features: gray areas, vagueness, room for interpretation.

For example:

• A committee member: "We're suggesting, not encouraging" (whatever you decide is on you, not me).
• A boss: "Why don't you think about it some more, don't rush the conclusion" (I gave you a proposal, you don't like it, you tell me to go back and think — think about what exactly? How? Give me a direction!).
• An investor: "I think your team's product is great, let's stay in touch" (translation: I'm not investing).
• A superior: "You understand what needs to be done, right?" (meaning: anything you do from here on is your interpretation, not my instruction).

What these four lines all share: the words are out there, but the decision-making responsibility just got pushed entirely back onto you. Committee member, boss, investor, superior — every one of them uses the unsaid to leave the risk on the other party while keeping a clean exit for themselves.

Pretty slick, right? All personally lived experience XD.

In real-world settings, the examples above can easily flip into a [cautionary tale] — meaning idiots will also use these phrases to pretend to be smart people.

It's like when a judge can't follow a presentation. To cover up the fact that they're lost, they'll ask the speaker to re-explain a specific slide or concept.

But the flip side: sometimes a presentation is genuinely so bad there's nothing meaningful to ask. Doing this is a way to dodge the awkwardness.

Why bother reading the unsaid? Because the unsaid is about interests

If you've followed the examples so far, the point is really just one thing: the interests behind it.

Some things get said clearly — because clarity raises efficiency.

Some things stay murky — because ambiguity benefits the speaker.

If a boss tells you exactly what direction and method to use, you just do it. Over time, this breeds a culture where everyone tries to read the boss's mind, or just dumps every decision back on the boss to make.

Our lives are full of [things not said], and those things aren't only spoken language — they can be body language, eye contact, action.

Reading them is a skill. But knowing when not to look is just as important. Not everyone is worth the time it takes to decode them.

After all, time is also a resource — isn't it?

How do you decide who's worth your time? Look at how much they leave unsaid

Generally, I pay close attention to "the unsaid" with two kinds of people.

1. Newly-met people: deciding whether to spend more time on them in the future.
2. Long-term relationships: deciding whether to spend less time on them in the future.

Unless someone's in a profession that demands confidentiality, the more a person leaves unsaid, the less time you should spend on them.

The logic is simple: needing this much effort to decode someone's hidden meaning means they're not putting out enough information.

In a business context, asymmetric information is reasonable — we don't reveal full plans to competitors or partners.

But from the angle of a partner, friend, or co-founder? Spending every day decoding subtext is exhausting.

So my advice on people who leave too much unsaid: drift away gradually.

Relationships are bilateral. If only one party's interests keep getting eroded, eventually one of you walks.

But there's something I have to add: the unsaid is often formed unconsciously.

The reason I tell people to step away from these folks isn't that they're bad people — it's that they're hard to change.

The more you want them to change, the more powerless you'll feel, and you'll be the only one losing sleep over it.

Remember: we can't "change others" — we can only "change ourselves."

Want a slightly better life? Step away from people who leave too much unsaid.

Listen carefully — to the words that weren't spoken.

Arch Soong

FAQ

Q: How do you tell if someone is "genuinely not chatty" vs. "deliberately holding back"? A: Look at the interests. People who genuinely don't talk much usually have nothing to gain by their silence (pure introversion, shyness). People who deliberately don't say things usually benefit from the ambiguity.

Q: If you can't read between the lines at work, will you get burned? A: Yes. But you don't need to read every sentence — only the "decision-making" ones: instructions from above, client feedback, partnership invitations. Don't overinterpret small talk, or you'll burn yourself out.

Q: My partner or friend leaves a lot unsaid. How do I bring it up directly? A: Lead with "I notice I'm spending a lot of energy guessing what you mean, and it's wearing me out." Frame it as your observation, not their fault. If they're willing to adjust, the relationship has a shot. If not, well — your call on whether to stay XD.

Q: "Smart people would rather not say." Is that any different from lying? A: Yes. Lying actively manufactures false information. "Not saying" passively keeps the ambiguity open. Sometimes not saying is also a way to protect you — knowing too much isn't always a good thing.