Communication is, at its most basic level, the transfer of information. It's about sending a clear signal from one point to another. But is that all it is? If you successfully convey the data but fail to convey the meaning, have you truly communicated? In our world of emails, Slack messages, and data-driven reports, we often prioritize the efficiency of the signal over the humanity of the message. We forget that the purpose of communication is not just to inform, but to connect.
Andy Weir’s The Martian is, on its surface, a story about a massive communication problem. After months of painstaking work to re-establish contact with Earth, Mark Watney finally succeeds in growing a small potato crop in the Hab—a miraculous achievement that might just be enough to keep him alive. When he finally re-establishes communication with Earth, he doesn’t just report the data. He communicates his triumph, his spirit, and his indelible humanity with a classic Watney flourish: "They say once you grow crops somewhere, you have officially ‘settled’ it. So technically, I’m the first Martian farmer. Take that, history!"
This is so much more than a status update. It's a declaration of defiance against the void. He’s not just transmitting information ("crop experiment successful"); he's transmitting meaning ("I am not just surviving, I am contributing. I am making this alien world yield to my will"). The humor, the bravado, the playful jab at a legendary icon—it’s all part of the message. It tells NASA and the world not just that he is alive, but how he is alive: with his spirit, his wit, and his will to live fully intact. He isn't just sending a signal; he's sending himself.
This is what it means to truly communicate. It’s to bridge the space between two minds with your unique signature. To simply transfer data is to land on a place; to communicate with meaning is to plant a flag of self-expression. It’s to leave a part of your spirit behind. In our personal and professional lives, we have endless opportunities to do this, but we often settle for the sterile efficiency of data transfer.
Watney's struggle to communicate is a powerful metaphor. He has to work with ancient, broken technology and a 20-minute time delay. This forces him to be incredibly intentional about every message. He can't afford to waste a single bit of bandwidth on meaningless jargon or corporate platitudes. What if we treated our own communication with that same sense of intention? What if we saw every interaction as a chance to not just send information, but to fill the space with our unique, human signature?
Mindful Steps for More Human Communication
To move beyond simple data transfer and start connecting with your communication, you need to practice intention, clarity, and courage. Here are three tips to help you send messages that truly matter.
1. Find Your "Take That, History" Line
Watney's message worked because it contained both the essential data (I have grown food) and a powerful dose of his personality. Before your next important communication, take a moment to plan both parts of your message. First, identify the core data—your "I grew crops on Mars". Second, ask yourself: "What is the spirit of this message? What do I want the other person to feel?" This is where you find your "Take that, history" moment. By consciously planning to include both data and spirit, you ensure your message will be not only understood, but a memorable experience.
2. Audit Your Communication Channels
We have a dizzying array of communication channels, and we often use them without thinking. For one week, conduct a channel audit: pay attention to the channels you use. The goal is to become more intentional about matching the message to the medium. Use asynchronous channels (email, chat) for transferring data, and synchronous channels (phone calls, video calls) for conveying meaning, nuance, and human connection. Choose the channel that honors the humanity of your message.
3. Practice "High-Bandwidth" Listening
To create real connection, you also have to be skilled at receiving the humanity of others. This is "high-bandwidth" listening. In your next conversation, try to listen on multiple channels at once. Don't just hear the words (the data). Pay attention to the tone of voice, the body language, the pauses, the things left unsaid (the spirit). Ask questions that invite more than just a data transfer. This is a practice of communicating with your attention that you are not just interested in what the other person knows, but in who they are.
Watney's act of communication was a declaration of purpose that brought him profound fulfillment. But how do we find fulfillment when our lives aren't as dramatic as being the first Martian farmer? Next, we'll examine how to find that same sense of purpose and progress by learning to celebrate every "first" in your own personal frontier.
