“A big part of the job is building rapport”. That line, spoken by Louis Theroux, flickered across my screen in subtitles last night, glowing in the quiet of the living room. He wasn’t talking about therapy, or parenting, or politics. He was talking about his own curious profession — stepping into the lives of strangers and trying to understand them. But it struck me as something much bigger than his job. It struck me as something closer to a way of life.
Theroux goes on: “if you go in as a sympathetic presence, or at least listening and paying attention, people for the most part are happy to open up and feel grateful for you being there.”
There’s something quietly radical about that. In a world where we’re often taught to perform, persuade, or posture — to win arguments, get results, hit targets — he suggests the opposite. Go in gently. Listen without the pressure to fix. Pay attention without needing to steer the story. Offer presence instead of solutions. The reward? People feel seen. People open up.
I think we forget how powerful that is.
I’ve seen it with loved ones who are grieving and don’t need advice, just company. I’ve seen it with new parents who aren’t asking for judgment, only recognition. I’ve seen it in work meetings where the most impactful thing isn’t a killer idea but a moment of shared honesty which enhanced a relationship. I’ve felt it in myself — how much lighter I become when someone is simply with me, not trying to solve a complaint.
Theroux’s approach is a reminder that people are not puzzles to be cracked or problems to be psychoanalysed. Most of us are just hoping for someone to really hear us. To sit with us without rushing to fill the silence. To ask questions not as a form of interrogation, but as an invitation to be known.
This isn’t just about interviewing people on camera. It’s about how we show up in our lives. Whether we’re leading a team, raising a child, comforting a friend, or navigating the everyday mess of being human — the same truth applies: building rapport, connection, trust — that’s the real work. That’s the foundation everything else rests on.
And yes, it won’t always work. Sometimes people won’t respond. Sometimes we’ll be met with resistance, with closed doors, with the limits of what we can reach. But even then, we’ll know we showed up as a sympathetic presence. We listened. We paid attention. We offered something quiet but rare.
And in a world that often rewards the loudest voice, maybe the most radical thing we can do… is simply to be there and be human.