The hygienist parable

What do we want when we visit the hygienist? Scaling, cleaning, fluoride…sure.

But I think that most people also want respect.

Yesterday, I sat down in the chair of a perfectly nice woman. She was middle aged, well dressed, silvering hair, and a welcoming smile. She is the new hygienist at my dentist’s office.

As my mouth was filled with gauze, water jets and that rude-sounding suctioning device, I was asked a few questions. Did I have any problems with my teeth. I shook my head “no.” Did I find it challenging to floss certain parts of my mouth. Again, no.

Then, the questions started to become more pointed and complex, and my responses of head shaking were insufficient (and thus I was rendered mute). The observations and related advice started to flow:

You should show me how to brush (with the clear but silent assertion that I was obviously doing it wrong);

The gaps between your molars are not being flossed well. (that is to say that there are areas of my mouth that I am clearly NOT flossing properly;

I’m sorry to tell you that I would characterize you as having gingivitis...and that is what I'll note in your file today. (the announcement of her findings for which I was being punished);

Finally, the medical community now recognizes the connection between oral health and heart disease. (add her tone, and the translation becomes: brush or death will come knocking)

The longer she spoke to me, the more patronizing her tone.

I didn’t get “lectured” about my sometimes less that perfect oral health, but I did get instructions as if I was an 8-year old. I started to resent her assumption that oral hygiene was the only thing that could possibly be of importance in my life. When she started to infer that my mild gingivitis was a “risk factor” for heart disease, I wanted to scream through the suction tube that I think my extra 40 lbs and my grandfather's aortic aneurysm were likely larger determinants in any early demise I may suffer.

The part that annoyed me was that I had gone into the dentist this time with pride. I had painstakingly developed a much improved daily schedule of brushing and flossing since my last visit, and I was really looking forward to a little praise for the diminished tartar build up.

However, as I said, she was new.

Her only perspective on my mouth was her current view, and a few cryptic notes and x-rays in my file that spoke of cavities, caps, and dates. My file, apparently, did not document the years of “soft reproach” I had received from the last hygienist that had led me to gradually adopt improved behaviors.

Finally, to seek some reprieve from this "treatment," I changed the subject by asking whether the admittedly very nice photographs in her room were her own.

This story, although true and a very recent personal experience, is a social marketing parable.

It reaffirms my opinions about trying to direct a person’s actions:

1. Don’t be overly paternalistic or maternal in your tone; even children like to be treated with respect.
2. Don’t assume that your message is the only important message in their life.
3. Be aware that if your audience is giving up something of value (or worse, PAYING) to listen, you don’t have carte blanche to say anything you like.
4. Give your audience a chance to respond.
5. Trying to scare your audience into action by giving them a worst-case scenario may be counter productive, especially if the link is tenuous.
6. Don’t be disingenuous: don’t disguise your message in a kind, friendly demeanor that only appears benevolent.
7. Ensure that your message reinforces existing good habits and actions.
8. Don’t focus on the negative exclusively.
9. Make sure that your audience research includes “soft” information and not only statistics and facts.
10. Don't make it so that your audience feels compelled to change the subject. (or flee!)

Who knew that a visit to the dentist could be so illuminating?