Etymology: Developed by a troupe of actors in Chicago in the 1950s, and a cornerstone of improvisational comedy ever since, the concept of  “Yes, and…” is about fostering a collaborative spirit and maintaining momentum in a discussion.¹ “Yes”—accepting the idea; “and…”—expanding on it and adding something relevant.

Definition: “Yes, and…” makes perfect sense in the world of improv comedy, where sketches depend on performers building upon one another’s ideas. A scene would quickly fall apart if one actor announced, “Captain, our spaceship is heading straight toward that asteroid field!” and their partner replies, “That’s odd, given we’re actually in a 1950s diner....” But the method is not without its critics: Actor (and acting coach) Gary Schwartz, for example, has argued that “yes, and…” can add too much information, leading to performances that are “uninspired, ‘talky’ and not very theatrical.”

In the corporate world, “yes, and…” has taken off as a management ethos. But here the phrase runs into an obvious problem: Some ideas are just bad. And agreeing with everything everyone says can be counterproductive. Of course, no one should be pelted with tomatoes for speaking their mind at a meeting, but there’s a hint of noblesse oblige—an illusory sense of democracy—about “yes, and….” It’s often about making people feel as though they’re being listened to, rather than actually listening to them, or being bound by any obligation that listening to them might entail.

A 2017 article in Forbes, for example, suggests that if an employee asks for a pay raise, answering “Yes, I hear that you need to make more money, and that’s not possible right now” is more productive than “Yes, I hear that you need to make more money, but that’s not possible right now.” In this case, the argument for “yes, and…” is that it opens up the space for further communication. But if that dialogue ends with the request being denied—in a more drawn out and roundabout way—is it really any better than “Sorry, but no”?