Psychology & Ethics · March 2026
Emotional Intelligence: Skill Nobody Taught You That Shapes Everything Else
Emotional intelligence has been called the “it factor” of success, the secret ingredient behind great leaders, great relationships, and better decisions. It has also been badly explained for decades. Here is a clearer account — and three questions that can immediately make you better at it.
Think of the last time you said something you immediately wished you could take back. A sharp reply in a meeting. A text sent in frustration. A comment at the dinner table that landed harder than you meant it to. In the moment before you said it, there was a window — a gap, barely a second wide — where a different choice was available. You didn’t take it. Most of us don’t, not reliably, not under pressure, not when it matters most.
That gap — and what you do with it — is where emotional intelligence lives.
Justin Bariso has spent over a decade writing about emotional intelligence, coaching founders and leaders, and translating a field full of academic jargon into something ordinary people can actually use. His book, EQ Applied, has been translated into a dozen languages. His column draws over a million readers a month. And the question he gets asked most often, the one that opens almost every conversation he has on the subject, is the simplest one: What is emotional intelligence, really?
The question persists, Bariso says, because most of what’s out there on the topic is “cloudy, fuzzy, full of theory, fluff, and vibes, but not well defined or easy to understand.” So here is a clearer account, built on the three things Bariso believes you actually need to know — and three questions that can immediately sharpen your EQ, starting today.
Thing 1: What Emotional Intelligence Actually Is
The shortest accurate definition Bariso has found is this: emotional intelligence is the ability to understand and manage emotions. He prefers to phrase it as “making emotions work for you, instead of against you.”
That includes your own emotions and those of the people around you. And it goes further than just “how you feel.” Emotional intelligence covers everything that happens when our feelings intersect with our choices — how we decide what to say, when to say it, how to respond to someone else’s bad day, how to hold our nerve in a difficult conversation, how to recover after we’ve handled something badly.
What Does “Managing Emotions” Actually Mean?
It’s Not About Suppressing How You Feel
Managing your emotions does not mean not having them. It does not mean smiling through things that hurt, or pretending to be calm when you’re not. It means that your emotions don’t automatically run the show. You feel the anger, the anxiety, the disappointment — and then, instead of immediately acting on it, you have a moment of awareness where you can choose your response. That awareness is the foundation. Without it, emotions don’t get managed; they just happen, and you clean up afterward.
Research originally pioneered by psychologists Peter Salovey and John Mayer in the early 1990s, and later popularised by Daniel Goleman‘s landmark 1995 book Emotional Intelligence, has consistently shown that EQ is a better predictor of long-term success — in careers, relationships, and health — than IQ alone.
IQ gets you the job. EQ determines whether you thrive in it. The person who is technically brilliant but leaves a trail of damaged relationships in every room they enter is a common archetype. So is the person who isn’t the smartest in the room but has an uncanny ability to read what’s happening, say the right thing at the right moment, and make everyone feel heard. The second person often goes further.
Thing 2: What Emotional Intelligence Is Not
One of the most common misunderstandings about emotional intelligence is that it means being perpetually nice. Agreeable. Conflict-averse. The person who never pushes back, never delivers hard news, never says anything that might upset someone.
This is not emotional intelligence. It is emotional avoidance — and it often does more harm than a difficult conversation would have.
Bariso is insistent on this point. High EQ does not mean you never confront. It does not mean you suppress your reactions or give everyone a pass. It means you can deliver hard feedback in a way that the other person can actually hear. It means you can disagree without demolishing. It means you can be honest without being cruel. The goal isn’t to remove your emotions from the equation. It’s to find the right balance between what you feel and what serves the situation.
EQ Is Not the Same as Empathy
And Empathy Has Its Own Limits
Empathy — the ability to sense and share another person’s feelings — is a part of emotional intelligence, but it is not the whole of it. Unmanaged empathy can actually work against you. If you absorb everyone’s distress as your own, if you feel all the pain in a room and have nothing left to give, that’s not high EQ — that’s burnout. Bariso calls the alternative “emotionally intelligent empathy”: learning to show genuine care for others without losing yourself in their experience. It’s the difference between a therapist who helps their patient and a therapist who goes home and can’t function because they took on every patient’s weight.
The second common misunderstanding is that EQ is a fixed trait — that you either have it or you don’t. Bariso’s entire career is built on the opposite premise: emotional intelligence is a skill, and skills can be learned. You are not stuck at the level of emotional awareness you had at twenty-two. Every difficult conversation you handle well, every moment of self-restraint, every time you pause before you react and choose your response instead — these are reps in a gym. They build something.
Thing 3: Emotional Intelligence Runs on Decision-Making, Not Just Feeling
This is the piece that most EQ content skips. Emotional intelligence is not only about how you experience emotions. It is about how emotions underpin every decision you make.
We are, as Bariso puts it plainly, “emotional creatures.” We like to think of ourselves as rational agents who weigh evidence and arrive at logical conclusions. Decades of neuroscience and behavioural economics have dismantled that flattering self-image. We feel first. We rationalise second. The story we tell ourselves about why we did something usually comes after we’ve already done it. Which means the emotion that drove the decision — the irritation, the pride, the fear, the desire to be liked — is the actual mechanism, whether we acknowledge it or not.
High EQ doesn’t eliminate this. It makes it visible. When you can see the emotion that’s driving you — I’m reacting this way because I feel undermined, not because the argument is actually wrong — you have a choice about whether to act on it. When you can’t see it, you don’t.
The Three Questions That Actually Change Your Behaviour
Theory is useful. Practice is what actually changes things. And the most practically useful tool Bariso says he has encountered for improving emotional intelligence is not a framework from an academic study. It came from a comedian.
Bariso was watching an interview with Craig Ferguson — the Scottish-American comedian and former Late Late Show host — when Ferguson said something he couldn’t shake. Before you say anything, Ferguson told the interviewer, you should always ask yourself three questions:
The Three Questions
1. Does this need to be said?
Before you open your mouth, check whether what you’re about to say actually needs to exist in the world. A lot of what we say — in arguments, in group chats, on social media — adds noise without adding anything useful. This question is a filter.
2. Does this need to be said by me?
Sometimes something genuinely does need to be said — but you’re not the right person to say it. Maybe you’re too emotionally involved. Maybe you don’t have the relationship with this person that would make the message land. Maybe someone else could say it better, or is better placed to say it without escalating the situation. This question saves you from the missionary impulse to correct everything you see, everywhere, always.
3. Does this need to be said by me, right now?
Even if something needs to be said, and even if you’re the right person to say it — timing matters more than most of us admit. A conversation had when someone is exhausted or defensive or already overwhelmed lands differently than the same conversation had when they’re calm and receptive. This question is about choosing the moment, not just having the courage.
Ferguson joked that it took him three marriages to learn this lesson. Bariso says he uses the rule every single day — often more than once. It takes about three seconds to run through the three questions. In those three seconds, it catches a remark that would have started an argument, a message that would have created a misunderstanding, a comment that would have been technically true and entirely unhelpful.
The questions work because they introduce a pause — that fraction-of-a-second gap between feeling and acting — and fill it with intention rather than impulse. This is, in its simplest form, what emotional intelligence practice looks like. Not therapy. Not journaling for hours. Just three questions, asked before you speak.
Why This Matters More Now Than Ever
There is a specific reason that emotional intelligence — a concept that has been around in academic literature since the early 1990s — feels increasingly urgent in the present moment. Bariso names it directly: as artificial intelligence takes over more of the technical, analytical, and knowledge-processing tasks that humans used to do exclusively, the skills that remain irreducibly human are precisely the ones EQ encompasses. Empathy. Context-reading. Relationship-building. The ability to sit with discomfort and respond rather than react.
AI can write the memo. It cannot read the room.
The other reason is more personal and less technological. We are living through a period of extraordinary friction — political, social, institutional — and most of the tools we use to communicate with each other amplify exactly the wrong impulses. Social media rewards the sharp take, the immediate reaction, the satisfying demolition of an opposing view. The three questions are almost structurally incompatible with how most people use the internet. Which is also why asking them, deliberately and consistently, is becoming more unusual — and therefore more valuable.
Go back to that moment at the beginning — the comment you wished you could take back, the message sent in frustration, the remark that landed harder than you meant. In almost every one of those cases, the three questions would have caught it. Does this need to be said? By me? Right now?
The answer, more often than we’d like to admit, is no. Not because we don’t have a point. Not because our feelings aren’t valid. But because the moment isn’t right, or the delivery won’t work, or the energy spent on a reply that satisfies our impulse to correct or retaliate costs more than the alternative of simply letting it pass.
Emotional intelligence, at its most practical, is the skill of knowing the difference. You can start practising it in your next conversation. The three-second test costs nothing. The payoff, compounded across years of relationships and decisions, is significant. Ferguson took three marriages to figure it out. You don’t have to.
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Steve Ovett, the famous British middle-distance athlete, won the 800-metres gold medal at the Moscow Olympics of 1980. Just a few days later, he was about to win a 5,000-metres race at London’s Crystal Palace. Known for his burst of acceleration on the home stretch, he had supreme confidence in his ability to out-sprint rivals. With the final 100 metres remaining,
[wptelegram-join-channel link=”https://t.me/s/upsctree” text=”Join @upsctree on Telegram”]Ovett waved to the crowd and raised a hand in triumph. But he had celebrated a bit too early. At the finishing line, Ireland’s John Treacy edged past Ovett. For those few moments, Ovett had lost his sense of reality and ignored the possibility of a negative event.
This analogy works well for the India story and our policy failures , including during the ongoing covid pandemic. While we have never been as well prepared or had significant successes in terms of growth stability as Ovett did in his illustrious running career, we tend to celebrate too early. Indeed, we have done so many times before.
It is as if we’re convinced that India is destined for greater heights, come what may, and so we never run through the finish line. Do we and our policymakers suffer from a collective optimism bias, which, as the Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman once wrote, “may well be the most significant of the cognitive biases”? The optimism bias arises from mistaken beliefs which form expectations that are better than the reality. It makes us underestimate chances of a negative outcome and ignore warnings repeatedly.
The Indian economy had a dream run for five years from 2003-04 to 2007-08, with an average annual growth rate of around 9%. Many believed that India was on its way to clocking consistent double-digit growth and comparisons with China were rife. It was conveniently overlooked that this output expansion had come mainly came from a few sectors: automobiles, telecom and business services.
Indians were made to believe that we could sprint without high-quality education, healthcare, infrastructure or banking sectors, which form the backbone of any stable economy. The plan was to build them as we went along, but then in the euphoria of short-term success, it got lost.
India’s exports of goods grew from $20 billion in 1990-91 to over $310 billion in 2019-20. Looking at these absolute figures it would seem as if India has arrived on the world stage. However, India’s share of global trade has moved up only marginally. Even now, the country accounts for less than 2% of the world’s goods exports.
More importantly, hidden behind this performance was the role played by one sector that should have never made it to India’s list of exports—refined petroleum. The share of refined petroleum exports in India’s goods exports increased from 1.4% in 1996-97 to over 18% in 2011-12.
An import-intensive sector with low labour intensity, exports of refined petroleum zoomed because of the then policy regime of a retail price ceiling on petroleum products in the domestic market. While we have done well in the export of services, our share is still less than 4% of world exports.
India seemed to emerge from the 2008 global financial crisis relatively unscathed. But, a temporary demand push had played a role in the revival—the incomes of many households, both rural and urban, had shot up. Fiscal stimulus to the rural economy and implementation of the Sixth Pay Commission scales had led to the salaries of around 20% of organized-sector employees jumping up. We celebrated, but once again, neither did we resolve the crisis brewing elsewhere in India’s banking sector, nor did we improve our capacity for healthcare or quality education.
Employment saw little economy-wide growth in our boom years. Manufacturing jobs, if anything, shrank. But we continued to celebrate. Youth flocked to low-productivity service-sector jobs, such as those in hotels and restaurants, security and other services. The dependence on such jobs on one hand and high-skilled services on the other was bound to make Indian society more unequal.
And then, there is agriculture, an elephant in the room. If and when farm-sector reforms get implemented, celebrations would once again be premature. The vast majority of India’s farmers have small plots of land, and though these farms are at least as productive as larger ones, net absolute incomes from small plots can only be meagre.
A further rise in farm productivity and consequent increase in supply, if not matched by a demand rise, especially with access to export markets, would result in downward pressure on market prices for farm produce and a further decline in the net incomes of small farmers.
We should learn from what John Treacy did right. He didn’t give up, and pushed for the finish line like it was his only chance at winning. Treacy had years of long-distance practice. The same goes for our economy. A long grind is required to build up its base before we can win and celebrate. And Ovett did not blame anyone for his loss. We play the blame game. Everyone else, right from China and the US to ‘greedy corporates’, seems to be responsible for our failures.
We have lowered absolute poverty levels and had technology-based successes like Aadhaar and digital access to public services. But there are no short cuts to good quality and adequate healthcare and education services. We must remain optimistic but stay firmly away from the optimism bias.
In the end, it is not about how we start, but how we finish. The disastrous second wave of covid and our inability to manage it is a ghastly reminder of this fact.