Written By: Dr. Aza Tetelman

How to Know a Person — David Brooks

Some thoughts on recognition, complexity, and the wish to be understood

What does it mean to know another person — really know them — beyond what they present, beyond our own projections, beyond the roles they inhabit?

This is a question I return to often in my work as a therapist, and one that David Brooks explores thoughtfully in How to Know a Person. The book isn’t a manual or checklist. It’s more of a meditation on what it takes to pay attention. Brooks asks what it means to approach people with genuine curiosity, rather than assumption or control.

He describes two kinds of people: those who expand our sense of self and those who unintentionally narrow it. The language is simple, but the idea is not. Most of us have had the experience of being interpreted rather than understood, and many people adapt to that without realizing how much they’ve lost in the process.

This is something I encounter often in therapy. Many people come in carrying the quiet discomfort of having gone unseen for a long time. They may not even realize it until they start speaking and notice what it feels like to be listened to without judgment, without interruption, and without the pressure to simplify or explain themselves. Sometimes therapy begins not with insight, but with the experience of being met differently.

Brooks’ reflections align closely with how I think about the therapeutic process. In relational and psychodynamic work, we make space for what is ambiguous, unresolved, and in progress. We don’t rush to organize people into neat narratives that feel satisfying but leave something important out.

The book also resonates with existential therapy, which centers on what it means to be a person in the world: facing uncertainty, isolation, responsibility, and freedom. That framework recognizes we can never be fully known by another, but the wish to be seen remains deeply human. Even temporary moments of recognition can be grounding. They don’t remove existential aloneness, but they can soften it.

Outside of therapy, this kind of presence is still rare. Most of us are not encouraged to slow down, ask thoughtful questions, or stay with what someone else is saying without rushing to respond or fix. It takes effort to resist the pull of clarity and efficiency in favor of depth and nuance.

In my practice, I often integrate books like this into the work in a kind of therapeutic book club. My patients read between sessions, and so do I. Then we reflect together on what stands out, what stirs something, what feels familiar or challenging. The reading is structured, but not rigid. It’s another way of deepening the process — not separate from the work, but part of it.

Thank you for reading. I hope this offers something meaningful to you, wherever you are in your own exploration.

About the author
Dr. Aza Tetelman is a licensed psychologist specializing in depth-oriented therapy. In their work, they explore themes of presence, depth, and the experience of being seen. To get in touch, please visit:

The Clinic of California | UnitedHealth Group/Optum

Disclaimer: This review reflects personal opinions and is not a substitute for professional medical advice or care.