Are you too kind?

Dear reader,

My negotiating skills are virtually non-existent. Whilst discussing my first permanent contract, my boss asked me what salary I thought I deserved. The answer I wanted to give was the worst possible – that of a young active beggar, stripped of all self-esteem: “Your price is mine!” I ended up throwing the question back at him. Whatever his proposal was going to be, my answer was ready-made: “Perfect!” The main thing was to avoid confrontation. Here’s another example: As I was coming out of the bakery the other day, I realised the tuna sandwich I had just bought was topped with an omelette. I thought about going back, before changing my mind… which I quickly regretted.

For a long time I consoled myself for my lack of combativeness by seeing it as an unfortunate consequence of other moral qualities: my flexibility, my adaptable and conciliatory nature. In all social groups, I have always been amazed that some sacrifice harmony to defend their personal interest. But on reflection, candor is also a practical necessity. After all, if we didn’t require a minimum of sincerity from each other, we would constantly be suspecting each other of lying. And then, you don’t get very far with “as you wish” and “everything’s fine with me”.

In fact, we could situate any social interaction on an axis that would have two incompatible attitudes as extremities: adaptability on the one hand, authenticity on the other. The first is the ability to put the general interest before your own, to defend harmony. The second is loyalty to yourself, to your personal commitments and values – a way of investing your true self in your words, thoughts, and actions. We’re constantly torn between these two poles, at work even more than elsewhere. Yesterday, the big pet peeve among employers was rebellion. You had to adapt, period. Today, they fear disengagement and weariness. Since you have to be “proactive” or “assertive” to catch the boss’ eye, we face many new dilemmas. One thing is certain: you cannot at the same time be discreet and assertive, flexible and categorical. So the pressing question is: should we speak up, or keep mum?

‘The condition of man in his modernity is dissonance’

—Vladimir Jankelevitch

For Jankélévitch, this question goes far beyond social relations; it’s even an “alternative morality”. “The condition of man in his modernity is dissonance. We cannot unite everything we love and respect in the same head, in a single camp, and under the same flag. […] The sky of values ​​is a torn one, and our torn life is a reflection of this torn sky.” (Somewhere in the Unfinished, 1978). He offers a very poetic description of the ethical puzzles of everyday life, but does he find any solution? It’s certainly not Jankélévitch who will give us any categorical imperative, such as “always be sincere”, “always be altruistic” or on the contrary, “always selfish”. For the philosopher, the solution lies closer to the ground.

According to Jankélévitch, it’s serious intention and personal commitment that give our actions their morality. The moral subject must translate their intention into action. “You have to let the contradictions live, and when you have something important to do, you have to do it first, even if you seem to be contradicting yourself.”

When we hesitate between accommodating others and inconveniencing others, morality therefore doesn’t relate to the nature of the option chosen. Your decision will be the right one if it translates your intention into action and if you put your heart into it. Which means that being complacent and hypocritical could even be virtuous, as long as the intention is serious!

As far as I’m concerned, my concessions are often less the result of serious intentions than of social reflexes. We all have courtesy reflexes, some of which are bodily in nature, such as a smile or a nod. Yes, they’re a necessary condition for living together, but they’re also capable of making us lose sight of our “seriousness”, in the sense that Jankélévitch understands it – that is to say, our deep intention. This is namely the case when our sense of civility leads us to making concessions by default. When we say we’re on strike, but we still come to work so as not to slow others down, for example. Or when I sign a contract blindly, then blame myself for not trying to negotiate. Should we let ourselves be walked over for the common good? If that’s seriously your intention, why not? But no-one should pass off their instincts of courtesy for kindness. So should we speak up or keep quiet? Deep down, it doesn’t matter – as long as the heart is in it!

Athénaïs Gagey

Picture © Marina Demeshko / iStockphoto