2 How to Criticize—and Not Be Hated for It

Charles Schwab was passing through one of his steel mills one day at noon when he came across some of his employees smoking. Immediately above their heads was a sign that said, “No Smoking.” Did Schwab point to the sign and say, “Can’t you read?” Oh, no, not Schwab. He walked over to the men, handed each one a cigar, and said, “I’ll appreciate it, boys, if you will smoke these on the outside.” They knew that he knew that they had broken a rule—and they admired him because he said nothing about it and gave them a little present and made them feel important. Couldn’t keep from loving a man like that, could you?

John Wanamaker used the same technique. Wanamaker made a tour of his great store in Philadelphia every day. Once, he saw a customer waiting at a counter. No one was paying the slightest attention to her. The salespeople? Oh, they were in a huddle at the far end of the counter laughing and talking among themselves. Wanamaker didn’t say a word. Quietly slipping behind the counter, he waited on the woman himself and then handed the purchase to the salespeople to be wrapped as he went on his way.

Wanamaker chose to demonstrate what he wanted rather than to verbally criticize his employees. There are times, though, when a situation requires a more direct approach. And while there are tactful ways to say what you want, there is one three-letter word that destroys that intention: the word “but.” It is poison. It delivers criticism in the guise of a compliment and subtly cloaks the true meaning of a statement. “Your dress is lovely but that color is unbecoming to you” or “You passed the last test with flying colors but you are still failing the class.” One molehill of a word can make a mountain of difference. When “but” appears, the praise, however sincere, proves to be a mere lead-in to what you really want to say. When used as sugarcoating, what began as a genuine compliment has now turned as sour as forgotten milk. The word “but” means trouble and the person on the receiving end knows it.

Don’t use it! Find a better and more honest way to present your case.

On March 8, 1887, the eloquent Henry Ward Beecher died. The following Sunday, Lyman Abbott was invited to speak in the pulpit left silent by Beecher’s passing. Eager to do his best, he wrote, rewrote, and polished his sermon with the meticulous care of a Flaubert. Then he read it to his wife. It was poor—as most written speeches are. She might have said, if she had had less judgment, “Lyman, that is terrible. That’ll never do. You’ll put people to sleep. It reads like an encyclopedia. You ought to know better than that after all the years you have been preaching. For heaven’s sake, why don’t you talk like a human being? Why don’t you act natural? You’ll disgrace yourself if you ever read that stuff.”

That’s what she might have said. And, if she had, you know what would have happened. And she knew, too. So, she merely remarked that it would make an excellent article for the North American Review. In other words, she praised it and at the same time subtly suggested that it wouldn’t do as a speech. Lyman Abbott saw the point, tore up his carefully prepared manuscript, and preached without even using notes.

An effective way to correct others’ mistakes is…

PRINCIPLE 2

Call attention to people’s mistakes indirectly.