Not just me
I had a "review" with the president of my company a week or two ago that's been bothering me a lot ever since. Instead of critiquing my work (clearly because it's nigh on perfection), she chose to critique my interaction skills, or rather the lack thereof. It's a weakness I'm sensitive about, as you all probably know, and having her analyze it with cold detachment pretty much completely un-nerved me. I'm now, says she, supposed to work on saying things in a nicer way. I had a long talk with an equally socially-disinclined coworker about it, and she sent me the following quote:
From The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand (very slightly abbreviated and religious profanity removed). On the topic of various ways of saying things.
(Peter:) "Dominique, I'd like to know what you think."
Dominique) "Of what?"
"Of Vincent Knowlton."
"I think he's a man worth kissing the backside of."
"For heaven's sake, Dominique!"
"I'm sorry. It's bad English and bad manners. It's wrong, of course. Well, let's see, Vincent Knowlton is a man who it's pleasant to know. Old families deserve a great deal of consideration, and we must have tolerance for the opinions of others, because tolerance is the greatest virtue, therefore, it would be unfair to force your views on Vincent Knowlton, and if you just let him believe what he pleases, he will be glad to help you, too, because he's a very human person."
"Now that's sensible." He felt at home in recognizable language. "I think tolerance is very important because..." He stopped. He finished, in an empty voice, "You said exactly the same thing as before."
"Did you notice that" she said. She said it without a question mark, indifferently, as a simple fact. It was not sarcasm; he wished it were. Sarcasm would have granted him personal recognition - a desire to hurt him. But her voice had never carried any personal relation to him, not for twenty months."
I wish I had the guts to print it and hand it to her. Ah well.
From The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand (very slightly abbreviated and religious profanity removed). On the topic of various ways of saying things.
(Peter:) "Dominique, I'd like to know what you think."
Dominique) "Of what?"
"Of Vincent Knowlton."
"I think he's a man worth kissing the backside of."
"For heaven's sake, Dominique!"
"I'm sorry. It's bad English and bad manners. It's wrong, of course. Well, let's see, Vincent Knowlton is a man who it's pleasant to know. Old families deserve a great deal of consideration, and we must have tolerance for the opinions of others, because tolerance is the greatest virtue, therefore, it would be unfair to force your views on Vincent Knowlton, and if you just let him believe what he pleases, he will be glad to help you, too, because he's a very human person."
"Now that's sensible." He felt at home in recognizable language. "I think tolerance is very important because..." He stopped. He finished, in an empty voice, "You said exactly the same thing as before."
"Did you notice that" she said. She said it without a question mark, indifferently, as a simple fact. It was not sarcasm; he wished it were. Sarcasm would have granted him personal recognition - a desire to hurt him. But her voice had never carried any personal relation to him, not for twenty months."
I wish I had the guts to print it and hand it to her. Ah well.