The Nice, the Difficult, and the Wimp
SOME NATIVE AMERICANS, primarily the Sioux and the Navaho, will look you in the eye under only two conditions: Either they happen to be your blood brother or sister (highly unlikely) or they’re measuring you for the kill. Other Native Americans see a handshake as a sign of deference, and thus will offer a weak open hand and close it gently, considering the vigorous gripping of a hand as a sign of aggression and superiority. Many Hispanics are taught not to even glance directly into people’s eyes, an act considered by several cultures as snooping on the soul. Many Asians still observe the gesture of looking at one’s shoes as a sign of respect.
As our society becomes more culturally diverse, whites are quickly being displaced as a majority. There is a rising chorus of minority voices and an incalculable number of intercultural do’s and don’t’s to be learned.
To calm someone brought up in the Western world, most people know to get outta his face and outta his space. Back off, give him some room. Yet when dealing with someone from the Middle East, say, an Egyptian or a Iranian, backing away from him would be the equivalent of telling Jewish American Princess jokes at the local synagogue. Moving away from a Middle Easterner tells him he is unworthy of your respect. Better to move closer, to speak reassuringly, to tell him, “It’s going to be all right.” Even a slight touch on the shoulder will do wonders.
How do we keep track of all this? Move in? Step back? Look a person in the eye? Look at his feet? It could make you crazy.
In Southern California they’ve got a real challenge. In Garden Grove, a medium-sized city about fifty miles south of Los Angeles, at least thirty-three different languages represent more than one hundred distinct cultures. Shopkeepers, gas station attendants, anybody who deals with the public, has to routinely deal with all these groups.
I’ve warned cops that if they serve even a minor felony warrant in a Thai or Laotian home they’ve got to be extremely careful not to step or stand on the threshold. In those homes the spirits of departed ancestors are believed to reside in the cracks of the threshold, and someone stepping or standing on that crack gives the resident the right to slap the offender upside the head. If you don’t know the local customs and superstitions somewhere, it’s better to politely ask, “May I come in? May I stand here? Do you mind if I . . . ?”
I don’t even attempt to train people in the subtleties of handling all the different peoples in the world. That would be virtually impossible. You’ll be happy to know that there is a far simpler method for effectively dealing with people. All you need know is that there are three basic types of people in the world, and each should be handled differently. These types cut across all cultures, races, nationalities, ages, and sexes.
There are Nice People, Difficult People, and Wimps.
If you’re in a position of authority, Nice People will do what you ask them to do the first time you ask them. They like to cooperate. Tell a Nice Child to pick up his belongings, and he’ll do it, probably right away. Tell a Nice Person to send in a payment, and the money arrives on time.
Nice People don’t shake their fingers in the boss’s face. They don’t complain to hotel managers that their room is too close to the elevator or not close enough. They don’t send food back to the kitchen if it arrives slightly over or undercooked.
My grandfather was a Nice Person. If he was stopped by a cop, he’d do exactly what he was told, automatically, even if the cop was nasty about it. As an attorney, he believed in the law more than he cared about a particular officer’s execution of it. My grandfather would never give a cop any trouble, let alone anyone else. He considered it more egregious to make a scene than to make a point.
Nice People often have such a hard time saying no or sticking up for their rights that entire books have been written about them, such as Co-Dependent No More, The Doormat Syndrome, and Women Who Love Too Much.
Nice People are not your problem, but it’s still wise to treat them as if they’re important. If you don’t treat them well, they may do what you want but will feel rotten about it. You’ll lose credibility with them and gradually they’ll stop supporting you. Besides, just because they are cooperative is no reason to take advantage of them or take them for granted. Treating them with respect is right because it’s right. So few people are cooperative that you have to cultivate and cherish the ones who are.
I don’t fit in the Nice People category. Maybe you don’t either. I happen to be one of the Difficult People. By definition Difficult People will not do what you tell them the first time you ask. It doesn’t matter how diplomatic you are. It’s simply not in their nature to say, “Oh yes.” Their nature makes them say, “Why? What for?” Difficult People are as eager to argue a point as Nice People are to cooperate.
Difficult People are also often persnickety. They would have no hesitation about interviewing a teacher before they decided whether to enroll in a class. They think nothing of insisting that a merchant pay shipping on an item that was out of stock when they visited the store.
Remember Meg Ryan’s Sally to Billy Crystal’s Harry in the movie When Harry Met Sally? When Harry orders his meal, he says, “I’ll have the number three.” Sally says, “I’d like the chef’s salad, please, with oil and vinegar on the side and apple pie à la mode. But I’d like the pie heated and I don’t want the ice cream on top. If not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream, but only if it’s real. If it’s out of a can, then nothing.”
“Not even the pie?” asks the waitress.
“No,” says Sally, “just the pie but then not heated.”
You can be sure that if the waitress had told Sally it was impossible to substitute strawberry for vanilla, Sally would have wanted to know why.
The word why throws people off, especially those not accustomed to having their orders challenged. When I first went on the streets as a cop, the word really irritated me. It seemed it was all I heard.
“Step over here a minute please, sir.”
“Why? What’d I do?”
“May I see your driver’s license?”
“Why?”
In those days I barked, “Because I asked for it,” acting pompous and inviting a tough time.
Gradually I learned that why is the bottom line in America. That little word can be one of the most powerfully destructive or constructive words in any language. It is the Horatio Alger question that built this country and tore down the Berlin Wall. Thirty years of the cold war didn’t do that. It was the word why. The Soviet Union disintegrated when the Russian republics began asking, “Why should we take our orders from Moscow?”
Why is the word that created everything from lunar landings to drive-through hamburger joints. It is the word that irritates parents more than any other, but it also is a sign that children are growing up and maturing.
“Why?” is the most American question there is. The second and third most American questions—and sure to infuriate—are “Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?” and “Where do you get your authority?”
The fourth all-American inquiry, which, if you can answer it, will help you deal with the first three, is “What’s in it for me?”
When Difficult People challenge your authority, it is usually pointless to explain why you’ve asked them to do something. They may not even care that you are authorized to make your request. They may not even care about the consequences of failing to obey. But they are always interested in how the deal might benefit them. When I want voluntary compliance from a Difficult Person, I explain early on what’s in it for him. As clearly and specifically as I can, I show him what he has to gain. Only when that doesn’t work will I tell him what he stands to lose.
With kids it may be useful to inform them that if they keep their room clean every day they will be entitled to a long session of unsupervised Nintendo madness. If that’s not enough incentive, remind them they will forfeit the same privilege if they insist on living in a pigsty.
The first principle of physical judo is to not resist your opponent. Instead, move with him and redirect his energy. Ignoring or dismissing a question is the same as resisting it. In Verbal Judo you do not try to shut out pesky questioning of your authority, reasons, or methods. It’s important to always answer, rather than dismiss the question when someone asks why.
Instead, leap into those questions, turn them into outrageous opportunities. See questions as invitations to explain yourself, to tell what you do, to fill someone in on your views. Here’s the chance to educate a person, to win his respect, and provide him with deeper understanding so he won’t go away angry.
Say a library patron demands to know why citizens have to pay late-return penalties on materials that are public property. The librarian could snap that such penalties are meant to discourage tardiness and discourtesy and thus keep the materials available to a wider range of people. But that tone would insult the patron. How much better to calmly explain with a smile that the fines pay for videotapes, lecture programs, books, periodicals, and many other wonderful things the patrons enjoy without charge.
I stopped being irritated at Difficult People asking “Why?” all the time when I realized that I am one of them. They’re my kind of people! When someone says, “No, that’s wrong. You can’t do that to me. What gives you the right to tell me what to do?” I get interested. That’s a challenge. I actually enjoy it now when Difficult People look me in the eye and say, “Why do I have to do that?” It gives me the opportunity to explain why it’s in their best interest to comply.
Difficult People built this country. We need to allow room in our system for them and their questions. If you can carry this mind-set with you, one that appreciates other people’s sense of dignity and self-worth, curiosity and healthy suspicion, you’ll never be upset by people who initially challenge your authority. You’ll never back away from fussbudgets who nag you to do something especially for them when it’s not in your repertoire of services. You’ll never go home with a knot in your stomach because you were asked to explain the reasons for what you did or didn’t do.
There’s a big payoff in all this: When you shift from resisting to appreciating and even welcoming Difficult People, things become interesting and less tense.
The toughest bird of all is the Wimp. Wimps are the ones who sound like Nice People but are closet Difficult People. To your face they say, “Oh yes,” “I agree,” “You’re right.” They may even compliment you on your words, ideas, or even clothes. They’ve got the courtesy rap down cold. But later they get you back, in the back, baby.
These backstabbers are customers or colleagues who act friendly and pretend all is well with your relationship. Then they bitch about you to your boss, to their friends, and to anyone else who’ll listen (and who doesn’t love to listen to bad mouthing?). These are the people who will file lawsuits and hire a lawyer to do their fighting for them. If you’ve ever had a complaint that took you by surprise, you can bet it came from a Wimp, someone who didn’t have the guts to tell you to your face that he had a problem. Generally you can assume that you didn’t handle the Wimp properly when you first encountered him or you didn’t recognize him as a Wimp and see the grievance coming. Admittedly, most Wimps are good at Wimpdom, making them hard to detect.
Wimps do not like authority. They hate being told what to do. On the other hand, they don’t have the guts to challenge you. Wimps want revenge. They feel the need to even the score. These are the ones who snipe from the corner, sitting in meetings and making disparaging remarks just loud enough to be heard by a few and generate laughs of derision.
I frequently face Wimps in my classes, yes even among cops. I have found the best way to deal with them is to strip them of their camouflage. Not honest enough to be straightforward Difficult People—who are much easier to deal with—Wimps usually want to hide behind other people. Often they sit in the back of a room or against the wall or near a pillar or post.
When I’m teaching Verbal Judo and I hear people mutter, “That’s a bunch of garbage,” I don’t let it pass.
I say, “Excuse me, what was that you said? I’d like to know.” When they try to wave me off or laugh it away, I persist. “No, tell me so I can speak to it.”
The Wimp has been stripped of his cover and now he has to put up or shut up. Now he can either make a legitimate point, ask a question, or shut up. And if he shuts up he has lost credibility with his peers. If nothing else, that eliminates the sniping.
Many think it’s best to ignore Wimps, but that’s just another form of resisting them. Ignored or resisted, they grow stronger. The basic principle here is to confront them honestly. They immediately weaken.
Resist the urge to gossip about these people or snipe back at them. Those are Wimp techniques, and they are often better at them than you are, unless you too are a Wimp.
Outside of my training sessions, in private, I’m even more direct with Wimps. Notice that when I’m flushing them out of their cover in the class setting I’m not embarrassing them. I’m letting them embarrass themselves. If they have a good point or something constructive to say or ask, they can. I haven’t put them down or challenged them. I’ve merely courteously asked them to repeat their comment or question because I missed it. Privately, however, I might be more straightforward. “I understand what you’re doing,” I’ll say. “If you continue, we’re going to have a problem. I won’t put up with this.”
The pure Wimp, true to form, will immediately back down and even apologize. I still watch them like hawks, however.
Exposure is totally unsettling to Wimps. Once you’ve blown their chicken-hearted covers, by and large they will leave you alone. They’ll either realize that their tactics don’t work with you and give up, or they’ll find someone else to bother.
Learning to identify and distinguish the Nice, the Difficult, and the Wimp is a basic first step in your journey of mastering Verbal Judo.