Recently, I asked a friend how much he earns.
“None of your fucking business!” he snorted.
Let me be clear: No, I do not deserve to know his salary. He doesn’t need to know mine. Neither of us has a right to view the pay stubs of anyone (other than a relative handful of business and government officers). Still, I wish he would’ve told me.
I asked out of curiosity, like when I once asked the same friend, “What ever happened to that one calorie that Diet Coke once advertised?”
“None of your fucking business!” he screamed back.
No he didn’t. However, when pressed about why he’s so secretive about his earnings, he responded like most people do: “Because you don’t need to know that.” Why? “Because it’s personal.” So? “You don’t need to know such personal details.” Why not? “Because they’re personal.”
Let’s leave the carousel of kindergarten babble behind. This is not about money. This is not about a right to privacy. It’s about why you choose to exercise that right to begin with.
Too many of us are too private. Continue reading
“Who are you to judge me?”
It’s a question that isn’t really a question. No one ever asks it so much as hurls it as a defense to shut down dialogue—which is exactly why I’ll use it to start this conversation, and launch this blog.
The problem with invoking some let-he-who-casts-the-first-stone nonsense to silence someone is that it assumes none of us has the right to judge. The reality, however, is not that we’re too judgmental. It’s that we’re not judgmental enough.
So I’m throwing the first stone. I hope you don’t bruise easily.
For starters, tell a mother she’s raising little Johnny well. “Thank you,” she’ll reply, beaming with pride. Point out that she’s neglecting her son, and she’ll shoot a menacing glare not seen since Satan possessed poor Marlena. “Don’t you dare tell me how to raise my child! DON’T JUDGE ME!”
What she really means is, “Don’t judge me—unless you’re judging me positively.” Girlfriend, you can’t have it both ways.
Sure, there’s the maxim instructing what you’re (not) supposed to do if you’ve got nothing nice to say—and it’s a good rule for most etiquette matters. Want to use the salad fork instead of the dinner fork? Who cares? (Well, some people care. But they shouldn’t, certainly not in the way that we’re talking about here.) It’s one thing to violate a custom—I’ll cut into my Lean Cuisine with your $357 steak knife if I feel like it, thank you—but quite another to act in ways that impact others. Now we’re talking ethics.
When behavior falls under an ethical domain, it’s not just OK but obligatory for you to judge, negatively or otherwise. In fact, all of us already do that, only we keep our thoughts to ourselves. So the issue isn’t so much judging but judging publicly. Continue reading