Politeness, defined as respect and consideration for other people, is a fine thing. You get to be good, feel good, and reap social dividends. Giving up your seat for someone frailer is considerate. It’s respectful to listen to older people, who may have flappy gums and occasionally try to put their shoes in the fridge, but have a lifetime of experience. It’s considerate to be understanding of young people, because one day you’ll be all gummy and bonkers, and they’ll be in a position to tip your wheelchair down the stairs. It’s unnecessary to tell someone that their nose is too big or their baby too annoying, though we’re only human, and sometimes these things just pop out. It’s nice not to fart in the lift if you can possibly hold it in.
Unless, metaphorically speaking, it’s the holding it in that’s making a bad smell. Politeness is part of the social immune system, preventing hostility, calming inflammations and healing breaches. But when antibodies turn on their host, you get autoimmune disease. Politeness can sicken us.
The least habitable place in the universe is outside the group of people you either need to belong to (family, friends, partners, colleagues) or want to belong to (more powerful, more respected, cooler, sexier, richer). There is no spot colder than where they cast you out with mockery, disapproval, contempt, or disregard. We’ll do almost anything not to be there — cede, silence, compromise, forfeit self-respect, swallow guilt, live a lie. Our much-valued politeness, then, also masks a savage addiction to social acceptance. It’s like a straight-A student with a drug habit.
Growing up is discovering that while you might be mummy and daddy’s priceless little pearl, the rest of the universe is deeply un-wowed by your wonderfulness. It’s discovering that love and affection are necessary, rare, and precious, and yet sometimes not worth the price. When social approval clashes with your own truth, there’s a choice to be made. It seems so much easier to swallow a little bitterness than give offence, but if you do that long enough, you will end up brimful of bitter-cribbed, miserable, and very well liked. That’s a sucky destiny.
It isn’t easy to upset the applecart. Many people would rather not. Is it really your business that the boss sexually harasses employees? How can you tell the world that your husband rapes you? Is it done to chastise your friend for treating his domestic help like dirt? Isn’t it unseemly to ask for more money? Why can’t you just write the kind of stuff that people like to read? Is it necessary to tell people exactly what you think of religious icons?
It takes practice to knowingly give offence. It can feel churlish. In this absurdly conformist, majoritarian, implacably hierarchical society, sticking your neck out is widely seen as unnecessary, hurtful, and arrogant, and it is harshly judged. Sticking to your own truths often makes a loud clanging noise that brings hundreds of judgement-filled eyes swivelling towards you. It fetches you a reputation for being rude, selfish, slatternly, attention-hungry, and, well, unpleasant. But parts of you can die if you don’t give them space.
So it’s nice to be nice, but enough with the pathological politeness. If something doesn’t sit well with you, the hell with it. Stop pretending that your same-sex lover is just your roommate. Inform your boss that picking up dry cleaning isn’t part of the job. Tell your guru that actually you hate classical music and want to be an engineer. Tell your in-laws that you don’t do children or cooking, though you might enjoy cooking some children. Tell the annoying suitor that you’re filing a restraining order. Do not say “I love you too” unless you mean it.
This is first and foremost about personal freedom and personal growth, but it’s not only about that. Religious reform, political reform, social reform, gender reform, scientific breakthrough, creativity — all kinds of progress and change happen only when you follow a path instead of people. There’s a chance you could lose friends or family. You might occasionally wonder whether 10,000 lemmings can really be wrong. But if you can grow a thick skin against the cold, and learn to enjoy solitude, you don’t have to live in a too small, wrongly shaped box. In the end, it’s a happier thing to cherish the few people who accept you as you are, than to put on a polite, popular masquerade and die long before your funeral.
So be as impolite as you need to be. The country’s development hinges on it — and you know how keen we are on development. And remember, you can do all of this without resorting to profanity. Unless the bleeping morons deserve it.
Disclaimer: These are personal views of the writer. They do not necessarily reflect the opinion of www.business-standard.com or the Business Standard newspaper
