Nice Is a Four Letter Word

I’m not sure when or why “nice” became a near-insult and the condition of being nice became something to avoid or to apologize for.  Etymology might explain the current attitude; the word is derived from the Anglo-Norman nice, nis, nise, Old French nice, and classical Latin nescius, all of which carried the meaning “foolish, silly, or ignorant”. But those meanings are now obsolete, and even if the semantic changes are unclear, since at least the late 18^th century, “nice” has carried the meaning, when describing a person, of “pleasant in manner, agreeable, good-natured; attractive.” I see nothing in that definition to merit contempt. And I doubt that most of those who sneer at the word know about its etymology.

Many of us can recall parental cautions to “play nice” with siblings or other groups of children. Perhaps you have issued this instruction to your own children. Children, of course, can be unrepentant savages uninterested in considering the feelings of others and not yet aware of the rewards kindness holds for giver, receiver, and the surrounding world. But we are no longer children. We know that those who see being nice as weak and hypocritical create pain and humiliation for others, leaving a legacy of anger and resentment that sooner or later will rebound.

Recently a few trusted friends and I were discussing this issue, and one said, “I’m sick and tired of seeing ‘being nice’ derided as some kind of cowardly impulse. Being nice is HARD.”  Indeed, it is. Ignoring the feelings of others is easy. Saying what we feel with no consideration of how our words affect others is easy. Giving into an impulse that lets us feel superior is easy. It’s instant gratification—but at a cost. It's always easier to be snide and snarky and congratulate yourself on your own cleverness than it is to care about how others feel and to avoid dumping more negativity into the world. 

 

Conventional wisdom is wrong; being nice is not weak. As another friend added in that discussion, “Being nice . . . takes a #&*# load of strength.” That’s a sentiment with which some champions of niceness would concur. Linda Kaplan Thaler and Robin Koval built the Kaplan Thaler Group, one of the nation’s most successful advertising agencies (The Aflac duck is their creation) following a philosophy of niceness. In the corporate world where cut-throat strategies are commonplace, Thaler and Koval had the strength to go against common practice and reject intimidation, back stabbing, and egotism to practice kindness, consideration, and empathy. They emphasize that niceness is not a choice made from weakness. In their New York Times bestselling book The Power of Nice: How to Conquer the Business World with Kindness (2006), they describe “nice” as the “toughest four letter word you’ll ever know.” It’s a tough word they credit with helping them build a billion dollar business, a tough word that is central to their professional identities. My friend Santa understands that connection holds true for writers as well. She’s observed firsthand the kindness some of the best in our genre practice routinely—and the lack of thoughtfulness practiced by others. Choosing niceness, San says, “really boils down to being a professional.”

U.S. Representative Lois Capps of California is aother professional who understands the power of nice. In fact, Washingtonian Magazine four times has officially proclaimed her the Nicest Member of Congress, an award based on annual surveys of Capitol Hill staff. Capps’s opponents labeled her a “nice lady” too and failed to take her seriously. They discovered their mistake when the “nice lady” beat them at the polls and went on to become a member of the Energy and Commerce Committee, one of the House’s three most powerful committees. She has proved her toughness in fighting for health care, education, coastal protection, and offshore oil, and one local newspaper likens the power of the slender Capps within her district to that of an 800-pound gorilla. There’s nothing weak about this “nice lady.”

Thaler and Koval suggest essential steps in practicing niceness. The steps seem applicable not just to the world of business but also to our professional and personal worlds and to the larger world we all inhabit. Two of the steps particularly resonated with me because the failure to implement these steps goes to the heart of the incidents that provoked the discussion my friends and I had. Try to feel what the other person is experiencing, Thaler and Koval advise, and you will see beyond the limitations of your own point of view. Then, silence your ego sometimes and let go. Another friend in that discussion labeled people who won’t allow themselves to be empathetic “mental toddlers” whose determination to be first, to be right, to be smart feeds their “monster egos” but makes them as unhappy as they make others. She asked us to promise each other that we would never choose feeding our egos over feeling for people. We promised.

I assure you that none of us are all sweetness and light. We get angry, we deal with people we don’t like, and we have our share of self-centeredness. But we believe, as Samuel Johnson said, “Kindness is in our power, even when fondness is not.” We believe “playing nice” is a tough choice, but it’s one we are committed to making. In the words of Thaler and Koval:

The power of nice is not about running around maniacally smiling and doing everyone's bidding, all the while calculating what you'll get in return. It's not about being phony or manipulative. It's about valuing niceness--in yourself and in others--the same way you respect intelligence, beauty, or talent. Niceness is a powerful force.

May the force be with you.

Where so you stand on the issue of niceness? Do you see it as a tough choice or a wimp out?