Some sentences we say once and forget. The person we said them to keeps hearing them for years. At work, this can happen during an entirely ordinary meeting, between a review of deadlines and a discussion of the next assignment. One person makes a mistake, another corrects him, several people look down at the table. The minutes do not record anything remarkable.
Perhaps the manager says even a beginner should know that. Perhaps he asks who taught the man to do his job in the first place. If he is witty, he may find a joke someone will repeat over coffee. A smile around the table helps the moment pass more easily for the person speaking. For the person being spoken about, it will make returning to the same table the next morning harder.
The mistake may be serious. Someone missed a check, sent incorrect information, or caused a cost others will have to put right. There is no need to minimise that failure to see what else happened. Alongside the discussion of the work, a judgement of someone's ability was delivered in front of his colleagues. He tried to explain, was interrupted, and remained seated while the conversation continued. He had to decide whether to defend himself and risk another uncomfortable moment, or say nothing and leave the impression that he agreed with everything he had heard.
This is where a position changes the weight of words. Sometimes we can answer a colleague's harsh remark, become angry, or end the conversation. When it comes from the person who decides about our work, the possibilities are narrower. We think about the contract, the salary, the next appraisal. We choose a response we can live with tomorrow. The person in charge often hears that restraint as acceptance of his authority. He does not see how much self-control it took for the meeting to continue peacefully.
Later, he may address the man quite kindly. Ask whether he needs help or offer him coffee. He believes this shows there is no personal hostility. Perhaps he expects relief too, some sign that things are good between them again. But the person who sat opposite him does not need proof that the manager knows how to be pleasant. He needs to know it will not happen again the next time the manager is dissatisfied.
Public humiliation rarely ends with the person it is directed at. Everyone else present gains an idea of what might await them. Next time, someone hides a mistake while trying to fix it alone. Someone decides not to ask a question that would reveal something they do not know. Someone resolves to say as little as possible in future meetings. Later, the manager may organise a discussion about open communication and ask why it is always the same two people who speak.
Repairing the relationship therefore requires more than a pleasant tone the next day. An important apology can be offered privately, but the colleagues who heard the humiliation otherwise have no reason to change their conclusion. Returning to them and saying that the way you spoke was wrong means briefly giving up the comfort your position provides. You must let others see your failure, just as they saw the employee's.
That does not erase the mistake at work or release the employee from responsibility for it. It is possible to insist clearly that something be corrected while acknowledging that we hurt the person who must correct it. It is harder when the apology carries an expectation of immediate forgiveness. The employee may only nod. He may continue choosing his words carefully and avoiding eye contact for a while. There must be room for that too, without renewed dissatisfaction because the relationship has not recovered as quickly as we imagined.
At the next meeting, a man might hear his manager address him in front of everyone. Once again, he would prepare to endure something. Then he would hear: ‘The way I spoke to you last time was not right.’ He would need a few moments to think about his response. This time, the person at the head of the table could wait.
Comments