In my previous post, I asked the question: how direct should you be? My answer was that you should be as direct as you can be, but I left a lot of wiggle room depending on the situation. In this post, the wiggle room for candor is almost nonexistent.
What’s the difference? Directness and candor are close cousins but are not exactly the same thing. You can be direct without being candid, and candid without being direct. When Richard Nixon said “I am not a crook”, he was being direct but not candid. When you tell someone, “you might consider a different outfit”, you are candid but indirect.
The difference between directness and candor is the difference between how and if you say something. Directness is a quality of communication style: when you decide to say something, you choose how to say it. Candor is a decision about content: should you say something or withhold it?
Even more than directness, candor may require courage, and lack of it may be the principal reason people do not speak up when they should. In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell tells the story of an Avianca flight that crashed in New York in 1990 after it ran out of fuel. There were a series of errors that led to this seemingly easily avoidable mistake, but one incident in the story is chilling. Because the flight had been forced to circle several times due to air traffic control problems, it was obvious even outside the cockpit that something was wrong. When a flight attendant opened the door to check to see how serious the situation was, the flight engineer pointed to the empty fuel gauge and made a throat-cutting gesture with his finger, but neither one said anything to the distracted pilot![1]
Candor is extremely valuable in business today, where information may be diffuse, constant change makes it imperative to be open about problems as soon as possible, and because the internet makes it very hard to hide information anyway. When lack of candor blocks the flow of vital information, inside an organization, it can be as damaging as a blocked artery.
How many meetings have you been to where there seemed to be general agreement on a decision, only to find out that the real discussion went on after the meeting, in hallways and small groups? When candor is absent, things don’t get done, problems don’t come to light, and grievances fester.
Candor is a no-brainer when it’s safe; why wouldn’t you speak up to improve a situation or avert a problem when there’s no cost to you? The problem is that candor often takes courage because it’s risky.
In the Avianca case or the far more common business meeting example, it’s easy to fault the person who did not speak up for their lack of courage, but how often is the problem made worse by the very fact that they need courage to speak the truth? In a HBR interview, Jack Welch says, “Above all else, though, good leaders are open… They’re straight with people.” He then goes on to say, “…we don’t understand why so many people are incapable of facing reality, of being candid with themselves and others.”
When Welch said he didn’t understand why people weren’t more candid, he perhaps wasn’t being totally candid himself, as this quote from a Fortune article tells us: “Welch conducts meetings so aggressively that people tremble. He attacks almost physically with his intellect—criticizing, demeaning, ridiculing, humiliating.”
These two perspectives point out that leaders who want to foster a culture of candor must make it safe—or at least not job-threatening—for employees to speak their minds. They can’t have the attitude that Henry Ford had, when he lamented that every time he hired a hand, a head came with it.
But even when it’s unsafe, (maybe especially when it’s unsafe because no one else will speak up), if you want to be more than just a hired hand, you have a responsibility to contribute to the good of the organization or the larger purpose.
Candor is about responsibility: taking responsibility to speak up when it will improve a situation or avert a problem. In lean communication terms, the first rule of communication is that it must add value. When you are aware of an opportunity to improve the situation but don’t take advantage of it, you are not adding value, and you may even be subtracting value.
So, I do believe candor is non-negotiable in most situations, and I feel qualified to say that because the only time I was ever fired from a job was for my candor. When the bank where I was running the management training program got into financial trouble, they made plans to lay off 90% of the trainees upon the completion of the program. But they cautioned me one morning not to say anything because it would allow them to choose from the best. At an all-hands meeting that afternoon, one of the trainees asked me what the bank’s condition would mean to them, and I advised them to make sure their resumes were up to date. I was unemployed 24 hours later, but my conscience was intact.
If you do work in a culture where candor can be dangerous, it does not absolve you of the responsibility to speak up when it’s necessary, but you should definitely be smart about it. First, make absolutely sure you have your facts lined up to support your position. Second, be smart about how you speak up—that’s where style comes in. Unless the situation is imminently critical (such as when your plane is about to run out of fuel), it’s OK to be less direct to make what you say more palatable to the audience. If they don’t take the hint, you can become more direct.
But let’s not dwell just on the potential costs of candor. It can also be a valuable tool for persuasive effect. For example, the Q&A after a sales presentation is the best chance for the audience to see the genuine, unscripted you, and candor will make them see you as trustworthy, open and approachable. During your presentation, pointing out some of the disadvantages of your proposal can make the advantages look even better. Being candid about what you don’t know can bolster the credibility of what you do know.
What about wiggle room; are there times when you don’t have to be candid? It depends on the responsibility you have. You don’t have a professional responsibility to try to improve every situation—when it’s none of your business, it’s none of your business. Or, if being candid will only hurt the other person without improving the situation, it’s best to keep quiet.
[1] Malcolm Gladwell, Outliers, chapter 7.
