The Problem with Politeness
Why politeness isn’t the virtue you think it is — and what to say instead.
I’ve been thinking about politeness lately.
Not just as behavior, but as a kind of social choreography — an inherited script we act out, often without realizing what it's protecting, what it’s suppressing, or what it’s really built on.
Politeness is, by design, subtle.
It softens. It smooths. It makes room for others.
But it also conceals.
And sometimes, it silences.
We call this collection of behaviors “manners.”
We praise them in children. We expect them in adults. We consider them the oil in the gears of civilization.
But few of us ever stop to ask what manners are actually doing — beneath the surface.
What are they for?
And at what point does the performance of being polite start to chip away at the practice of being real?
Where Manners Come From
Manners are a kind of social technology — a system of agreed-upon behaviors meant to reduce friction in communal life. They exist to create predictability in human interaction, which is often unpredictable, awkward, and emotionally charged.
Politeness isn’t about truth. It’s about ease.
When I say “thank you” even though I’m not particularly moved, or “I’m fine” when I’m clearly not, I’m participating in a ritual. I’m saying: I recognize the script, and I’m willing to stick to it so this doesn’t get weird.
That’s not inherently bad.
In fact, it’s often useful. It’s what keeps strangers from spiraling into conflict over small misunderstandings. It’s what allows us to live side-by-side in crowded cities and office buildings and waiting rooms without losing our minds.
But every social technology has side effects. And politeness is no different.
Politeness Is Built on Unspoken Assumptions
To be polite — especially in Western norms — is to behave as if certain things are always true:
That people are inherently fragile or easily offended
That peace is preferable to honesty
That being liked is more important than being real
That conflict is dangerous
That social cohesion depends on performative warmth, even in its absence
These assumptions aren’t always wrong. In fact, they’re often right.
But they quietly shape the emotional tone of our interactions.
They train us to over-index on being agreeable, palatable, and smooth — even when the truth is messy, or the moment calls for discomfort.
When Politeness Becomes Self-Betrayal
Here’s where things get tricky.
What begins as politeness can evolve — without us noticing — into something else: self-erasure.
When we are endlessly agreeable, we become invisible.
When we thank someone who’s crossed a boundary just to avoid awkwardness, we teach ourselves that comfort matters more than safety.
When we say “I’m fine” over and over, we start to forget how to say anything else.
We assume we’re keeping the peace.
But at what cost?
Politeness becomes dangerous when it becomes reflexive — when we no longer ask why we’re smiling, nodding, excusing, deferring, softening.
Because what we call “being polite” can often be a way to say,
“I’ll carry the discomfort, so you don’t have to.”
The False Binary: Rude or Respectful
We often frame the choice as binary:
You’re either polite and respectful or you’re blunt and rude.
But that’s a false choice.
Honesty and kindness are not opposites.
You can tell the truth with grace.
You can say “no” and still be generous.
You can hold your boundary without throwing a punch.
The problem isn’t that we have manners.
It’s that we’re afraid to outgrow them.
We’re afraid to graduate from politeness into presence.
Toward a More Honest Politeness
So what would it look like to retain the structure of manners — but use it in service of authenticity rather than avoidance?
What if “thank you” meant:
“I genuinely recognize the energy you gave me.”
What if “I’m fine” became:
“I’m not okay right now, but I don’t need rescuing — just space.”
What if saying “no” wasn’t seen as aggressive, but as an invitation for clarity?
We can use politeness as a tool — not a mask.
We can let manners serve the moment, without becoming a performance that hides the person.
And maybe that’s the real work:
Learning how to speak with kindness without sacrificing honesty.
Learning how to hold space for others without abandoning ourselves.
Learning how to be gracious without being vague.
Final Thought: Don’t Be Nice. Be Clear.
There’s a line I come back to often:
“Clarity is kind. Ambiguity is cruel.”
(Brené Brown said that, and she’s right.)
Politeness is not the goal. Connection is.
And real connection requires a bit of friction. A bit of vulnerability. A bit of truth spoken plainly.
So the next time you feel the urge to explain, excuse, or smile through something that doesn’t feel quite right — pause.
Ask yourself: Am I being polite… or am I disappearing?
You don’t owe anyone a performance.
You owe yourself a presence.
Matt DiGeronimo is a writer, thinker, and life strategist who simplifies the complex and challenges conventional wisdom. Please message me for public speaking or coaching opportunities.
When someone “accosts” (not really but hopefully you get my drift) me in the street and says “can you spare me… some time / some £ etc.” - I simply say “no”. Used to make my wife say, how can you say that? And I’d say… “no, was the answer”. They asked a question, I said no. I don’t need to explain any more. She’s used to it now. Even works with cold callers on the phone… “ hey, I’m from xyz, how are you doing today”. I find “I’m not”, quite a helpful answer. Much better than, “ok”. Usually results in silence. 🤫