Nice-olation

Oh, what a nice guy!!!

~ Lili von Shtupp in Blazing Saddles

Is nice a compliment? A dismissal? A distraction? A lack of a better adjective?

When Craig shared the story in the video below, I fell in love with the concept, pulling back the curtain on the perils of nice. Being told I’m nice is a thin observation for me to hear and even thinner to give. It’s got no teeth, no muscle, all fog, and no risk. When I hear, or think the word, I suspect an element of blurriness that indicates a lack of trust and courage.

So saying, “Nice throw” in a pickup football game? Fine. That’s a verbal smile, back-pat stuff. It’s a stroke, though, not feedback. Giving a stroke instead of specific feedback is a sign of inattention, a pro forma that serves as syrup rather than protein.

Consider this (to quote Michael Skipe): When we provide someone with detailed feedback focused on a detail, e.g. “I noticed how your comment really changed the course of the conversation” or “I’m guessing you didn’t realize how your voice sounded really sarcastic,” we demonstrate trust, courage and paying attention. Nice does none of these. “Nice” keeps the relationship curtain closed.

Can you think of a time when you offended a loved one, friend, or colleague and were confused because you thought you were being nice? You probably were nice—even very nice—but nice wasn’t what was needed at the time.

It’s tough. Kind can be a not-so-good-tasting pill.  It can feel abrupt, even confrontational.

Nice on the other hand feels good and considerate, initially… but often misses the point. It’s pleasurable in small doses—but too much of it and you discover there’s no substance. In fact, it can cause decay and hollow things out.

Nice protects our self—gentle to all, and not a bad thing—but it shifts focus away from candor and vulnerability. It discourages dialogue about what’s underlying and unexplored.

Is this the right script? How would democracy, human rights, or space travel exist if all we did was run around being Nice? Feeling good encourages us to stop, kind encourages us to work it out.

We need to be kind even though it’s hard work. We need to be kind to ourselves, and others.

Kindness requires acts of honesty, authenticity, and directness.

Kind can feel critical, crappy, and “correcting” at times, but this is where nuance comes in. Skilled kindness is the key: kind delivered with enough ‘nice sauce’ to keep the conversation going.

Skilled kindness develops belonging, not just get-alonging. It fosters real human engagement.

• How do you define nice and kind?
• When were you nice and things didn’t work out?
• When were you kind—and though it felt crappy initially, things worked out better in the long run?

What Nice covers, Kind explores.

Thank you @Paul Haury for the language of “belonging not just get-alonging” and @Diane Wyzga for the idea that being nice is largely about self and kind is about others.