Developing the fine art of saying what you mean

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly . . .”  “Please, go ahead; I don’t mind waiting.”  “Thanks, but no thanks.”  How would you describe these statements? As sincere expressions of modesty, humility, or stoicism?  Possibly so. Experience proves that we often lose more than we gain by pursuing the gifts, pleasures, and indulgences that come our way. A gracious demurral honors the offer while allowing us to practice moderation and self-restraint, both of which make for a more disciplined life filled with more enduring rewards.  Unless, of course, the gentle protestation is followed by, “Well, if you insist.”  False humility might be the ugliest kind of arrogance, compounding egocentricity with a caricature of magnanimity. In contrast, authentic graciousness can be achieved with a simple thank you or other expression of gratitude, accepting the offer with a smile, a nod, a warm handshake, or a touch on the shoulder.  A pro forma refusal followed by an immediate reversal fools no one. And yet, it’s common enough that we have a word for it, which is the current entry into the Ethical Lexicon:  Accismus (ac·​cis·​mus/ uhk-siz-muhs) noun  An ironic rhetorical device, in which one feigns indifference or makes a pretense of refusing something one desires  It’s a phenomenon that seems to have infiltrated our culture. Social dynamics coaches and even etiquette mavens likely include accismus in their toolbox, advising us to turn every interaction and opportunity into a mind game:  Don’t seem too eager for the job.  Don’t answer the phone; let them call back.  Wait a day before responding to that email.  Tell them you need to think it over.  Make them ask for a second date.  But what if we dropped the pretense? What’s wrong with simply saying what we mean and meaning what we say? Instead of trying relentlessly to gain the upper hand or squeeze another ounce of blood from the stone, we might content ourselves with the goodwill we earn by being up-front, honest, and sincere:  “I think I’d be a wonderful fit for the position.”  “Thanks for calling back so quickly.”  “I saw your email and wanted to respond right away.”  “Sounds perfect to me.”  “I’d really like to see you again.”  As we ponder why there seems to be so little trust left in our culture, we might ask ourselves if we share the blame by perpetuating the problem. When each of us is play-acting casual indifference and waiting for the other person to make the next move, aren’t we all spending way too much time waiting and wondering? And if we are, isn’t the most effective way of making a strong, positive impression to break the cycle of calculated nonchalance and show genuine enthusiasm?  Ah, but you might ask: Am I not taking too big a risk by being first to buck the trend? What if my openness will be interpreted as overeagerness, or my frankness as desperation? Then, not only will my sincerity fail to be appreciated, but it will actually work against me.  That is a real concern. And it seems to leave us with the loathsome choice between joining the race to the bottom or getting left behind.  If you’re worried that being straightforward will come across as brash or impolitic, you can hedge just a little without seeming coy or playing hard to get:  “I’d love to continue the conversation to see if we’re really a good fit for each other.”  “I had a free moment, so the timing was perfect for me to return your call.”  “I wanted to reply right away so your email doesn’t get lost in my inbox.”  “Your proposal sounds good, and I’d hate to waste time dithering if it’s worth pursuing.”  “I hope you had as good a time as I did.”  George Burns famously said:  The secret to success is sincerity. Once you can fake that you’ve got it made. Sadly, in a world that gives lip service to authenticity while embracing superficiality, his words sound more like prophecy than irony. But they do remind us that in a world of fakery and pretense, being genuine may be the best way to stand out from the crowd.  Direct communication that doesn’t come across as blunt, as well as diplomacy that doesn’t feel like equivocation, are skills that take thought and practice. Our brains are lazy. It’s why we naturally default to one extreme or the other. We’re afraid of being either too bold or too reticent.  However, as insincerity becomes the norm and accismus becomes our anticipated default, navigating a course between feigned disinterest and embarrassing zeal might be just the way to earn a reputation for honesty, integrity, and trustworthiness.  And that is the best branding anyone can ever hope for.