A minister told of a story about a father, his son, and their carabao. On their way home late one afternoon, they passed by a certain crowd of youngsters who readily noticed the father walking while the son was on the beast’s back.
“What an unkind young man,” they exclaimed. “Shouldn’t the old man be on the beast’s back? Why is the son riding while his dad’s panting?”
Overhearing their conversation, the son jumped off, and, coming to his senses said, “Father, I think they’re right: you should ride on the carabao, and I should walk.”
After quickly exchanging places, they went on their way and passed by an elderly crowd. The people muttered, “Isn’t that horrible? The father left his son walking?” Noticing the sweaty adolescent, the father suggested, “Why don’t you hop up here, Son, so we both ride.” So did the young man.
As they headed on, they passed by another crowd, who, sympathizing with the carabao, remarked, “What a poor carabao! He’s overworked by two big meats!” Guilt-stricken, the father and his son decided to get off and walk altogether.
They passed by the next crowd, who cried out, “Aren’t these two guys morons? They have a carabao to ride on but they chose to walk!” Irked, the two carried their carabao.
Why are some people so engrossed in pleasing others? We may fault the two men for being inclined at pleasing others at the expense of their own comfort, but we do behave like them sometimes.
There is a sharp difference between being pleasant and being a pleaser. The former is anchored on an intrinsic motive, reinforced by genuine traits of a person. It comes out as a natural offshoot of a congenial personality. The later is anchored on an ulterior motive. It is a good façade for a more self-serving end: to deliberately impress a congenial image, even to the detriment of sincerity.
An attempt to please others stifles personal and organizational growth by keeping back negative feedbacks and corrections.
I have heard about a principal who, in her fear to disappoint disgruntled parents, would always say to parent-complainants, “This is the teacher’s fault.” Upon listening to the concerned teachers’ side of story, however, she would readily remark, “Oh, that parent.”
A Japanese proverb puts this interestingly: “An excess of courtesy is discourtesy.”
While in the height of unionism issues, a certain employee tried to please the management by literally verbalizing his loyalty, and furnishing information against the union advocates. But inasmuch as he could not give up his friendship with some union members, he did the same with the other side: he furnished them information against the management. Soon enough, both parties learned about his infidelity. He left the company losing esteem from both groups he tried to please.
Napoleon once said, “The people to fear are not those who disagree with you, but those who disagree with you and are cowardly to let you know it.
By and large, we should gear our efforts towards the better end. And achieving this goal entails disappointing others when necessary. As I would say, we can rather displease all people anytime, but we can never please all of them every time.
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