Leadership Communication: Stop Mincing Words
As I write this, police officers continue to shoot unarmed Black men and bludgeon BLM protesters in the streets of America. Caught on video and posted without edits, this violent footage is raw and unfiltered.
In companies across the US, another force is working overtime: The Comfort Cops. They don’t use batons and teargas to mollify employees, but instead apply euphemisms to placate workers who question oppressive systems. Listen closely and you can hear them touting trainings on “unconscious bias” and “microaggressions”—anything to avoid openly addressing “racism.” It’s such an ugly word.
Post “Black Lives Matter” on the corporate page, they say. Keep the language soft—don’t offend the shareholders. I’ve noticed very few companies lead with, “End White Supremacy” in their messaging. Too liberal? Too scary? It’s too in-your-face, isn’t it?
Personally, I’d like to see the data on companies willing to name “Anti-Blackness” as the problem to address; I won’t hold my breath. Performative allyship is at an all time high, resulting in what’s become known as Black Lives Marketing. Thank goodness for Sherrel Dorsey and the Plug —she’s tracking tech promises.
Michelle Kim, one of my favorite equity advocates, recently wrote,
“I am so fed up with the white washing, diluting, and trying to make social justice work palatable to people in power through ‘diversity and inclusion.’ I'm sick of the harm it creates and the actual problems not getting addressed. Let's use specific language to talk about what's really going on. Have faith in your leaders and your team that they can handle hard truths, no matter how uncomfortable. They can handle it, they want to hear it, and they need to hear it. We all need to practice cutting through the noise and getting to the heart of the matter.”
We like to believe we’re able to stomach the truth, imagining we don’t need punches pulled or language filtered. What about you? Can you handle hard truths straight up? Are you willing to cut through the noise? Or do we need euphemisms to protect us?
eu·phe·mism
/ˈyo͞ofəˌmizəm/ Noun
a mild or indirect word or expression substituted for one considered to be too harsh or blunt when referring to something unpleasant or embarrassing: ‘downsizing’ as a euphemism for cuts
Similar: polite term, mild alternative, indirect term, understatement, underplaying
Euphemisms are fuckery
Euphemisms damage trust. They gloss over or flat-out omit details. Euphemisms breed passive-aggressive communication; they are the epitome of indirect communication. These polite terms make it rude to call a spade a spade. Euphemisms, and the speakers who use them, determine who can and cannot ingest the full story. They’re patriarchal at best and white supremacy at worst, prioritizing the safety of the speaker over transparency and honesty. It’s an entire language that favors comfort over truth-telling.
If you look up the opposite of euphemism, it should say, ‘unvarnished truth’ or ‘veracity’ or ‘courage in speech.’ How about, ‘Refusal to talk nicely so people in power remain comfortable,’ or simply, ‘candor.’ Personally, I think the antonym of using euphemisms is ‘One who has no more f*cks to give’ or something like, ‘Done with your bullshit. Ready to say it like it is.’ Who has time for anything else?
Direct communication is one of the greatest undervalued skills on the planet
Euphemisms around race, equity, and white supremacy culture are only one iteration of this nice talk. As a hospice social worker and executive coach, I’m well versed in Saying a Thing Without Saying the Thing. So much wink-wink and nodding, so little acknowledging and naming. Let’s talk about death, for example.
Death is a taboo topic in much of Western culture. We don’t like to think about it. We don’t want to talk about it. We’re not very good at recognizing it even when it shows up on our doorstep. Along with sex, suicide, and child abuse, we’re all just better off if we pretend it doesn’t exist. (Nice people don’t talk about those things.) What do we prefer? Conflict avoidance. Putting our head in the sand. Creating cute terms that make the topics more digestible.
Working with terminally ill patients is a crash course in euphemisms. Turns out, most of us absolutely suck at addressing death and the dying process. As a social worker, my role was to facilitate conversations around Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) orders. It was my responsibility to assess funeral plans, financial and healthcare power of attorney, and options for caregiving as patient needs increased. These, my friend, are not conversations the average person wants to have.
The stalling, avoiding, dismissing, shushing and whispering around these discussions borders on ridiculous. Grandma isn’t “not doing very well.” She’s dying. Dad isn’t “sleeping a lot.” He’s in the final stages of death. Anyone who works in hospice, at some point, has patiently explained to a family, “It’s not advisable to tell your 5-year old Mommy is ‘just sleeping.’ This may cause fear of sleep and enormous anxiety for decades to come.”
I was also expected to ask about substance abuse, access to guns in the home, and remain hypervigilant around who may or may not be dipping into the patient’s narcotics. Let me tell you something—one cannot beat around the bush and gain answers to these questions. Pussy-footing gets you nowhere and direct communication is one of the greatest undervalued skills on the planet.
Taking on the elephant in the room—directly
It was this immersion training on naming the elephant in the room that best prepared me for a career transition into executive coaching. Here I am, the warm and fuzzy hospice social worker, plunked down into 12-hour quarterly business review at one of the largest semiconductor businesses in the industry. I don’t know squat about plasma physics or market share but calling out power dynamics in the room is second-nature. I was fluent in Medicalese but clueless about corporate speak, so cutting through business jargon and naming the fuckery in the room was just me being me. Turns out that’s been my super power.
Euphemisms in professional development sound like this:
“Anil doesn’t have the command presence needed in his VP role.”
“Sheryl needs to be more approachable.”
“Can you help Brad be a better listener?”
“Please work with Yuri on her executive presence.”
“Dustin is a bull in a China shop.”
Seriously. What does all this mean? Says who?
WTF is “command presence?” Are men called “unapproachable?” Dustin advanced to his role in the company by being a “dog with a bone” and “not taking no as an answer”—why do you want him to change now?
Sure, I can help develop Brad’s self-awareness to be an active listener and infuse his tirades with questions, prompts, and checking for understanding. However, it’d be way more useful to me if you said, from the get-go, “Brad is a brilliant jerk that is untouchable.”
Absolutely, I’d love to help Yuri build self-confidence in her new role and learn the norms of Western culture executive meetings. Can we also address norms around white, male, charismatic communication styles?
And I’ll never forget the VP who was too direct to entertain euphemisms. When asked how Anil could be more effective in his VP role, he flatly told me, “He needs to be more of an asshole.” So there’s that.
Reduce euphemisms and communicate directly
Thanks for making it to the end of my rant. I want to leave you with some questions to reflect upon to transform your own indirect communication patterns. Euphemisms are cowardice and now is the time for courage.
Pay attention to when and where your words are mild and where they’re unfiltered. Start asking who gets to determine what’s labeled harsh or aggressive.
Can you think of any euphemisms you overuse? What are you afraid to address head on?
What do people talk around in your industry?
When do you stammer or avoid talking directly? Why?
How do you respond to words like Anti-Blackness? White supremacy? Police brutality?
Where are you playing it safe with your words? How come?
How can you use your words to be brave? To advocate? To lead others?
Being direct isn’t the same as being mean or hurtful. Honesty can feel uncomfortable—both to receive and to give. But being willing to be vulnerable—to become uncomfortable with the discomfort—is part and parcel of effective, direct communication and leads to greater understanding and connection.
Feature photo by #WOCinTech.