Deviant Censorship of Expression
Article published in Business Magazin
Many times, when you hear "You are doing great, but…" it means you will be fired soon.
When you ask an employee how long something will take, and they respond, "Boss, it'll be done in 5 minutes," you already know it means at least a few hours… or days…
"Where is the director?" The instant reply: "He's in a meeting." This actually means he has no interest in talking.
"Send us the offer by email to office@..., and I'll forward it to the procurement department," says the secretary. This means it goes straight to the trash.
"This is company policy" is an excellent statement—it covers almost every possible situation.
"You were great in the interview, we appreciate your skills, you impressed us to tears, but with regret, we must inform you that you have been rejected." No one actually regrets anything. In reality, this translates to: you were embarrassing, performed terribly, and with great joy, we inform you that your CV will be blacklisted for the next five years.
"Stop insisting, we'll contact you in the coming days." This is often the response when you're trying to find out how you did in an interview. Tip: No one will contact you. Ever.
"SMS: Sorry, I'm running 5 minutes late (which means at least 20), there's traffic." How useful traffic can be sometimes! When we're late home because of it, we curse it.
Paradoxically, insincerity manages to make everyone happy; in the end, we all breathe a sigh of relief. The secret is to find the best excuse that fits the context.
An example from our industry: a truck driver calls, saying he's 50 km away from the unloading point but has a technical issue (which he doesn’t). We pass this message on to the client. The client also finds it convenient to accept the excuse and forwards it further… and so on down the chain. Everyone understands it's a lie, but we all shift the blame onto something impersonal, difficult to verify, and secure our comfort zone—because, after all, a technical issue can happen to anyone at some point, right?
We often send inflated forecasts, fully aware we won’t meet them, but it's easier to explain later than to face reality beforehand.
We manipulate numbers and reports so that they "appear" as good results. We all know the reality, but we pretend everything is wonderful and harmonious.
We hide behind stereotypes and clichés, deceiving ourselves, forcefully silencing the voice of conscience that tries to bring us back to reality and honesty. We often delude ourselves with appearances, constructing imaginary realities, perhaps out of fear that our self-image (or our company’s image) could be affected.
It’s like when you talk to your girlfriend on the phone and, at the end of every conversation, say, "Love you, bye!"—dry, mechanical, polite, completely devoid of any real affection or emotion.
How many times have we ended a call with a client, smiling, with a calm, friendly, service-oriented voice, only to slam the phone down in frustration the moment we hang up?
How many times have we told our spouse or partner, "I miss you," without actually feeling it, just because the other person wanted to hear it, found it comforting, or it made them happy?
Often, the recipient knows they’re being manipulated but silently accepts it—out of fear of being blamed or simply because it’s more convenient; no one investigates anyway, so why risk damaging their own image?
I believe that the level of pseudo-communication in business today—dressed in hollow, insincere, misleading language with hidden intentions—has become universal.
We mask the truth in coded words, disguise reality in deceptive appearances. We create structured language filled with false representations.
What happens when words no longer match feelings, thoughts, or reality?
Well, language reflects thought structures, has a strong social role, and is directly linked to personality development. When we say one thing but think another, we turn ourselves into deviant personalities. Being an actor all day long, playing various communication roles depending on the context, is like constantly switching seats during a play to get the best view. You get exhausted! And there’s another effect: the natural human connection that binds people together starts to disappear. This way of communicating makes us dislike each other more, become more anxious and tense…
Or could things improve if we were simply ourselves—honest with ourselves and with others?
Should we dare, just once, to say exactly what we think for a day?
"Good morning, Mr. Director, today I have something on my mind and can’t bring myself to smile." Wouldn’t that make us more empathetic? "What happened? Come, let’s talk." Wouldn't that humanize us? Wouldn’t we be kinder to each other if we expressed our frustrations, criticisms, and sadness instead of disguising them in fake politeness?
Or should we keep the "white curtain" neatly ironed, smelling nice, and continue deceiving ourselves that appearances are real communication?
