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Forgiveness

Why "Gentle Reminders" Are Not So Gentle

Between politeness and power play.

It has probably happened to you to get an email saying, “This is a gentle reminder” and to inwardly wince at the wording. Something seemed off—unpleasantly so—about the adjective "gentle" here. Why?

 Moose Photos/Pexels
Source: Moose Photos/Pexels

The answer is that it is the recipient who should be the judge of whether a reminder is gentle or not. To say that you are sending someone a gentle reminder is a bit like saying that you are extending to that person a kind invitation or that you are offering an adequate apology. It is not up to the one who issues an invitation or who offers an apology to describe that invitation or that apology as “kind” or "adequate," respectively. Likewise, it is not for the person who sends a reminder to attribute to said reminder the virtue of gentleness. The one who preemptively ascribes a good quality to his or her own action vis-à-vis another deprives the other of the right to be the judge.

Often, people who describe their own reminders as “gentle” are motivated by nothing but good intentions and are simply a bit clueless about how attributions of virtue are supposed to work. Perhaps, they want the recipient to feel treated gently, and they think they can accomplish that goal by affixing the label “gentle” onto their own treatment of the other. (If only politeness and virtue were so easily achieved! If I could simply say I am being kind, or courteous, or polite toward you, and thereby make it so.) It doesn’t help that we have all encountered the expression in question numerous times, which may make it seem acceptable. Unfortunately, all manner of behaviors misaligned with virtue and good manners can become widespread, so one must always exercise judgment.

More importantly, however, there could be something not so benevolent in describing one’s own reminder as “gentle”: Power play. When the issuer of a reminder has power over the recipient, both virtue and politeness norms are often disregarded. Indeed, the more powerful person may think he or she is in a position to determine what counts as “gentle.” It is not up to you, the recipient, to judge, as it would normally be. (In extreme cases, the implication is that if you don’t agree with the statement that some reminder is gentle, you should wait and see what a non-gentle reminder looks like.)

Indeed, I suspect that a power asymmetry of a certain sort (more power on the sender’s side) is involved in many—perhaps most—of the cases in which the expression under discussion here is used. It is difficult to imagine an underling sending a message to a superior that says, “A gentle reminder you promised to consider me for a promotion.” Even among equals, the expression is probably rare. For instance, if you want to make sure others don't forget about a group picnic, you are unlikely to email the group saying, “A gentle reminder there is a picnic this weekend.” More likely, you would simply send a reminder.

This brings us to an issue that deserves a much longer discussion than I can offer here, but virtue and politeness norms are in a tangled relationship with hierarchy, in general. Consider apologies. As mentioned in the beginning, under ordinary circumstances, the recipient of an apology is the judge of the adequacy of said apology. Not so when recipient and issuer are in a hierarchical relationship, however. If, for instance, you are meeting your supervisor, and you are late, you may be expected to offer a very elaborate apology. If, by contrast, your supervisor is late for the appointment with you, he or she may offer a very cursory apology—or none at all—even if you have been left waiting for a long time. More importantly, your supervisor would be allowed to be the judge of the adequacy of both apologies, not only yours but his or her own. It will not matter whether you, the recipient, think the apology a good one or not. It is as though your supervisor says, “My time is much more valuable than your time. While you ought not be late for an appointment with me, I can be late for an appointment with you.”

Is there any justification for changing the rules of ethics and propriety in this way? Of course, there is something to be said for the idea that not everyone’s time is equally valuable from society’s or a company’s point of view. A cancer researcher’s time may be more valuable to society than a gardener’s time, and a CEO’s time may, similarly, be worth more to a company than that of the events coordinator. But it does not follow from here that the person whose time is more valuable has a license to be late for an appointment and authority to determine unilaterally whether his or her own apology for being late is sufficient. Why not?

The answer is that however busy someone may be, it is very rarely the case that he or she truly could not show up to a scheduled appointment on time. After all, both parties to an appointment must agree on when and where to meet in advance. If you said you could meet someone at 10 a.m. on Tuesday, presumably, you expected to be available then. If something else came up, you should notify the other person or try to reschedule. The chance that something very important came up at the very last moment such that you could show up at 10:15 a.m. but not at 10 a.m. as agreed earlier is very small, indeed. Since that is so, asymmetries in the value of different people's time cannot explain why new rules should apply to apologies in the case of asymmetries in time value, so that the person whose time is worth more would be the judge of the adequacy of an apology, and not the recipient, whoever that happens to be.

I wish to mention also that there are ways to accommodate asymmetries in the availability of time that are compatible with both virtue and politeness. For instance, knowing that you are busy, you could tell the other person in advance that you have only 15 minutes to spare, or 10, or 5 even if the other would like an hour with you. That would be perfectly fine. You don’t have to free up more time than you have, and this can be understood on both sides. But being late for an appointment you agreed to in advance and then offering a cursory apology at best, without regard for whether the apology is seen as satisfactory by the recipient, is a different matter entirely.

There is a final complication I wish to note before closing this discussion. Sometimes, a person has promised to do something by a certain date and the date has passed. If the one to whom something—say a project—is owed sends a reminder and describes that reminder as “gentle,’’ it may seem that the recipient has forfeited his or her right to protest. Perhaps, the one to whom something is owed can now rightfully claim the authority to determine what counts as a gentle reminder and what does not.

I would argue that even in those cases, it is preferable to avoid assuming such authority. You can insist that people do what they promised without describing your own insistence as “gentle.” Instead, you can simply say that they agreed to do something by a certain date, and that the date has passed, so you are wondering what happened. Then you would have the moral high ground. A promisor has broken a promise to you, the promisee, and you have every right to know why and to demand that the promise be fulfilled, if belatedly. But nothing is gained—and some of the moral authority may be lost—if you affix a label such as “gentle” to your own insistence. While a promisee is fully entitled to send a reminder to a promisor and ask for an explanation in the event a promise isn’t kept, it remains the case that whether a reminder is gentle or not is not for the sender to judge.

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