Malice or Stupidity?

Turns out one of my favorite sayings actually has a name – Hanlon’s Razor. It says “never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” An article in The Economist recently recommended using it to squelch the urge for revenge against annoying or deceitful colleagues. Having found that advice to be useful over the years, I’d wholeheartedly concur.
While it’s easy to believe someone is being troublesome on purpose, it’s equally likely they are simply not aware. As the saying goes from my corporate days, “you can’t fix stupid.” Or, as a nonprofit executive and good friend said, more politely, “they’re simply not equipped.” (Thank you, Michael!) It’s not easy to remind myself in the heat of the moment, but in general I’d far rather believe people are inherently good. Most normal folks really just want to help.
You’ve seen it when a stranger holds a door when you have your hands full, or smiles while you share the pain of a long, slow-moving line. I’ve seen it when traveling, as people try to understand my attempts at their language to help me choose food, decipher train schedules, buy clothes, or find a bus. This was reinforced on our recent trip to Basque Country, which straddles Spain and France across the Pyrenees.
My sentences came out in comically broken combinations of French, Spanish and English, but people always helped – stupid as I must have sounded. Whether at a pintxo (tapas) bar in San Sebastian, a tram stop in Bilbao, or a chocolate salon in Bayonne, people couldn’t have been more kind. It restored my faith, while inspiring me to paint again. This work in progress is St. Jean de Luz, a charming seaside town in the French half of Basque Country.
Hi Deb, and thanks for reading! Happy to share about the trip. As for the rest, highly doubt I’d ever manage to turn around anyone’s bad behavior – fortunately not my job. 😉
Thanks for sharing this Beth. First off I can’t wait to hear about your trip – it sounds like just what the doctor ordered! Re Hanlon’s Razor, it’s good to take a beat a realize that people are mostly kind and intelligent, the majority of the rest can be quite dense sometimes, and the minutiae that remain can be complete PITAs and selfishly mean. I guess it’s our job to try and turn them around. (Of course I’m not perfect either.)
What a wonderful story and great memories, Robyn!
Oh Beth–I love St. Jean de Luz and your trip sounds like a dream–language challenge and all. I so wish to get to Bilbao–I’ve been to all the spots you mention in France, some recently and all many years ago. Believe it or not, I still use the embroidered tablecloth and napkins I bought at an outdoor market in Bayonne–probably for the equivalent at the time for $12–60 years ago–I have trouble believing it. I am going to send you a picture–and a Basque stool I bought from a woodworker which has paint all over it–I must figure out how to rescue it as it is a treasure. Hard to believe but back in the day, they let me carry it on the plane. Can’t wait to see your finished painting–such a wonderful experience to paint the places we love.