Politeness is society’s duct tape: flimsy, awkward, but somehow holding everything together. Without it, dinner parties would collapse into chaos, office meetings would end in tears, and holiday visits would trigger actual wars over cranberry sauce.
The problem is politeness often goes beyond kindness and slides straight into performance. You’re not saying “It’s fine” because it’s fine—you’re saying it because you’d rather swallow lava than admit you’re upset. You’re not replying “Great, thanks!” when asked how you’re doing because life is actually great—you’re doing it because “Well, I’m quietly unraveling and wondering if I made every wrong decision in my twenties” isn’t considered small talk.
The politeness trap works because it’s contagious. One person holds back honesty, and suddenly everyone else is locked in the same charade. We’re all politely pretending we’re fine, while quietly Googling “what does heart palpitations mean” at 2 a.m.
But here’s the kicker: politeness is both a trap and a gift. Sometimes sugarcoating saves relationships. Sometimes sparing someone from your unfiltered honesty really is the right call. Imagine if every single person said exactly what they thought—family dinners would end faster, but at what cost?
The trick is balance. Be polite enough to function, but not so polite you vanish. Politeness should be a tool, not a muzzle. Use it to keep things smooth, but don’t let it stop you from saying what you actually need.
After all, “thank you” is polite. “Help me” is also polite. One just feels scarier to say out loud.