Bullying that runs unopposed escalates until the bully does real harm to me and others, and eventually, such bullying gets the bully into real trouble, but not before it has caused huge problems for everyone else. вЂќ And in most cases, I am protecting myself and the others on my team by speaking up. But if what a person is saying or doing violates a norm or a rule or a law, I am doing them a kindness when I say вЂњIt is degrading to. Prejudice and bullying can be less comfortable to confront. This is not as difficult when the problem is bias. And if you care about the other people on your team, you donвЂ™t want them exposed to harmful comments and attitudes. If you care about your colleague who said the problematic thing, you donвЂ™t want them to keep saying it. But if someone makes a casually sexist or racially biased remark or uses вЂњgayвЂќ as a pejorative or refers to someone using the wrong pronouns, our instinct is often to let it slide rather than confront it.ДЄnd yet these are the moments that truly call for Radical Candor. Most people would agree that itвЂ™s uncaring not to point those things out. When I explained this idea in Radical Candor, I used examples such as pointing out to people that they had spinach in their teeth or their fly was open. In truth, silence in such situations, far from being nice, is little more than a selfish and ultimately unkind attempt to avoid conflict. When we deliver critical feedback kindly and clearly, we help colleagues improve-and, in some cases, avoid being fired. With Radical Candor, I also wanted to change the way we define вЂњnice.вЂќ ItвЂ™s not actually nice to withhold critical feedback simply to avoid making someone feel bad. If I hear the bias enough, IвЂ™m likely to internalize it, so my failure to confront it becomes a form of self-harm. The bias that is bothering me probably bothers others as well. ItвЂ™s also bad for the other people on my team.

ItвЂ™s bad for the other person, whom IвЂ™m ostensibly trying to protect because the person is вЂњnice.вЂќ If someone says something that is biased and I donвЂ™t point it out, that person is going to keep saying it until one day it gets them in real trouble. That instinct is hardwired into my brain, probably a result of all the times as a child I was told, вЂњIf you donвЂ™t have anything nice to say, donвЂ™t say anything at all.вЂќД«ut IвЂ™ve learned that IвЂ™m not doing anyone a favor by ignoring problematic behavior. One of the reasons I wrote Radical Candor was to confront my deeply ingrained tendency to remain silent when it would be better for everyone if I spoke up. You may have very good reasons not to respond to bias, prejudice or bullying when they are directed at you.Д«ut I have observed over the course of my career that I too often defaulted to silence, and, as Audre Lorde warned me, my silence did not protect me. My purpose in writing this is not to tell you that you вЂњshouldвЂќ speak up.

Here are some common excuses or rationalizations IвЂ™ve used for remaining silent when it would have been better for me to speak up. The pressure to be silent comes in a dizzying array of disguises, internal and external.

Observe silence inside the office