Someone fairly well-known said something remarkably complimentary about me sometime last month. It was one of the best things that could ever be said about me as a teacher or author or storyteller or consultant or parent or husband or human being.
I’m not telling what was said or who said it.
This is because I understand how small, weak, and sad it looks when a person spends even a single second broadcasting compliments about themselves to other people.
Or even worse, lying about compliments never said to them at all.
Donald Trump’s endless line of perpetually unidentified, teary-eyed generals comes to mind.
I mention this because I’ve read three memoirs in the past year that are filled with page after page of famous, successful people writing endlessly about the compliments they’ve received from even more famous, more successful people.
Was their editor afraid to tell them how contemptible and unlikeable these awful sentences made them sound?
I’ve also received a handful of emails from strangers in the past month or two complimenting themselves in an attempt to convince me to work with them. It’s so odd. When you tell me that you’re “the most talented writer I’ll ever meet” or “adored by audiences” or a “true visionary,” do you really expect me to be impressed?
Or even believe you?
Conversely, I’m nearly finished reading Bob Odenkirk’s memoir “Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama.” This book is filled with humility. Odenkirk relentlessly credits the efforts of others for his success. He describes his failures in great detail and never assigns blame to anyone but himself. He exposes his flaws, foibles, and missteps on every page.
I liked Bob Odenkirk before I began reading. Now I adore him.
Those other authors? The ones who spend page after page recounting the kind words once said about them?
I liked each of them before I began reading. Now I like them a lot less.
In one instance, I don’t really like them at all anymore.
The same holds true in all walks of life.
When you tell me that you’re a thought leader, the very last thing I think you are is a thought leader.
When you tell me that you’re a game-changer, I don’t believe you, and I don’t think your colleagues believe you, either.
When you tell me that you’re a trailblazing thinker, a pioneering creator, a norm-shattering innovator, or a next-level influencer, you don’t sound like any of those things to me.
Instead, you sound underconfident, uncertain, and desperate.
Humility signals strength.
Crediting others signals confidence.
I’m not religious, but the Bible offers some excellent advice on this topic:
Proverbs 27:2 Let another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth; A stranger, and not thine own lips.
Or author C.S. Lewis:
“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.”
Or perhaps best of all, the words of Matshona Dhliwayo:
“Let your work speak for itself:
If poor, it will remain silent.
If average, it will whisper.
If good, it will talk.
If great, it will shout.
If genius, it will sing.”
