As you have probably heard, most of human history, civility was not the default setting. Societies were rougher, hierarchies more brutal, and interpersonal interactions often governed by blunt displays of power and overt physical aggression rather than kind or cordial exchanges. In medieval societies, for instance, everyday interactions were far less restrained by norms of politeness. Status determined how you were treated, and those with power often exercised it quite openly. Rudeness, intimidation, and direct confrontation were not social faux pas so much as ordinary features of life in rigidly stratified societies.
Fortunately, we have come a long way. Today, success in modern organizations often depends on the ability to at least appear or seem gentle, collaborative, and emotionally intelligent. Few people openly insult their colleagues or shout at meetings. Instead, most professionals understand that being likable, agreeable, and tactful helps them influence others, build alliances, and advance their careers. Even individuals who enjoy enough power to care less about how they impact others – say, senior leaders and executives – know that their reputation will take a hit if they don’t practice the art of seeming humble, empathetic, and kind.
As I noted in my latest book, this civility requires a great deal of performance. Being “professional” often means managing one’s impulses, editing one’s reactions, and presenting a socially acceptable version of oneself. The result is that modern workplaces reward a kind of controlled or strategic authenticity: people must come across as sufficiently real while at the same time acting in sufficiently other-oriented and empathetic ways so that they can be trusted. Needless to say, this is mostly a good thing, especially compared with the alternative: open hostility, egocentrism, or rudeness. In other words, civility is by and large what makes collaboration and living in a well-functioning society possible.
Too much of a good thing?
Despite the wide-raging benefits of kind politeness and civility, like any trait that is rewarded, it can be taken too far.
When politeness becomes excessive, it morphs into something else: political maneuvering, extreme conflict avoidance, and carefully managed insincerity. Instead of speaking candidly, people learn to say what sounds agreeable while thinking something entirely different. They nod in meetings but undermine decisions afterward. They compliment you publicly but criticize you privately. They avoid open disagreement yet quietly obstruct progress. As Kim Scott compellingly illustrated in her book about the benefits of workplace candor, at some point, civility stops being a lubricant for cooperation and starts becoming an inhibitor.
In personality psychology, one of the traits associated with this behavior is called leisurely, a dark-side tendency closely related to passive aggression. People high on this trait appear cooperative on the surface but resist demands indirectly. Rather than confronting conflict directly, they express dissatisfaction through subtle obstruction, delays, sarcasm, or behind-the-scenes criticism.
Passive-aggressive behavior thrives precisely because it is difficult to call out. Unlike openly hostile colleagues, passive-aggressive individuals maintain plausible deniability. They can always claim they were misunderstood or that they were “just trying to help.” They rarely say anything explicitly offensive, yet their actions consistently undermine others. If you think of colleagues or coworkers who never say anything during meetings, they just silently smile and nod and pretend to be interested and aligned, but then, when you think of it, you never really know what they think, who they are, and they rarely deliver anything or produce much at all. Once you start noticing it, you will probably realize how common it is.
