Sunday, November 04, 2018

Does an error erase a positive action?


When a long-serving executive at his company decided to retire, a reader, "Toby," was surprised he was invited to a retirement dinner being held in the executive's honor.

Toby knew the guy, but then everyone at the company knew the guy. But he had very little direct contact with the executive except when Toby served as the employee representative on a handful of negotiation meetings between management and employees over contracts or working conditions. And on those occasions Toby was always on the opposite side of the negotiation as the now retiring executive.

They were respectful of one another, but hardly friends. Still, Toby was touched that he'd been invited to the dinner and he decided to attend.

The dinner was held at a swank hotel in the city, so Toby dressed up for the occasion, drove in, paid to park his car, and made his way to the event. When he got to the correct floor at the hotel, there was a table with name cards, each of which had a table number written on the back.

Because traffic had been a bit heavier than he'd anticipated, Toby didn't arrive as early as he'd like. Most of the hundred or so attendees were already there and seated. When Toby walked over to table 6 to grab his seat, he noticed that each of the seats were full.

He walked back out to the registration table and asked someone with a clipboard if someone might be seated at his table by mistake. "No," he was told, and then they suggested he try to find an empty seat at another table.

"Everyone else had a seat set aside for them and I kind of was left to fend for myself. Should I have made more of a stink?" he asks, also wondering if he should have taken it as a sign that his presence wasn't all that wanted and that perhaps he should just go home.

What happened was more likely a planning or table seating error than a slight, but it's reasonable that Toby would feel awkward -- like a man who lost a game of musical chairs. But raising a fuss is hardly likely to create more space at the originally assigned table. Besides, there was nothing particularly special about table 6.

Instead, the right thing is for Toby to remember that the dinner is not about him, but instead meant to serve as a send-off to the retiring executive. He could either ask the clipboard person for help finding an empty seat, or he can find one himself and hope that he has a decent meal, meets some interesting people, and enjoys the evening as much as possible.

If Toby could remember that he was among the few at the company the retiring executive asked to be invited to his dinner, he might remember how pleased he was that the person thought enough of his experiences working with Toby to want him to be part of a special evening. Perceived slights too often cloud memories of positive actions. 

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net. 

Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 

(c) 2018 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.


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