Must I answer emails after my work hours?

If you work a 9 to 5 job, is it wrong not to answer work emails after 5 p.m. and before 9 a.m.?

After email first became available to the general public in the 1990s and businesses began assigning email addresses to employees, there seemed to be a bit of an urgency to responding to emails as they were received. As home users shift from dial-up to broadband connections in the early 2000s, work email relatively easily could be called up at home and it still retained some of its relative urgency. Postal mail, increasingly labeled “snail mail,” gave way to email as a faster way to communicate. As texting picked up in the late 2000s, for many it became the communication means of choice, sometimes relegating email to the “I’ll respond when I get around to it” category.

Partly, the shift seemed generational. Older email users may still view it as a preferred means of communication than texting. Younger users, however, likely preferred texting over emails or phone calls, with voicemail messages falling into the “I may or may not listen to them” camp. For some email users, the shift can be frustrating. If a student, for example, sends an older instructor an email marked “urgent” seeking information, that instructor may respond without receiving any acknowledgment for days or weeks.

When it comes to personal communications, it’s good for users to let it be known how best to reach them if a response is expected.

In a business setting, expectations of responses to emails can be different. Sure, some institutions send out so many announcements via group emails that recipients grow numb to them and often ignore them, particularly if they rarely contain information specific to them. But when a colleague emails you directly seeking information or a manager emails with a request or a directive, the expectation is that attention must be paid.

Because most of us can access our business email 24 hours a day, the question often arises about whether we should be expected to. While it would be nice to adopt a policy of not answering emails after work hours either on principle or to create boundaries conducive to better mental health, that’s not always practical.

Some employees – particularly those working virtually – work with colleagues operating in different time zones. Other employees work in businesses that don’t operate in old-school 9-to-5 parameters.

Is it wrong for employers to expect employees to respond to emails outside their 9-to-5 workday? And is it equally wrong for employees to refuse to do so?

Neither of those questions strike me as getting to how best to deal with the issue of email response policy. The right thing for companies to do is to establish clear expectations when employees are hired. If that policy isn’t made clear, the right thing is for employees to ask about such expectations.

If companies expect employees to respond to emails outside of their typical workday, they should make that clear and they should make sure that their employees are compensated to do so. If employees know that when interviewing for a prospective job, they can make an informed decision about whether that’s the right workplace environment for them.

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 to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Should you tell a friend a recommended book was awful?

How honest should you be with your opinions?

A reader we’re calling Minerva and her neighbor Hermes regularly loan books to one another. Minerva wrote that they have a good sense of the types of books one another like, so when they read something that seems up their neighbor’s alley, they offer the loan. Typically, the loan works out well, Minerva reported. Often each of them is introduced to a new writer or title they had not discovered before.

Last week, Hermes loaned Minerva a book that she was particularly high on. It was a “light read” Minerva said Hermes told her, and it was set in a part of New England each of them knew and Hermes figured Minerva would enjoy the read.

She didn’t.

“It is a terribly written book,” Minerva wrote. “I suspect it was self-published and didn’t have an editor to try to make the writing stronger than it was.”

To be fair, some self-published books are well-written. But Minerva is correct to point out that many are not and are simply vanity projects that their authors pay to turn into a book. Apparently, based on Minerva’s report, the loaned book from Hermes fell into the latter camp.

Fair enough. Not every book or piece of writing is a gem. But Minerva wants to know if she should be honest with Hermes about how awful she found this recent loan to be.

She doesn’t want to be insulting since she knows Hermes really liked the book. “I also don’t want to risk not being offered books to borrow in the future.”

“Should I tell her just how much I hated the book?” Minerva asks. “Or should I just say ‘thank you’ when I return it and hope I’m not asked how I liked it? If I’m asked should I pretend I liked it to avoid hurting feelings?”

If Minerva didn’t like the book, she should not lie to Hermes about liking it. If they typically report back to one another on how they liked the loaned book, then it might be odd to say nothing. But if she chooses not to, Minerva doesn’t need to go into excruciating detail about just how much she loathed the book. She can simply say that she didn’t care for it and let it rest at that.

Sissela Bok, the author of Lying: Moral Choice in Public and Private Life, believes that truth dumping goes beyond the call for honesty and can even, on occasion, careen into cruel behavior.

Thanking Hermes for the loan and letting her know this one was not her cup of tea but that she looks forward to the next recommendation strikes me as the right thing to do. It also sends a message to Hermes that it’s OK to tell Minerva when one of her recommendations misses the mark.

Presumably, Minerva and Hermes’ friendship is strong enough to handle a gently offered truth, especially if it’s in the interest of continuing to exchange a few good titles.

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 to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

What does it take for you to leave a bad online review?

Should you post a negative online review when you have a miserable restaurant experience?

 A reader we’re calling Joanne recently observed her wedding anniversary with her husband, whom we’re calling Neil. They had decided to go away for the weekend to a nice hotel to celebrate the occasion.

From the moment they arrived at the hotel, Joanne wrote that everything was wonderful. The room was well-appointed. The hotel pool and spa were terrific. The front desk staff was helpful with luggage and with advice on things to do in the area. Breakfast was included as part of their package. It too met with Joanne’s approval.

On the final evening of their weekend stay, they had made a reservation in the hotel’s restaurant. While the meals were pricey, Joanne had read the online reviews, which were positive. The food and service were reported to be exceptional. The breakfast staff highly recommended the restaurant for dinner.

From the moment they entered the dining room, the evening turned into a bust. Their reservation wasn’t noted, but a table was found for them. The table was missing some silverware and a plate. When the waiter finally arrived with menus, they each ordered a glass of wine. When their meals arrived, the waiter had to be reminded that one of them still needed silverware. The dish one of them ordered had changed significantly from what was on the menu. When asked, the waiter first tried to explain that Joanne simply misunderstood the menu, but after checking with the chef found out that the chef had changed the dish without telling the waiter. As they were about to finish their meal, the wine they had ordered finally arrived.

Joanne and Neil told the waiter as things went wrong. While apologetic, no effort was made to credit them for any of the mishaps. Rather than argue about adjusting the bill, the couple retired for the evening and decided simply to let the front desk staff know about the experience as they were checking out.

Given that she largely based her decision to try the restaurant on the overwhelmingly positive online reviews, Joanne wonders if it would be wrong not to post something about their experience on the review site, even though she is not one to typically post online reviews.

Like Joanne, I’m not a huge fan of posting online reviews, although I did just post a positive one for a young local barber who took me as a walk-in customer. (If you find yourself in Falmouth, Massachusetts, consider asking for Patrick at Quinupe Barbershop.) But in Joanne and Neil’s case, the service was terrible and the staff certainly could have done more to offset the many errors.

That Joanne and Neil didn’t want to press the issue with the restaurant or the hotel staff was their decision. Her inclination to write an honest and thorough review strikes me as the right thing to do.

Joanne’s review wouldn’t serve solely to let off steam. It might help future customers know that the restaurant does have some off nights. It would also alert the restaurant management that it can and should do better.

If the rest of their hotel stay was as exceptional as Joanne indicated, she also might want to leave a separate review about that. Happy anniversary.

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 to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

A correction can be a simple kindness

Should you correct someone’s pronunciation if you’re unlikely to ever see the person again?

Years ago, I wrote about how a librarian at a college I attended was crushed when she found out no one had corrected her pronunciation when she got it wrong. The librarian had grown up in France and immigrated to the United States late in life. When her mispronunciation was pointed out to her, she wondered out loud why no one had ever bothered to correct her before. She was both disappointed and embarrassed that she had been pronouncing some words incorrectly for years.

One of the reasons no one corrected her was likely that they didn’t feel comfortable embarrassing her without realizing that she might have considered it a thoughtful gesture. When she found out years after no one corrected her, her feelings of hurt lingered toward those with whom she regularly had contact.

But what about when the person mispronouncing is someone you’re likely never to see again?

On a tour of some Portuguese churches recently, the woman I’d eat bees for and I were lucky enough to be assigned to a terrific group tour guide. He was a former translator from Brazil who had a few months earlier relocated to Portugal. While his native language was Portuguese, the tour was conducted in Spanish and English since those were the predominant languages of those in our tour group. He would alternate his descriptions in Spanish and English and did so seamlessly. His grammar and usage were flawless as was most of his pronunciation. But each time he used the word “bishop,” he would pronounce it with the first syllable sounding like “bye” rather than rhyming with “dish.”

It was a day-long bus tour, so for the first hour or so we wondered whether it would be appropriate to say something to him, or if it would seem arrogant, judgmental or annoying. During a short break, however, I found myself standing next to him and we got to talking. I learned that while he had learned to speak English in grade school, he had only picked up Spanish about six months earlier, which struck me as impressive. I decided to tell him then about bishop, but told him that his English otherwise struck me as flawless and that the information overall was helpful without being overwhelming.

He seemed grateful, but then again, he was working for tips at the end of the tour so I’m not sure responding angrily would have been a good business move on his part. Nevertheless, he persisted in thanking me and the rest of the tour went fine, although oddly enough the word “bishop” never came up again.

I chose to tell him not because I found it important to be right about something. I did so because ultimately I decided that if I were in his position, I would want to know so I could avoid making the same mistake on future tours. The same is true in the work I do. I appreciate it when students correct me when I make a mistake and when readers point out when I commit an error in the column.

When we believe we can help someone do something better than they are already doing it, it strikes me as the right thing to try to do so. Uma simples gentileza.

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 to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.