The problem with being 'nice'

And why the word itself is a fraud!

I once had an online interview with a publisher who was interested in buying some of my work. The interview went really well, until the end, when the publisher told me that the purpose of our chat was essentially to check that I was a nice person, without too much of an ego, so they’d feel comfortable working with me. To begin with, I understood what they were getting at. I’ve met a few super egos in this industry, I’ve seen and heard of some fairly outlandish behaviour, and of course everyone wants an easy working life with agreeable people and not to be caught up in someone else’s drama. So was this approach really such a big deal? However, when I passed the test, and got an offer, I was left feeling uncomfortable. The insinuation was: You’re not one of those authors, are you – the ones who cause a fuss, who expect too much. And it also felt like I was being given a subtle talking-to: If you come with us, you won’t cause trouble, will you? And while I’m never out just to cause a ruckus, sometimes I need to speak up, to back myself and my work, and I can’t always do that by being compliant and saying yes to everything. When I said I didn’t like aspects of the deal, I got feedback that they were disappointed that I was ‘all about the money’, and the whole situation began to feel very uncomfortable. Needless to say, this collaboration didn’t go ahead.

It was one of the many times I’ve been left feeling uneasy after some kind of comment or expectation around being ‘nice’. It’s a tricky business, because in the British culture I was brought up in, ‘nice’ was a label to strive for. To be considered a nice girl was to be considered a good girl – and for a long time – way too long – I wanted to be both these things, no matter what it cost me. And it meant treading a very cautious line, because there always seemed to be such an easy distinction, particularly in the assessment of female behaviour, between whether we were being agreeable (nice) or outspoken and assertive (selfish and bitchy).

Over the years I’ve realised that ‘nice’ is a charade of a word, containing little that’s genuine. Even the word itself has a complicated etymology: in Middle English, nice meant ‘stupid’ (the irony!), and it’s derived from the Latin word nescuis, meaning ‘ignorant’. So, like the best of public servants, ‘nice’ has spent the last few centuries continually reinventing itself so successfully that it’s now done a full backflip in meaning. Today, the Cambridge dictionary defines ‘nice’ as ‘pleasant, enjoyable, satisfactory’ – which reminds me of the decorous language of a nineteenth century drama, where everyone feigns friendship while ruthlessly pursuing their real ambitions in whispered conversation. ‘Nice’ is a fraud!

Nowadays, I wonder if the assertion of niceness is really an expectation of compliance. And when we buy into this, does it mean we become self-sacrificing and people pleasing? – because these are things that might feel easier in the short term, but they don’t lead anywhere good in the end. I have certainly realised the folly of niceness in my own relationships over the years, because being nice usually prolongs an uncomfortable situation, and it never resolves it. It’s taken me a long time to begin reworking my own desire to be nice into something more authentic and vulnerable (and I’m still working on it), because it means having honest, difficult conversations. And while that might lead to new understandings, it can also result in the painful end of significant relationships that don’t work any more. 

There are even darker problems with niceness too. My teen and a few of her friends recently had to deal with some unwanted male attention, and a number of different approaches were suggested, amongst them, ‘let him down, but be nice’. I found myself telling my daughter in no uncertain terms that it is much more important to be firm and unequivocal than to be nice. And I shudder to think where ‘nice’ might take her in this particular context, if she were to prioritise someone else’s feelings and desires above her own. (I made sure my teen read this paragraph and was happy for me to include it.)

Nowadays I would rather strive for other things than simply being known as a ‘nice’ person: I’m working on being more authentic, compassionate, kind, and fun, to name a few. Amidst the pressures and fractures of the modern world, the consequences of always trying to be ‘nice’ may actually be doing us more harm than good. So perhaps it’s time to leave the overrated concept of niceness behind and try other things instead, in order to build deeper and more lasting connections.