Being Blunt Isn’t a Good Thing

My ex-girlfriend’s mother used to pride herself on her brutal honesty. “I’ll tell you like it is” she used to say. “You know me, Desmond, I’m blunt and I’ll always be honest with you” she’d state, glaring with the self-assuredness only a rugby mum — if you’ll excuse the pun — can sport. It’s been a long time since I last spoke to her. I used to be afraid of her; frightened of facing the ferocious whirlwind of yelling and accusations of “BULLSHIT!” with whom you could in no way negotiate with.

If I could tell her one more thing, if I could drive over to her house, knock on the door right now — if I could look her in the eye one more time and tell her, out of all the things I’d have loved to tell her many moons ago, I’d politely state: “I’m sorry to turn up in this manner, but ex’s mother –” and then, aware of the fact I was risking the possibility of smashing this once impenetrable pillar of total honesty to a pile of rubble, I’d inform her with genuine concern for her mental stability: “blunt people are dickheads.”

When, throughout our species’ illustrious history, did humanity finally decide that being blunt was an admirable characteristic? The disgraceful habit of bluntness is so far removed, so different to constructive honesty that the two are incomparable. I pride myself on being honest; the ability to tell the truth in a fashion that is at the same time functional and well mannered is a virtue. Such a trait is vital in the process of diplomacy; can you imagine if Obama turned to Putin, looked him in the eye and said with the ruthless abandon only a child can pull off: “I’m gonna be blunt Vlad; I think you’re a nob.”

It’d be chaos. The nuclear clock would strike twelve and we’d see the creation of ‘The End of the World As We Know It’ as an international holiday. Bluntness is a destructive communicational skill; a proverbial grenade tossed into the heart of the person the self-righteous attacker will immediately follow with the phrase “I’m only telling you this because I love you.” It’s a vindictive admission that you lack the linguistic aptitude to let someone down with a gentle touch.

Of course, I understand that unfortunately being blunt is sometimes the only option. After repeated attempts to politely tell a person that they’re parking in a disabled spot without a badge and that they’re doing genuinely disabled people a disservice, maybe it’s time to alter your tactics. If your friend at university is blatantly stealing your food or milk — because we all know milk thieves are the Hitlers of university — and you’ve already asked them to stop and just buy their own, perhaps this is the moment to pursue an alternative method of getting the message across. Maybe this is where the need to be blunt lies; between the art of peaceful expression and lacing your dairy products with laxatives. But it should always stand as a middle-to-last resort.

But not only does bluntness have a purpose in scenarios like the ones above (which were indeed, the most politically correct ones I could think of). One must also be blunt, as I have been here, in order to get across to blunt people. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, and despite the fact I’m now struggling to see, I know — deep in my heart — that such an act was necessary.