The Hypocrisy of Kindness

I had a boss many years ago that most of my peers consider kind.  He was a proud grandfather.  He spoke in soft tones.  He smiled.  He laughed.  I don’t recall him ever saying a harsh word.  Yet, he also seldom responded to emails.  He did not give clear guidance.  He did not give his team awards.  He did not stand up for them when they were in a jam.  I did not consider him kind due to the latter examples.  I debated his kindness with my co-workers.  None of us ever changed our minds.  That was more than 25 years ago.  That was when I first started wrestling with the concept of kindness.  And the match is still going on.

Prior to that, in my active duty Army days, I used to boast the mantra, “somebody’s got to be the asshole.”  Over the years, I have migrate towards wanting to be more kind.  I say more kind because I am not sure completely kind is an attainable goal.  Almost ten years ago I began taking anxiety medicine and that has helped.  Still, I struggle with both the concept and execution of kindness to this very moment.

I also struggle with the concept of hypocrisy.  During the last four weeks I have seen examples of how these two characteristics overlap, intertwine, and conflate into chaos of misunderstandings, with me and others.  I want to dig into this deeper.  Typically, I am not a fan of the pedantic choice to spell out definitions in my columns, but I think it is necessary here to establish a foundation, because so many of us define these terms differently.

Kindness.  The quality of being friendly, generous, and considerate.  The quality or state of being kind; treating people with kindness and respect.

Hypocrisy.  The practice of claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one’s own behavior does not conform; pretense.  Behavior is different from what they say they believe.

The last few weeks have been a fast moving train.  The Administration’s engine has accelerated to such a frenetic pace that it has become difficult to keep up without getting sloppy.  As I pause to reflect on a Saturday morning, slowly sipping my second cup of coffee from my Papasaurus coffee mug, I realize that a few people have accused me of being a hypocrite just as I have accused a few people of the same.

And as I scan back through these, all of us, them and me, we were actually accusing each other of hypocrisy that on some level referred to or included an element of kindness – the hypocrisy of kindness. 

I admit and take full ownership for the fact that I have either outright stated or implied that people can’t support the release of J6’ers who beat up police while also saying that they support the police.  In my mind, that is not kind to the police.  I see those people as hypocrites.

I have also said or implied that police themselves, farmers, federal government workers, and other groups who continue to support an Administration that is directly harming them are hypocrites as well.  Whether accurate or not, it is name-calling on my part.

Which gets to the label being applied to me.  One person called me a hypocrite because I shared that I prayed for Trump but here I was tearing him down.  I still dispute this particular claim, because two things can be true at once, especially for critical thinkers.  I shared the example of how much I love the Boston Celtics but I continue to criticize their reliance on three-point shooting, their lapses in defense, and not showing energy against weak opponents. 

But that is the only accusation I can defend.  The other times I have been called a hypocrite, either directly or implied, have been clear examples of when I have not been kind in calling out others who have not been kind.

And it all has me doing a lot of soul searching and reflection.

There has been a similar debate in recent years over “tolerance.”  Republicans and Democrats have both accused each other of not being tolerant.  But tolerance is not an absolute.  Nobody is being asked to tolerate rape.  We aren’t expected to tolerate murder.  Where is the line for tolerance?

It is a common adage that respect is not given automatically but is instead earned through actions and behavior.  And yet, when it comes to kindness the common perspective has been that kindness shouldn’t have to be earned; it should be freely given.  But maybe, just maybe, kindness is not something that should be freely given to everyone all the time but rather should be extended based on positive actions or behavior from the recipient.  Just like tolerance. Maybe the line on kindness can and should move to meet the circumstances.

When Trump announced that he would eliminate the penny, I responded with kindness.  I could not see anyone being harmed and there was no evidence of him being mean-spirited about it.  But when he tells the nation that transgenders do not exist, when he arbitrarily releases 100% of the J6ers to include the most violent offenders, when he arbitrarily fires federal government employees, when he violates the constitution and established laws – and all of the other things I have written about – I cannot tolerate those behaviors.  And while I am a fairly seasoned writer, I also can’t find a way to address them kindly.  And I am not sure I even want to.

But look at it from another perspective.  I am being unkind to Trump.  I am being unkind to Trump supporters who continue to take glee in the destruction of our nation.  But I think I am being incredibly kind to all of the people he is hurting.  I am being consistently faithful and kind to our constitution.  I am kind to federal workers.  I am kind to transgenders.  I am kind to educators.  The list goes on.

But none of that is enough to make me a kind person.  Remember those old Western movies where there was a village of either pacifists or others who lacked the ability to defend themselves from the evil bandits.  Then either a gunslinger comes along or they hire one to defend them.  The gunslinger extends a kindness to the villagers, but certainly not the bandits.

I may be unkind.  But maybe we need a few more gunslingers too.  If you believe in such things, maybe those gunslingers never made it to heaven.  Maybe neither Trump nor I will see those pearly gates either. 

I may just be a dinosaur, a Papasaurus. I accept my choices.  I accept the consequences.  I will still try each day to be as kind as I can.  But in the end, I may very well be guilty of the hypocrisy of kindness.