I’m sorry to anyone I’ve said yes to when the answer was no.
Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is refuse. In the interest of averting conflict, and avoiding hurting someone else’s feelings, we magnetize unwanted situations. We craft personas that hold dependable reputations, naturally increasing others’ expectations. This ultimately creates an aggravating reward system: as we betray ourselves by saying ‘yes,’ we are expected to say ‘yes’ more. As external expectation grows, so does self-resentment.
But is it even fully possible to say yes without the desire to? Yes — in fact, it’s all too easy. When we do this, we’re actually saying something closer to ‘not no,’ and maybe even closer to just ‘no.’ If you’re expected to read between the lines when listening to political debates, indulging Charles Bukowski and detecting your sister’s passive aggressive tone, shouldn’t the same expectations be allotted to the word ‘yes’? But then if they are, why should they not be conferred onto ‘no’?
I see these words as qualitatively different. Maybe having doubts about ‘yeses’ is legitimate and even required; however having them about ‘nos’ is not. But if I rely on the intuition that others will agree with me about these differences, mistakes are unavoidable because the textbook definitions are known and accepted.
But what is it that is so terrifying about ‘no’? It’s the idea that your value diminishes for others. As people living in society, our value naturally ceases to belong exclusively to ourselves. Your value is intimately woven with the exterior perception of you. But does that make it real? The same way saying ‘yes’ when we are hoping others will understand ‘no’ is distortion, this procrustean ‘value’ we carry is as well.
On the question of ‘not no,’ I get to introduce my favorite words: I don’t know. Not knowing is seen as weak, as a shortcoming, rather than as honesty and accepting complexity. And this works on an individual level just as it does on a systemic one. Consider my hyper-specific example: In the capital case of Barefoot v. Estelle, psychiatrists were called to testify on the question of the defendant’s “future dangerousness.” The Supreme Court’s opinion stated that testimonies claiming future dangerousness with “one hundred percent” are more persuasive than testimonies that offer statistically-backed evidence of such a thing being undiagnosable. Bluntly, uncertainty is penalized, where assurance (which I believe in many ways is due either to fear or conceit) is rewarded.
By default, hesitation is taken hostage as acquiescence. Putting up a white flag never means you’ll be unscathed; it means you’ll be convenient. Yet convenience at the price of self-erasure is not generous, despite the inclination to hide behind altruism. Apologies made for honesty only contract guilt.
I’m sorry for saying yes when the answer was ‘I don’t know.’
A double-edged sword leaves no reliable outcomes in a face off with a yes man: the asker is left misled, while the yes man is left in shallow waters, building ultimatums he feels his history of ‘yeses’ creates. The more half-hearted yeses we have in our portfolio, the less justifiable we find the exceptional nos.
If precedent is valuable for predictability, why should that mean predictability is something we owe to others more than to ourselves? Being predictable in saying yes is not more worthy than being predictable in trusting yourself to choose what you want. Being capable of consistently accepting your own wants (including the lack of certainty as to what they are) has exponentially more value than any material results you are able to produce for others.
I’m sorry to myself for saying yes when the answer was no.
If we can agree dishonesty is selfish, we can agree begrudging yeses are selfish as well. Then it’s a zero-sum game. If selfishness is the fear in saying no, then saying yes is no remedy to it. Being kind to others means being kind to yourself. Resenting yourself so others won’t is no sustainable solution. Guilt harms you, which will harm others. I’ll value my indecisiveness. I’ll value my reluctance. I’ll value my wants.
I’m sorry for accepting yeses when others meant no.
Anyone who recognizes a part of themselves in what’s been said, and even more so those who don’t, I’d ask you to watch Jim Carrey’s Yes Man (it has a horrendous rating on Rotten Tomatoes, as was pointed out to me by a friend recently, but then again The Wolf of Wall Street has a glowing rating whereas I’ve never regretted three hours of my life more).
So while I make apologies for dishonest yeses, I won’t be making any more for honest nos.
Elise Clifford '29 is an Opinion Columnist and a Philosophy and Russian student in the College of Arts & Sciences. Her fortnightly column, State of Confusion, approaches the liberties and anxieties honed by disagreement, and the responsibility that comes with forming identity. She involves aspects of symbolism and skepticism that accompany the weight of glorification. She can be reached at eclifford@cornellsun.com.
