So he became his own critic and spent another fifteen years, checking his data,
challenging his reasoning, criticising his conclusions.
Suppose someone denounced you as "a damn fool"-what would you do? Get angry?
Indignant? Here is what Lincoln did: Edward M. Stanton, Lincoln's Secretary of War,
once called Lincoln "a damn fool". Stanton was indignant because Lincoln had been
meddling in his affairs. In order to please a selfish politician, Lincoln had signed an order
transferring certain regiments. Stanton not only refused to carry out Lincoln's orders but
swore that Lincoln was a damn fool for ever signing such orders. What happened?
When Lincoln was told what Stanton had said, Lincoln calmly replied: "If Stanton said I
was a damned fool, then I must be, for he is nearly always right. I'll just step over and
see for myself."
Lincoln did go to see Stanton. Stanton convinced him that the order was wrong, and
Lincoln withdrew it. Lincoln welcomed criticism when he knew it was sincere, founded
on knowledge, and given in a spirit of helpfulness.
You and I ought to welcome that kind of criticism, too, for we can't even hope to be right
more than three times out of four. At least, that was all Theodore Roosevelt said he
could hope for, when he was in the White House. Einstein, the most profound thinker
now living, confesses that his conclusions are wrong ninety-nine per cent of the time!
"The opinions of our enemies," said La Rochefoucauld, "come nearer to the truth about
us than do our own opinions."
I know that statement may be true many times; yet when anyone starts to criticise me, if
I do not watch myself, I instantly and automatically leap to the defensive-even before I
have the slightest idea what my critic is going to say. I am disgusted with myself every
time I do it. We all tend to resent criticism and lap up praise, regardless of whether
either the criticism or the praise be justified. We are not creatures of logic. We are
creatures of emotions. Our logic is like a canoe tossed about on a deep, dark, stormy
sea of emotion. Most of us have a pretty good opinion of ourselves as we are now. But
in forty years from now, we may look back and laugh at the persons we are today.
William Allen White-"the most celebrated small-town newspaper editor in history"-looked
back and described the young man he had been fifty years earlier as "swell-headed ... a
fool with a lot of nerve ... a supercilious young Pharisee ... a complacent reactionary."
Twenty years from now maybe you and I may be using similar adjectives to describe the
persons we are today. We may. ... who knows?
In previous chapters, I have talked about what to do when you are unjustly criticised. But
here is another idea: when your anger is rising because you feel you have been unjustly
condemned, why not stop and say: "Just a minute. ... I am far from perfect. If Einstein
admits he is wrong ninety-nine per cent of the time, maybe I am wrong at least eighty
per cent of the time. Maybe I deserve this criticism. If I do, I ought to be thankful for it,
and try to profit by it."
Charles Luckman, president of the Pepsodent Company, spends a millions dollars a
year putting Bob Hope on the air. He doesn't look at the letters praising the programme,
but he insists on seeing the critical letters. He knows he may learn something from
them.
The Ford Company is so eager to find out what is wrong with its management and
operations that it recently polled the employees and invited them to criticise the
company.