I was doing one of those late-night dictionary dives, the kind you do when you’re avoiding laundry, and I stumbled upon the word ‘frank.’ The definition was all sunshine and rainbows: “sincere, open, truthful.” It even had a little disclaimer at the end— “people might not like it.” And that’s where the whole thing comes undone, isn’t it? That little last part.
Because in our society, which runs on a special blend of pretense and pleasantries, being frank has somehow become a social faux pas. It’s like wearing shorts to a wedding. At work, it’s a career-limiting move. In social circles, you’re just ‘that guy’ who says it like it is. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? This dance we do.
You know what I mean. The endless stream of digital garbage we generate—all those emails and messages padded with fluff. A simple question that used to be “Hey, did he tell you that?” now sounds like a corporate haiku: “Did you get a download on the resource alignment?”
A download? Seriously?
I never learned that in school. Our English teacher would have looked at us like we were speaking Martian. Yet, here we are, at our desks, speaking a bizarre alien language, all in the name of being ‘formal.’ It’s like we’re all paid actors in a show where the plot is a secret and everyone just talks in riddles. And to be frank, it’s a lot of effort. A lot of fluff for very little substance.
I think what we’re calling ‘being frank’ is just taking off the sugarcoating. It’s simply saying the thing that needs to be said. If you feel the need to sugarcoat it, maybe it’s not the communication that’s the problem. Maybe it’s the message itself. Maybe what you’re about to say is the kind of truth someone needs to hear, but you’re afraid to be the one to say it.
Because what happens if you keep telling someone their red Ferrari is a fiery red… when it’s actually green? You’re both living in a lie. And when one day you wipe the car and the red comes off, they’ll be disappointed. Wouldn’t it have been better if they knew it was green from the beginning? They could have chosen to buy it or not. The disappointment is not because it was green, but because they were lied to. That’s the real issue.
This is what’s happening everywhere. People are getting offended when someone calls a spade a spade because they’ve been happily living in a mirage where everyone was calling the spade a fork. And when the truth hits, it’s not because the truth is bad; it’s because the illusion was so strong.
I once read that talking to ChatGPT with too many ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ just makes it work harder and use up more resources. It’s the same with us. All the sugarcoated blabber just hides the actual code that needs to be conveyed. We’re wasting our brain power.
Maybe frankness isn’t about being rude or harsh. Maybe it’s just about being true. To yourself, and to the person you’re talking to. It’s about building a house on solid rock, not on quicksand made of pleasantries.
And maybe, just maybe, the world needs a lot less fluff, and a little more truth. Even if it stings a little at first.
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