This Ancient Roman Author Has A Better Way To Say “No”
How to avoid dysōpia: defeat at the hands of the shamelessly insistent
I handed him the keys, and it didn’t seem like an unreasonable request. Even though I just met him, Ken was a friend of a good friend of mine. I didn’t know how to get to the place we were going to anyway, so he could drive me there.
The other guys we were with piled into their car, while Ken and I jumped into mine. He seemed cool, was into old cars, and knew a lot about my 88 Monte Carlo Super Sport — horsepower, engine size, etc. I also mentioned that my mechanic did a little work on it, so it was faster than a base model.
Something flashed in Ken’s eyes. He gave me this odd look and asked, “You mind if I test it out a bit?” An inner feeling told me I should say no, but I didn’t want to seem like a tool, or look like a prude, so I gave him the okay. The aftermath is still a blur.
Ken floored it, flying between cars on a slower part of the highway, and missing bumpers by fractions of an inch. It was like I was in a live version of Grand Theft Auto. Fear gripped me and I couldn’t get out a shout or a command to stop.
Fortunately, we made it to where we were going in one piece, but Ken never drove my car again. Saying no can be extremely difficult, even at your own expense, which I just learned. Psychology and science agree.
Author and public speaker Vanessa Van Edwards points to a study done at the University of Waterloo where an “instigator” attempted to talk subjects into doing something against their morals. About half took the suggestion, doing things which included vandalism.
But this is nothing new, it’s always been hard to say no. In the first century AD, the Roman writer Plutarch penned an essay about this very subject called On Compliancy.
He says there’s even a word in ancient Greek for being unable to say no: Dysōpia. In another work, he appropriately defines this as “defeat at the hands of the shamelessly insistent,” or in my case — letting Ken go Grand Theft Auto with my car.
In his essay, Plutarch gives a masterclass on why saying no is so difficult, and the damage it can cause you. Plus, he teaches ways to get better by saying no. He starts with the entomology of the word dysōpia, which explains much itself.
The Nice Vice Of Dysōpia
Plutarch says the base of the word stretches back to a similar term, which means an excess of shame and adds another part, which refers to your face. So, it works out to: shame, which shows on your face, causing your eyes to dip downwards at another’s gaze.
Therefore, someone can beat you down through embarrassment to accepting a request you’d like to decline. The Roman calls this a vice. But mentions it comes from the same soil which grows a virtuous tree that produces fruit like “respect, courtesy and gentleness.”
So, saying no can seem like a discourtesy. Van Edwards agrees and explains “no” goes against three cores of our species.
We’re social creatures and are designed to cooperate.
Everyone wants to be liked.
It’s innately difficult to be that person who rejects someone else.
Not being able to say no can eat away at your time and freedom, but these are the small drawbacks. Dysōpia cuts deeper.
Plutarch calls it a vice because you allow it to happen and it can be extremely harmful. Giving someone a controlling position over yourself by allowing them to take advantage of your good nature is like letting a virus into your body. The Roman reminds us dysōpia makes people:
“…Incapable of denying or refusing anything, turns them aside from justice in their verdicts, silences them in the council, and compels them to say and do many things that go against their will.”
Plutarch also notes some of the worst people are masters at controlling others this way. He lists examples of how famous Romans and Greeks accepted invites into ambushes and assassinations because they didn’t want to be discourteous by saying no, even though they knew better.
So dysōpia can lead you into dangerous places, which go way beyond my little highway adventure.
Gavin de Becker agrees that the inability to say no can be life-threatening in certain situations. The security expert and his firm have protected public figures for years across the globe and see a reoccurring theme.
In his best-selling book Gift of Fear, he shows how people generally have an innate sense for when danger is present. However, they often talk themselves out of vigilance. Most of this inner talk is set in a desire not to offend others.
He lists examples of real-life assaults, murders, and assassinations, which were set into motion by an inability to say no. In his book de Becker says:
“No is a word that must never be negotiated, because the person who chooses not to hear it is trying to control you.”
So, what’s to be done about this — on the small and serious end? Well, the cagey old Roman has a strategy for taking on dysōpia.
Start Small And Build
“This malady therefore, as cause of many evils, we must endeavor to expel by a course of training, beginning first…with what is trivial and not too hard to face.”
— Plutarch, On Compliancy
When I first started exercising and losing weight as a kid, it started with small steps. Plutarch advises the same course. He says start by declining trivial requests, which you’re not keen to accept.
Turn down drink or food when you’re not hungry or thirsty despite an insistent friend’s prompting.
Don’t praise something you think isn’t worthy of praise just to fit in with the crowd doing the same.
Decline small requests for money from those you think are less than deserving. Plutarch reminds us that this only takes away from sums you can give to those who truly need it.
The Roman points out that if you can’t build up the strength to do this, you’ll never be able to refuse those more powerful requests from larger characters that you should morally turn down.
Plutarch also recommends having “a stock of sayings” available, which helps you to say no in an easier fashion. Van Edwards thinks this is a good idea as well and has a list of one-liners to let people down in a nicer way.
“Thanks for thinking of me, but I’ll have to pass.” Courteously declining outright.
“I wish I could, but it’s not possible for me right now.” Time constraints take away your ability to say yes.
“I’m on a strict diet of “no” this week.” Using humor as a shield.
“I’ll need to check my schedule; can I get back to you?” Delay the stressful decline.
The last can be extremely useful because it gives you space, where you can decline at easier time when your face isn’t brow-beaten into looking downwards at the moment and saying yes. There’s one more useful tool too.
Make a rule, and inform people you live by this.
The psychologist and author Daniel Kahneman has a rule that he never says “yes” on the spot and will reply later by email. Whereas I have a rule that I don’t drink when there’s work the next day. Rules eliminate wavering to dysōpia.
With all this in mind, let’s recap.
Dealing With The Nice Vice
Plutarch advises care when dealing with dysōpia. After all, everyone’s trouble with saying no is based on civility and niceness. It’s not good to destroy these traits in the pursuit of stiffening your spine against shameless requests.
But you can both decline and keep your morality intact while not being rude.
It all starts by realizing declining requests you’re not interested in can gain you time and freedom. You’re not obligated just because someone asks.
Understand that dysōpia can put you in bad positions.
A series of small declines can help you grow stronger resistance.
Having a series of “stock sayings” will help you say no.
Delaying a response can avoid the shamed feeling of the moment pushing you to give an unwilling “yes.”
Laying ground rules creates a wall dysōpia can’t break through.
Add these all together, and the Greco-Roman way of saying no can be a very effective method for dealing with our eternal problem of dysōpia. It’ll also stop Ken from driving your car like it’s stolen.
-Originally posted on Medium 1/23/24
If you’d like to learn more about Plutarch, I’d highly recommend Alex Petkas’s podcast, the Cost of Glory.