WE MIGHT AS well admit it, we want people to like us.
You may hear someone say, “I don’t care whether people like me or not.” But whenever you hear anyone say that, just put it down as a fact that he is not really telling the truth.
The psychologist, William James, said, “One of the deepest drives of human nature is the desire to be appreciated.” The longing to be liked, to be held in esteem, to be a sought-after person, is fundamental in us.
A poll was taken among some high-school students on the question, “What do you most desire?” By overwhelming majority the students voted that they wanted to be popular. The same urge is in older people as well. Indeed it is doubtful if anybody ever outlives the desire to be well thought of, to be highly regarded, or to have the affection of his associates.
To be master of the art of popularity, be artless. Strive deliberately after popularity and the chances are you will never attain it. But become one of those rare personalities about whom people say, “He certainly has something,” and you can be certain you are on the way to having people like you.
I must warn you, however, that despite your attainments in popularity you will never get everybody to like you. There is a curious quirk in human nature whereby some people just naturally won’t like you. A quatrain inscribed on a wall at Oxford says:
“I do not love thee, Dr. Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this alone I know full well,
I do not love thee, Dr. Fell.”
That verse is very subtle. The author did not like Dr. Fell. He didn’t know why but he just knew he didn’t like him. It was most likely an unreasonable dislike, for undoubtedly Dr. Fell was a very nice person. Perhaps if the author had known him better he would have liked him, but poor Dr. Fell never did become popular with the author of those lines. It may have been due simply to a lack of rapprochement, that baffling mechanism by which we either do or do not “click” with certain people.
Even the Bible recognizes this unhappy fact about human nature, for it says, “If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.” (Romans 12:18) The Bible is a very realistic book and it knows people, their infinite possibilities as well as their imperfections. The Bible advised the disciples that if they went into a village and after trying their best to get along with people still couldn’t do so, they were to shake off the very dust of the village from their feet—“And whosoever will not receive you, when ye go out of that city, shake off the very dust from your feet for a testimony against them.” (Luke 9:5) This is all by way of saying that you will be wise if you do not let it too seriously affect you if you do not achieve perfect popularity with everyone.
However, there are certain formulas and procedures which, if followed faithfully, can make you a person whom other people like. You can enjoy satisfactory personal relationships even if you are a “difficult” person or by nature shy and retiring, even unsocial. You can make of yourself one who enjoys easy, normal, natural, and pleasing relationships with others.
I cannot urge you too strongly to consider the importance of this subject and to give time and attention to its mastery, for you will never be fully happy or successful until you do. Failure in this capacity will adversely affect you psychologically. To be liked is of profounder importance than mere ego satisfaction. As necessary as that is to your success in life, normal and satisfactory personal relations are even more important.
The feeling of not being wanted or needed is one of the most devastating of all human reactions. To the degree to which you are sought after or needed by other people will you become a fully-released person. The “lone wolf,” the isolated personality, the retiring individual, these people suffer a misery which is difficult to describe. In self-defense they retire ever further within themselves. Their ingrowing, introverted nature is denied the normal development which the outgoing, self-giving person experiences. Unless the personality is drawn out of itself and can be of value to someone, it may sicken and die. The feeling of not being wanted or needed produces frustration, aging, illness. If you have a feeling of uselessness, if nobody needs or wants you, you really ought to do something about it. It is not only a pathetic way to live but is serious psychologically. Those who deal with the problems of human nature constantly encounter this problem and its unfortunate results.
For example, at a Rotary Club luncheon in a certain city two physicians were at my table: one an elderly man who had been retired for several years, the other the most popular young doctor in town. The young doctor, looking frazzled, dashed in late and slumped down with a weary sigh. “If only the telephone would stop ringing,” he complained. “I can’t get anywhere because people call me all the time. I wish I could put a silencer on that telephone.”
The old doctor spoke up quietly, “I know how you feel, Jim,” he said. “I used to feel that way myself, but be thankful the telephone does ring. Be glad people want and need you.” Then he added pathetically, “Nobody ever calls me any more. I would like to hear the telephone ring again. Nobody wants me and nobody needs me. I’m a has-been.”
All of us at the table who sometimes feel a bit worn by numerous activities did a lot of thinking as we listened to the old doctor.
A middle-aged woman complained to me that she didn’t feel well. She was dissatisfied and unhappy. “My husband is dead, the children are grown, and there is no place for me any more. People treat me kindly, but they are indifferent. Everyone has his own interest and nobody needs me—nobody wants me. I wonder, could that be a reason I do not feel well?” she asked. Indeed that could very likely be an important reason.
In a business office the founder of the firm just past seventy was walking restlessly and aimlessly around. He talked with me, while his son, present head of the business, whom I had come to see, was on the telephone. The older man said gloomily, “Why don’t you write a book on how to retire? That is what I need to know. I thought it was going to be wonderful to give up the burdens of the job,” he continued, “but now I find that nobody is interested in anything I say. I used to think I was a popular fellow, but now when I come down here and sit around the office everyone says hello, then they forget me. I might as well stay away altogether for all they care. My son is running the business and he is doing a good job of it, but,” he concluded pathetically, “I’d like to think they needed me a little bit.”
These people are suffering one of the most pathetic and unhappy experiences in this life. Their basic desire is to be sought after and this desire is not being satisfied. They want people to appreciate them. The personality longs for esteem. But it isn’t only in retirement that this situation develops.
A girl of twenty-one told me that she had been unwanted ever since birth. Someone had given her the notion she was an unwanted child. This serious idea had sunk into her subconscious, giving her a profound sense of inferiority and self-depreciation. It made her shy and backward, causing her to retreat into herself. She became lonely and unhappy and was, in fact, an underdeveloped personality. The cure for her condition was to revamp her life spiritually, especially her thinking, which process in time made her a well-liked person by setting her personality free of herself.
Countless other people, not particularly victims of deep, unconscious psychological conflicts, have never mastered the knack of being popular. They try hard enough. They even go to extremes, often acting in a manner they do not really enjoy, but which they employ only because of their intense desire to have people like them. Everywhere today we see people putting on an act because of their inordinate desire for popularity in the superficial sense in which the word is often used in modern society.
The fact is that popularity can be attained by a few simple, natural, normal, and easily mastered techniques. Practice them diligently and you can become a well-liked person.
First, become a comfortable person, that is, one with whom people can associate without a sense of strain. Of some persons it is said, “You can never quite get next to him.” There is always a barrier that you can’t get over. A comfortable person is easygoing and natural. He has a pleasant, kindly, genial way about him. Being with him is not unlike wearing an old hat or an old pair of shoes, or an easy old coat. A stiff, reserved, unresponsive individual never meshes into the group. He is always just a bit out of it. You never quite know how to take him or how he will react. You just aren’t easy-like with him.
Some young people were talking about a seventeen-year-old boy whom they liked very much. Of him they said, “He is good company. He is a good sport. He is easy to be with.” It is very important to cultivate the quality of being natural. Usually that sort of individual is large-souled. Little people who are much concerned about how you treat them, who are jealous of their place or position, who meticulously stand on their prerogatives, are stiff and easily offended.
A man who is an outstanding example of these truths is James A. Farley, former Postmaster General of the United States.
I met Mr. Farley for the first time a number of years ago. Months later I met him in a large crowd of people and he called me by name. Being human, I never forgot that, and it is one reason I have always liked Mr. Farley.
An interesting incident illustrates the secret of this man who is an expert in how to get people to like him. I was to speak in Philadelphia at a book-and-author luncheon along with Mr. Farley and two other authors. I did not actually witness the scene I am about to describe, as I was late in arriving, but my publisher did. The speakers at this luncheon were walking along the hotel corridor together when they passed a colored maid standing by a cart loaded with sheets, towels, and other equipment with which she was servicing the rooms. She was paying no attention to this group of people as they turned aside to avoid her cart. Mr. Farley walked up to her, put out his hand, and said, “Hello, there. How are you? I’m Jim Farley. What’s your name? Glad to see you.”
My publisher looked back at her as the group passed down the hall. The girl’s mouth was wide with astonishment and her face broke into a beautiful smile. It was an excellent example of how an unegotistical, comfortable, outgoing person is successful in personal relationships.
A university psychology department conducted an analysis of the personality traits by which people are liked or disliked. One hundred traits were scientifically analyzed and it was reported that one must have forty-six favorable traits in order to be liked. It is rather discouraging to realize that you must have so large a number of characteristics to be popular.
Christianity, however, teaches that one basic trait will go far toward getting people to like you. That trait is a sincere and forthright interest in and love for people. Perhaps if you cultivate this basic trait, other traits will naturally develop.
If you are not the comfortable type of person, I suggest that you make study of your personality with a view toward eliminating conscious and unconscious elements of strain which may exist. Do not assume that the reason other people do not like you is because of something wrong with them. Assume, instead, that the trouble is within yourself and determine to find and eliminate it. This will require scrupulous honesty and it may also involve the assistance of personality experts. The so-called “scratchy” elements in your personality may be qualities which you have taken on through the years. Perhaps they have been assumed defensively, or they may be the result of attitudes developed in your younger days. Regardless of origin they can be eliminated by a scientific study of yourself and by your recognition of the necessity for change followed by a process of personality rehabilitation.
A man came to our clinic at the church seeking help in the problem of personal relationships. About thirty-five years of age, he was the type of person whom you would certainly look at twice if not three times. He was splendidly proportioned and impressive. Superficially regarding him it was surprising that people should not like him. But he proceeded to outline an unhappy and continuous set of circumstances and instances to illustrate his dismal failure in human relations.