A few years ago, I asked Jean d’Ormesson what was the most important thing he thought that he had learned as he got older. He answered me without hesitation, with his mischievous smile: “I think that the most important thing I learned with age, is knowing how to say no.”
Listening to him, I first thought it was words reserved for the rich, of a spoiled child, surrounded by so many fairies at his birth, highly solicited, each request more appealing than the last. Hence, throughout his whole life, he had trouble refusing. And no doubt, by answering me, he thought of the innumerable publishers to whom he had refused a book, to the newspaper editors to whom he had refused an article, to the universities to which he had refused a conference, to the admirers to whom he had refused a dinner or lunch invitation.
It is indeed true that he was privileged. No one was more blessed by the gods than he was, since his childhood, and conscious of it by his social status and his talent; thanking the heavens every day for being born Jean d’Ormesson and not a peasant in the depths of Bangladesh, who can hardly say no, because too few people say “yes” to him.
In fact, in today’s world, each of us had been at times in a position where we were not able to refuse an order or a job. Perhaps because a law required it. Or because we were not in a pecuniary position to refuse. And because saying no is often akin to closing future doors, or refusing a gift, without necessarily having the hope of receiving something else in the future. It is also akin to making enemies, and taking the risk of losing a client, a partner, and even a job.
Jean d’Ormesson’s answer is, however, worth taking into account by all of us.
Because, “learning how to say no” is first of all having the courage to choose what you want, not to be carried away by the desires of others. Whatever the issue: a meal, an encounter, a sentimental relationship, a job, a purchase, an order. From this point of view, saying no is always an act of everyday heroism; the first manifestation of freedom. That of the child, just like the adult.
Knowing how to say no is also building the ethic that allows you to choose. It is a step forward toward self-knowledge.
Knowing how to say no is also to not procrastinate. It is a refusal to say “maybe”, “later”, “we’ll see”, “why not”, “we’ll talk about it.” It is to not lie, and especially to not lie to yourself. It is learning how not to be afraid, and not to be afraid of hurting others. It is also to not leave a doubt about your intentions, or about what you are ready to accept, and also refuse. Further, it is to not let a “maybe” to open interpretation, which can lead to all misunderstandings, abuses, and abominations that ambiguity sustains.
Knowing how to say no is also knowing how to say yes. It is the starting point of becoming yourself.
Moreover, in “knowing how to say no” there is “knowledge”. Therefore it is having the dexterity to refuse without provoking anger or humiliating anyone who thinks he makes you happy by proposing something you do not want. It is finding a way of saying no and gaining the adherence, complicity, and understanding of the one who is turned down.
In that case, saying no can even become an opportunity to create a true relationship with the other, with mutual respect.
And, if the example of Jean d’Ormesson is to be followed, it is then the best way to make the gift of a “yes” far more precious.
