Elbert Hubbard said： “Every man is a damn fool for at least fiveminutes every day. Wisdom consists in not exceeding that limit.”
The small man flies into a rage over the slightest criticism， butthe wise man is eager to learn from those who have censured himand reproved him and “disputed the passage with him”。
Instead of waiting for our enemies to criticise us or our work， let’sbeat them to it. Let’s be our own most severe critic. Let’s find andremedy all our weaknesses before our enemies get a chance to say aword. That is what Charles Darwin did. When Darwin completed themanuscript of his immortal book， The Origin of Species， he realisedthat the publication of his revolutionary concept of creation wouldrock the intellectual and religious worlds. So he became his owncritic and spent another fifteen years， checking his data， challenginghis reasoning， criticising his conclusions.
Suppose someone denounced you as “a damn fool”—whatwould you do? Get angry? Indignant? Here is what Lincoln did：Edward M. Stanton， Lincoln’s Secretary of War， once calledLincoln “a damn fool”。 Stanton was indignant because Lincolnhad been meddling in his affairs. In order to please a selfishpolitician， Lincoln had signed an order transferring certainregiments. Stanton not only refused to carry out Lincoln’s ordersbut swore that Lincoln was a damn fool for ever signing suchorders. What happened? When Lincoln was told what Stantonhad said， Lincoln calmly replied：“If Stanton said I was a damnedfool， then I must be， for he is nearly always right. I’ll just stepover and see for myself.”
How To Keep From Worrying About Criticism Lincoln did go to see Stanton. Stanton convinced him that theorder was wrong， and Lincoln withdrew it. Lincoln welcomedcriticism 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， forwe 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 profoundthinker now living， confesses that his conclusions are wrongninety-nine per cent of the time！
“The opinions of our enemies，” said La Rochefoucauld， “comenearer to the truth about us than do our own opinions.”
I know that statement may be true many times; yet whenanyone starts to criticise me， if I do not watch myself， I instantlyand automatically leap to the defensive—even before I have theslightest idea what my critic is going to say. I am disgusted withmyself every time I do it. We all tend to resent criticism and lapup praise， regardless of whether either the criticism or the praisebe justified. We are not creatures of logic. We are creatures ofemotions. Our logic is like a canoe tossed about on a deep， dark，stormy sea of emotion.
In previous chapters， I have talked about what to do when youare unjustly criticised. But here is another idea： when your angeris rising because you feel you have been unjustly condemned， whynot stop and say： “Just a minute… I am far from perfect. If Einsteinadmits he is wrong ninety-nine percent of the time， maybe I amwrong at least eighty per cent of the time. Maybe I deserve thiscriticism. If I do， I ought to be thankful for it， and try to profit by it.”
Charles Luckman， president of the Pepsodent company， spendsa millions dollars a year putting Bob Hope on the air. He doesn’tlook at the letters praising the programme， but he insists on seeingthe critical letters. He knows he may learn something from them.
The Ford company is so eager to find out what is wrongwith its management and operations that it recently polled theemployees and invited them to criticise the company.
I know a former soap salesman who used even to ask forcriticism. When he first started out selling soap for Colgate， orderscame slowly. He worried about losing his job. Since he knew therewas nothing wrong with the soap or the price， he figured that thetrouble must be himself. When he failed to make a sale， he wouldoften walk around the block trying to figure out what was wrong.
Had he been too vague? Did he lack enthusiasm? Sometimes hewould go back to the merchant and say： “I haven’t come back hereto try to sell you any soap. I have come back to get your adviceand your criticism. Won’t you please tell me what I did that waswrong when I tried to sell you soap a few minutes ago? You are farmore experienced and successful than I am. Please give me yourcriticism. Be frank. Don’t pull your punches.”
This attitude won him a lot of friends and priceless advice.
What do you suppose happened to him? Today， he is presidentof the Colgate-Palmolive-Peet Soap company—the world’s largestmakers of soap. His name is E. H. Little.
It takes a big man to do what H. P. Howell， Ben Franklin， andE. H. Little did. And now， while nobody is looking， why not peepinto the mirror and ask yourself whether you belong in that kindof company！
To keep from worrying about criticism， here is Rule 3：Let’s keep a record of the fool things we have done and criticiseourselves. Since we can’t hope to be perfect， let’s do what E.H.
Little did： let’s ask for unbiased， helpful， constructive criticism.