The Difference Between Speaking Your Truth and Just Being a Jerk

I grew up in the UK where, as boys, we’d verbally assassinate each other on a daily basis. If you had a bad face day, a weird haircut, or your father had just beaten you, someone would call it out in the most brutal way possible — usually before you’d even had breakfast.

At the time, it felt like normal banter. In reality, it was training in character assassination — the fine art of taking a single moment, flaw, or mistake and using it to define the whole person. We learned to hit where it hurt, to win the moment, and to hell with what it did to the relationship.

Fast-forward to adulthood, and I see the same thing everywhere. Men do it. Women do it. In love. In business. In friendships. And here’s the thing:

If you do it, you’re the ass.

No “just being honest,” no “just speaking my truth” — you’re taking a shortcut to hurt someone instead of having the courage to deal with the real issue.

What Speaking Your Truth Actually Is

It’s owning your experience, not rewriting someone else’s identity.

It sounds like:

This is clear. It’s about the situation, not the person’s entire worth. It opens the door for change.

What Character Assassination Is

It’s taking one behaviour and making it the person’s permanent label.

It sounds like:

Now, let’s be real — yes, there are people out there who will never change. Psychopaths. Full-blown narcissists. The kind of personalities that aren’t interested in growth, accountability, or anything that doesn’t serve them. If you’re in that situation — whether it’s a relationship, business partnership, or even a family dynamic… get professional help, create distance, and make sure you are safe. Those cases are the exception, not the rule.

For everyone else? People can change. They can learn, unlearn, and show up differently. But here’s the kicker — the way you speak to them will influence whether they dig in deeper or feel safe enough to try.

Instead of turning behaviour into a life sentence, focus on describing the specific action and its impact. Say:

That’s language that opens a door. If they walk through it, great. If they don’t over time, you can make decisions based on their pattern — but you’re not sabotaging the chance for change right out of the gate.

Why People Do It

1. Upbringing: If you grew up in a house, school, or friend group where this was normal, you’ll do it automatically unless you unlearn it.

2. Ego: It’s faster to “win” with a low blow than to stay in a messy, vulnerable conversation.

3. Avoidance: If you assassinate someone’s character, you don’t have to admit you’re hurt, scared, or insecure.

The Damage It Does

• In relationships: You turn a solvable problem into a trust breach.

• In business: You kill collaboration and create an environment where people stop bringing you bad news — which means small problems become big, expensive ones.

• In your own head: You become someone who confuses cruelty for clarity.

The Apology Rule

If you catch yourself doing it — even mid-sentence — stop.

Say:

You’ll be amazed at how much that one move can de-escalate a situation. It shows self-awareness and respect. It also stops you hardwiring the habit even deeper.

Bottom line:

Character assassination might feel like a quick win — you get to drop the mic, watch the other person’s face fall, and feel like you’ve “proven your point.” But it’s a hollow victory. It’s lazy because it dodges the harder work of staying in the real conversation. It’s damaging because it plants seeds of doubt and resentment that take years to pull out. And it’s cowardly because it uses power to wound instead of to repair.

If you catch yourself doing it, don’t double down. Own it. Stop mid-sentence if you have to. Say:

Then actually say it better. Go back to the specific action, keep it about the present, and move towards a resolution.

That’s what love looks like — telling the truth without cruelty. That’s what integrity looks like… taking responsibility for the weight your words carry. And that’s what leadership looks like… whether you’re in the bedroom, the boardroom, or at the pub with people who still remember your dodgy haircut from 1996.

With love,

Stephen James