Who Loves Ya, Baby?

Several years ago I took a Seven Habits of Highly Effective People class through work. I was only twenty-three at the time, so did not really recognize it as a specimen of that loathsome beast that's become so prevalent in the workplace now: that bastard spawn from the unholy liaison between corporate motivational productivity-boosting tripe, and feel-good self-help pop psychological garbage. However, I'm proud to state that nonetheless I got a laugh from my classmates by making an off-the-cuff remark that Stephen Covey was just like Kojak with sensitivity training. I stand by that assessment to this day.

One of the creepier concepts covered was that of the Emotional Bank Account, which is something that determines how other people feel about you. You maintain relationships by maintaining a positive balance in the Emotional Bank Account of everybody you have a relationship with. So if you make a withdrawal, say by forgetting a birthday, or not showing for a lunch date, you have to restore the balance as far as possible with an apology. (Sincerity is helpful but not necessary, as long as you're convincing enough.)

You keep the account in the black with regular deposits: compliments, confidences, acts of friendship, being generally dependable. And that way, if you need a withdrawal in the form of a favor, you have the balance available to cover it.

I think that chapter was called either "Friendship 101 for Inept Sociopaths" or "Manipulating Others for Fun and Profit."

Anyway, I'll grudgingly admit that the metaphor has some validity. If you hold up someone's Emotional Bank at gunpoint, take all the tellers hostage, massacre the security guards, and finally set the place on fire on your way out, you'll never be able to pay off all the fees. No matter how many deposits you try to make in the future.

They might even call in Kojak to investigate the crime.