Respect isn't always lost in one dramatic moment. It can also wear away through small habits that are easy to overlook in yourself: a vague reply here, a badly timed request there, a message that reads more like an order than a question. Often nobody says anything. People may simply start relying on that person a little less.
In the late fourth century BCE, Theophrastus, Aristotle's colleague and his successor as head of the Lyceum, wrote a short book about this kind of person. His Characters is a set of thirty sketches of types you could meet in any Athenian street: the bore, the flatterer, the tactless man, the penny-pincher. They aren't villains. They're people whose small habits make others quietly roll their eyes.
The sketches are often funny, though scholars still debate what they were originally written for, and some details are very much of their time. Each one opens with a short definition, which many scholars think was added later by another hand. But the behavior the sketches describe is easy to recognize today. Here are eight habits, seven drawn from Theophrastus and one from Epictetus, along with what to try instead.
1. Never giving a straight answer
The first sketch is the Dissembler, and it opens by defining dissembling as an affectation meant "to make things seem other than they really are." His habits are evasive rather than dramatic: "He never admits anything he is doing, but at most will say that he is considering it." When he hears news, "he will not admit he has heard it," and on any given question he says "he will examine it" or "that he doesn't know" (Characters, "The Dissembler", Charles E. Bennett and William A. Hammond's translation).
The modern version often looks like caution. "Let me think about it." "We'll see." "Possibly." Used occasionally, these are fine. Used for everything, they leave other people unable to plan around you, and they start to wonder whether you're avoiding a commitment or just avoiding them.
A clear answer doesn't have to be a yes. "No, I can't take that on," or "I'll know by Friday and I'll tell you then," gives people something to work with.
2. Picking the worst possible moment
The sketch of the Tactless Man opens by defining tactlessness as "the faculty of hitting a moment that is unpleasant to the persons concerned." The tactless man "selects a man's busy hour to go and confer with him." When a friend "has just finished a long journey he invites him to go for a walk." In a group, he "explains from the beginning a story which the others have just heard and have completely understood" (Characters, "The Tactless Man").
The request itself might be perfectly reasonable. The timing is what costs goodwill. Asking for a favor as someone walks out the door, raising a budget issue at a farewell lunch, or messaging a colleague about work on their first day of leave all tell people you weren't thinking about them.
A short check before asking can help: "Is now a good time, or should I catch you tomorrow?" It takes a few seconds and often gets a better answer.
3. Repeating news you can't trace
Theophrastus's Newsmonger is always full of fresh stories, but "the authorities for his reports are of the sort that you can never get hold of." When someone asks whether he believes what he's saying, he replies that "the story is noised all about the city" and that everybody agrees (Characters, "The Newsmonger").
Theophrastus's character actually invents his stories. The modern version is usually milder: passing on a rumor about layoffs, a forwarded health claim, or a story about a mutual friend that "everyone" is talking about. When those stories turn out to be wrong, people remember who told them.
Before passing something on, it's worth asking where it came from. If you can't say, you can either leave it, or be clear about how little you know: "I've heard this secondhand, so I wouldn't rely on it."
4. Being stingy in small ways
"Meanness is undue sparing of expense," the sketch of the Mean Man begins. Its subject "counts the glasses each guest drinks" at dinner and won't let his wife lend a neighbor salt or a lamp-wick, "observing that these trifles make a large sum in the course of a year" (Characters, "The Mean Man").
Being careful with money is sensible, and many people have good reasons to watch every dollar. The habit Theophrastus mocks is different. It's keeping a ledger that only runs one way: regularly letting a friend cover the coffee, then chasing that same friend for every small amount they owe you.
People rarely mention it. But they notice, and they may start to feel that every interaction with you is being counted. When the amount is small, letting it go usually costs less than the impression it leaves.
5. Checking up on everyone
The sketch of the Suspicious Man opens by describing suspicion as "a kind of belief that everybody is fraudulent." The suspicious man "sends a servant to market and then sends another to watch him and find out the price he pays." Even at night, after his wife tells him the doors are locked, he gets up to check everything himself (Characters, "The Suspicious Man").
At work, the modern version is often called micromanagement. A manager asks for updates on updates, rechecks every task, or copies themselves into every email. At home, it can look like double-checking a partner's chores or a teenager's every plan.
Some checking is reasonable, especially when the stakes are high. But constant checking sends a message that people tend to hear clearly: I don't trust you. A better approach is to agree on what "done" looks like, then check at the end, not every step of the way.
6. Sending orders instead of requests
The sketch of the Pompous Man opens by defining pompousness as "contempt for everybody save one's self." One of his habits will be familiar to anyone who reads a lot of email. "He does not write in a letter: 'You would do me a favor,' but 'I want this done,'" or "'Have this done immediately.'" He also has a habit of reminding people of favors: "If he has done you a favor, he reminds you of it" (Characters, "The Pompous Man").
Short messages are often just efficient. But a steady stream of "Need this by 5" and "Fix this" can read as though the other person's time doesn't count. Over time, people do what's asked and quietly stop going any further.
Adding a few words usually changes the tone without slowing anything down: "Could you send this by 5? I need it for the client call." And if you've done someone a favor, let them be the one to bring it up.
7. Skipping small courtesies
"Surliness is sullen rudeness of speech," the sketch of the Surly Man begins. The surly man, "when you greet him on the street refuses to return your salutation." He "accepts no excuse" when someone accidentally bumps into him, and he's "not a man to tarry many minutes for a friend who has an appointment with him" (Characters, "The Surly Man").
None of these is a major offense. That's why they're easy to miss in yourself. Not saying hello when you walk into the office, ignoring a thank-you message, letting a small accident become a big deal, or leaving five minutes after a friend was due all chip away at goodwill.
The fix is just as small. Return the greeting. Acknowledge the message. Let the spilled coffee go with "No harm done."
8. Trading secrets to seem close
Epictetus noticed a social pattern that still works the same way. When someone shares their private affairs with us, we feel we owe them a secret in return, even before we know whether they can be trusted with it. He was wary of that exchange, because the person who shares freely often "goes forth and tells all men what he has heard." He compared such people to a cask "with a hole in it": nobody sensible pours their wine into a leaky container. What people want, he said, is someone who is "faithful, modest, and steady" (Discourses 4.13, George Long's translation).
Sharing personal things can build real closeness. The habit to watch is using disclosure as currency. Picture a new colleague who tells you about their messy breakup over lunch, then says, "Your turn. What's going on with you?" The pressure to match them arrives before you know whether they're discreet. People who make a habit of that trade, and then repeat what they hear, tend to find that others stop telling them anything that matters.
Being the cask without a hole is mostly a matter of not pressing and not repeating. You don't owe anyone a secret in exchange for theirs. And when you're unsure whether something was shared in confidence, treat it as though it was.
Not every habit is a character flaw
The sketches exaggerate. In real life, many of these habits have understandable roots. Money worries can make someone careful with small amounts. Anxiety or past experience can make someone check things more than they'd like. Different cultures and workplaces have different norms for greetings, directness and how messages are written. And some people find social timing harder to read than others, through no fault of their own.
Respect also isn't entirely within anyone's control. Bias related to gender, race, age, disability and status shapes how people's behavior is judged, so the same habit can cost one person more than another.
The point isn't to become flawless. It's to notice which small habits might be costing you more goodwill than they're worth, and to change the ones you'd like to change.
One place to start
This week, pay attention to your answers. When someone asks whether you can do something, give them one of three clear replies: "Yes," "No," or "I'll know by Friday."
It's a small change, but clear answers are one of the easiest ways to show people you take their time seriously.
