By Selamawit Kidane
More than a decade ago, I had my first conversation with a new supervisor. As we set out our expectations, I hoped for clear guidance and a positive work environment. She, in turn, outlined a few fundamental principles—one of which she emphasized above all: she would not tolerate gossip.
She was direct. “As in many organizations, especially large ones, there will be a temptation to gossip—about colleagues, about leadership, even about the organization itself.”
She then shared her approach. When faced with gossip, she did one of two things: she either changed the subject immediately or made it clear that she was not interested in discussing others. “You can adopt one of these techniques,” she advised, “or develop your own. But whatever you do, never engage in gossip—about anyone or about the organization.”
That conversation stayed with me. Over the years, I have struggled—sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding—but the lesson remains imprinted in my mind.
Gossip is often dismissed as trivial chatter. But in reality, it is one of the most damaging habits in any workplace. It erodes trust, sows discord, and undermines professional relationships. A toxic work culture, once established, can cripple an organization from within.
Chris Genasi, in Winning Reputations, argues that internal communication plays a crucial role in preventing gossip. He describes what he calls “reputation architecture,” emphasizing that employees are the final link in a company’s brand experience. No matter how much a company invests in its products or services, if an employee projects negativity—whether through gossip or poor attitude—the company’s reputation suffers.
Beyond the workplace, the act of gossiping carries a deeper ethical cost. Slander, I believe, is even more destructive than many other offenses because it stems from pride—the most insidious of human flaws. Pride breeds judgment, and judgment fosters division. The moment we indulge in gossip, we place ourselves in a position of moral superiority, condemning others without reflection on our own shortcomings.
Of course, judgment has its rightful place. Judges, for example, are tasked with upholding the law, free from personal bias or external influence. The Ethiopian constitution enshrines this principle, requiring judges to act with integrity, independent of political or religious leanings. Similarly, the legal profession holds advocates to a standard of honesty, requiring them to defend their clients within the bounds of the law. The press, too, plays a role in shaping public discourse, scrutinizing power, and holding institutions accountable. But in everyday life, outside these formal structures, judgment often takes a darker form—one rooted in personal grievances rather than principle.
For anyone striving for personal growth, resisting the urge to gossip is an invaluable practice. The more we focus on our own flaws and work to improve them, the less time and inclination we have to dissect the lives of others. In doing so, we not only elevate ourselves but also contribute to a culture of trust and respect.
We live in an interdependent world, where cooperation is essential. Trust is the foundation of any successful relationship—whether professional or personal. And few things destroy trust more swiftly than gossip. Yet, abstaining from it costs nothing.
Avoiding gossip may seem like a simple virtue, but its impact is profound. It fosters lasting peace, strengthens relationships, and ultimately builds stronger communities. As for me, I remain in a constant struggle to resist the urge to judge others. Instead, I try to remember my own failures—the ones that remind me that I have no right to condemn anyone but myself.
