What does it take for you to leave a bad online review?

Should you post a negative online review when you have a miserable restaurant experience?

 A reader we’re calling Joanne recently observed her wedding anniversary with her husband, whom we’re calling Neil. They had decided to go away for the weekend to a nice hotel to celebrate the occasion.

From the moment they arrived at the hotel, Joanne wrote that everything was wonderful. The room was well-appointed. The hotel pool and spa were terrific. The front desk staff was helpful with luggage and with advice on things to do in the area. Breakfast was included as part of their package. It too met with Joanne’s approval.

On the final evening of their weekend stay, they had made a reservation in the hotel’s restaurant. While the meals were pricey, Joanne had read the online reviews, which were positive. The food and service were reported to be exceptional. The breakfast staff highly recommended the restaurant for dinner.

From the moment they entered the dining room, the evening turned into a bust. Their reservation wasn’t noted, but a table was found for them. The table was missing some silverware and a plate. When the waiter finally arrived with menus, they each ordered a glass of wine. When their meals arrived, the waiter had to be reminded that one of them still needed silverware. The dish one of them ordered had changed significantly from what was on the menu. When asked, the waiter first tried to explain that Joanne simply misunderstood the menu, but after checking with the chef found out that the chef had changed the dish without telling the waiter. As they were about to finish their meal, the wine they had ordered finally arrived.

Joanne and Neil told the waiter as things went wrong. While apologetic, no effort was made to credit them for any of the mishaps. Rather than argue about adjusting the bill, the couple retired for the evening and decided simply to let the front desk staff know about the experience as they were checking out.

Given that she largely based her decision to try the restaurant on the overwhelmingly positive online reviews, Joanne wonders if it would be wrong not to post something about their experience on the review site, even though she is not one to typically post online reviews.

Like Joanne, I’m not a huge fan of posting online reviews, although I did just post a positive one for a young local barber who took me as a walk-in customer. (If you find yourself in Falmouth, Massachusetts, consider asking for Patrick at Quinupe Barbershop.) But in Joanne and Neil’s case, the service was terrible and the staff certainly could have done more to offset the many errors.

That Joanne and Neil didn’t want to press the issue with the restaurant or the hotel staff was their decision. Her inclination to write an honest and thorough review strikes me as the right thing to do.

Joanne’s review wouldn’t serve solely to let off steam. It might help future customers know that the restaurant does have some off nights. It would also alert the restaurant management that it can and should do better.

If the rest of their hotel stay was as exceptional as Joanne indicated, she also might want to leave a separate review about that. Happy anniversary.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

A correction can be a simple kindness

Should you correct someone’s pronunciation if you’re unlikely to ever see the person again?

Years ago, I wrote about how a librarian at a college I attended was crushed when she found out no one had corrected her pronunciation when she got it wrong. The librarian had grown up in France and immigrated to the United States late in life. When her mispronunciation was pointed out to her, she wondered out loud why no one had ever bothered to correct her before. She was both disappointed and embarrassed that she had been pronouncing some words incorrectly for years.

One of the reasons no one corrected her was likely that they didn’t feel comfortable embarrassing her without realizing that she might have considered it a thoughtful gesture. When she found out years after no one corrected her, her feelings of hurt lingered toward those with whom she regularly had contact.

But what about when the person mispronouncing is someone you’re likely never to see again?

On a tour of some Portuguese churches recently, the woman I’d eat bees for and I were lucky enough to be assigned to a terrific group tour guide. He was a former translator from Brazil who had a few months earlier relocated to Portugal. While his native language was Portuguese, the tour was conducted in Spanish and English since those were the predominant languages of those in our tour group. He would alternate his descriptions in Spanish and English and did so seamlessly. His grammar and usage were flawless as was most of his pronunciation. But each time he used the word “bishop,” he would pronounce it with the first syllable sounding like “bye” rather than rhyming with “dish.”

It was a day-long bus tour, so for the first hour or so we wondered whether it would be appropriate to say something to him, or if it would seem arrogant, judgmental or annoying. During a short break, however, I found myself standing next to him and we got to talking. I learned that while he had learned to speak English in grade school, he had only picked up Spanish about six months earlier, which struck me as impressive. I decided to tell him then about bishop, but told him that his English otherwise struck me as flawless and that the information overall was helpful without being overwhelming.

He seemed grateful, but then again, he was working for tips at the end of the tour so I’m not sure responding angrily would have been a good business move on his part. Nevertheless, he persisted in thanking me and the rest of the tour went fine, although oddly enough the word “bishop” never came up again.

I chose to tell him not because I found it important to be right about something. I did so because ultimately I decided that if I were in his position, I would want to know so I could avoid making the same mistake on future tours. The same is true in the work I do. I appreciate it when students correct me when I make a mistake and when readers point out when I commit an error in the column.

When we believe we can help someone do something better than they are already doing it, it strikes me as the right thing to try to do so. Uma simples gentileza.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Should you be skeptical before handing out money?

How skeptical should you be before giving money to a stranger?

A reader we’re calling Diletta recounted a 30-year-old memory when she emailed me recently. Back in 1995, Diletta recalled, she lived about 100 miles south of Chicago.

One day she drove her teenage daughter and several of her friends into Chicago for lunch, shopping and theater. Diletta failed to notice that a woman on the street approached one of her daughter’s friends and proceeded to tell her about her 6-year-old daughter who needed surgery, among other challenges the woman faced. “This kind-hearted girl gave the woman every penny she had,” wrote Diletta. “That meant no money for lunch, theater ticket any souvenir.”

Diletta didn’t realize what had happened until she saw the young woman sitting at the lunch table with just a glass of water.

“She had also been crying over the plight of ‘this poor woman.’”

Diletta bought the girl lunch and paid for her theater ticket since she didn’t want to leave her out.

She also recalled “gently trying” to tell the girl that the woman’s story was probably not true. “Illinois had Medicaid coverage for children if indeed she had a daughter, and she would not need to be begging on the corners for surgery money.” While she believed it likely, she did not tell the girl that the money would likely go to drugs or alcohol.

“What advice would you give to help kids understand that it’s great to have a heart for people in need, but not to get suckered into handing your money over in situations like this?” asked Diletta. “What can be said to make young people aware without completely jading them?”

As I've written before, none of us can really know and shouldn’t expect to know the true reason someone asks us for money, nor how they plan to use any money we may provide. The right thing, when someone asks for money, is to decide whether or not to give it, based on whatever criteria you may see fit: whether the person looks truly needy, when and where the approach is made, what your financial situation may be at the moment, whether the pitch sounds sincere, original or even amusing ... all of these are legitimate considerations, if you choose.

You should not, however, have any expectation that you can control how that person spends whatever money you may give. Once you give someone your money, it's their money, and he can spend it any way he likes.

Not to give money is an entirely acceptable decision, ethically speaking -- asking you for money in no way creates an ethical obligation for you to give it.

It also shouldn’t be expected that someone would give away everything. I’m reminded of Joseph Singer’s book The Edges of the Field. The title is drawn from an Old Testament passage in Leviticus that instructs property owners not to reap the very edges of the fields they own nor to gather fallen grapes from their vineyards, but instead to leave those for the poor. Possession of a resource, according to Singer, implies an obligation to a larger community.

That notion might have been helpful to Diletta in explaining how it’s the right thing to want to help, but perhaps to consider doing so in a way that doesn’t prove harmful to ourselves.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Is taking the last doughnut bad form?

Is it wrong to take the last doughnut?

A reader we’re calling Honoré doesn’t want to anger his colleagues when someone brings in a box of doughnuts by taking the last one in the box. He’d rather leave it for someone else than be perceived as being thoughtless.

Determining how to be fair about sharing communal food in the workplace isn't an issue likely to have devastating consequences. But it is good to know that employees like Honoré try to be thoughtful about even the small stuff. Honoré is a relatively new employee so he feels the need to be particularly careful about not violating any workplace norms when it comes to such things.

In some workplaces, it’s fairly common for employees to bring in leftover birthday cake or Halloween candy and put it out for all to share. My experience is that any cake that is left out for the taking is gone quickly. Candy might go a little more slowly, although particular beloved brands do a fast disappearing act. While some employees might show some restraint because they don’t want to overindulge, it’s rare that anyone who truly wants to partake in some tasty morsels will decline the offering.

On the occasions when I’ve brought doughnuts into a class of students whom I knew had been up late the night before working on a project, most don’t hesitate to enjoy a doughnut. But other odd behavior sometimes occurs. Often, quite a few students will break a doughnut in half and eat that, only to return later to eat another half. Sometimes the half-takers will eat three or five halves of doughnuts rather than one whole one. I pass no judgment, other than observing it would be simpler just to take a whole doughnut in the first place.

I know, I know. Doughnuts are not considered to be particularly healthy. I shouldn’t be encouraging my students to eat poorly. There are other options, of course. Kale. Canned fish. Cottage cheese. Celery or carrot sticks. Nevertheless, even though I rarely eat one, I persist in believing that a tasty cake doughnut after a long night of writing could be good for mental health. But I digress.

It is also common for students not to want to take the last doughnut in the box if only one is left, or in some cases only a few halves are left. But I encourage my students not to let the doughnuts go bad.

Fortunately, there are at least two WhatsApp groups I know of where I teach where students notify one another when food is left over from a meeting – whether it’s protein and vegetables from a lunch buffet, pizza, cookies, beverages, hummus, fresh fruit, or any number of items. Within minutes students and staff can swarm to the leftovers and make sure nothing goes to waste. Reducing waste is a good thing.

The right thing for Honoré is to eat a doughnut if he’s hungry and wants one. Just as he shouldn’t feel obligated to eat one if he doesn’t want to, he also should feel no compunction about eating the last doughnut.

If he wants to show some courtesy to his colleagues, it wouldn’t kill him to toss the empty box and tidy up a bit.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Should I tip my food delivery person?

Is it wrong not to tip a food service provider?

A reader from California who we’re calling Martha emailed to express frustration over knowing when it is appropriate to tip food service workers.

“I have no trouble tipping a waiter or waitress for service in a restaurant, basing the tip amount on the quality of service,” she wrote. “Yesterday, in fact, we gave a 30 percent tip to a waitress who went above and beyond to make our meal satisfying.”

But Martha asks about tipping people “who are simply doing their job, before they have even done anything.” She focuses on the example of food delivery drivers and offering a tip when she pays when ordering her meal.

Martha’s friends tell her she “must” give big tips because food delivery drivers don’t get paid well.

“Isn’t that their issue with their employer?” Martha asked. “I don’t tip Fed Ex or postal employees for delivering packages. Why am I expected to tip drivers delivering groceries or hot food?

“How about when I pick up a meal to-go?” she continued. “I am not asked to tip at fast food restaurants but if I order ahead for food to go from the local burger shop, when I walk in to pick it up, I am asked to tip.”

While Martha is not obligated to tip her food deliverers, it is customary to do so for the service they provide. The deliverers are typically not highly paid and they do not receive any delivery surcharge tacked onto a bill.

Yes, they could take up their low pay with their employer, but any increases would likely be passed on to Martha and others in the form of higher food prices. It’s up to Martha, however, if and how much she wants to tip a delivery driver. Ostensibly she’s paying for the effort the driver made to do a good and timely job of getting Martha her food so she wouldn’t have to leave her house to go get it.

Picking up a burger or a muffin at a local establishment strikes me as a bit different. While there’s been more of a push to encourage tips on checkout screens, if the effort is a clerk essentially putting an item in a bag and handing it to a customer who walks in, it seems perfectly reasonable for Martha to balk at leaving a tip if she doesn’t want to.

The sometimes not-so-subtle pressure to leave a tip has seemed to pick up with the advent of paying online and screens asking for tips. If Martha doesn’t want to tip, she doesn’t have to, unless she is with a large party and automatic gratuity is added to the bill.

The reason for tipping, however, is to compensate servers or deliverers for work in an industry that still sees tipping as making up a sizable portion of their income. Unless, tipping becomes a thing of the past, Martha and the rest of us will be left to calculate how generous we want to be to someone who provides us a service.

The right thing is to calculate how good the service was or, in the case of food delivery people, how convenient and timely their delivery efforts were and base any tip on that.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

(c) 2025 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.