A very good rule of life is to not talk about, to not even mention, other people, unless we have a good reason. This rule follows from basic moral principles of Christianity, and from psychological considerations. It is particularly well-suited to today’s world, and includes not only use of the tongue but all forms of communication, including social media.
In a paper I wrote on gossip, I set out the Epistle of St James, and what he says about the tongue. I shall not repeat that here. It is sufficient to say that this great saint and apostle recognises that the tongue has a tremendous power not only for good but also for evil and that us, as we are, it is unfortunately the evil side of the tongue which is only too evident.
To understand how dangerous even one comment we make can be, consider the example of a tap. If I turn on the tap in a sink or a bathtub, and go away, it will eventually overflow and flood the house, destroying the floor and much else besides. Our words are like that in a very real way but we do not notice it, because, once we have spoken, we walk away. But like a tap which keeps running, our words are alive in people’s memories, and can be repeated, if not that day, then the next day, or the next week, month, or year. But in fact, a word spoken about another person, especially an interesting word, such as a piece of gossip, is more like a knife hurtling through the air: if it does not hit someone it is just good luck.
Now, when I say do not talk about other people without a “good reason” I mean a reason which is both sound and virtuous. A sound reason for speaking about someone else means that there is a practical reason for speaking about someone else. Examples would be naming them in order to identify them (e.g. this bag belongs to Susan, she left it here the other day, could you return it to her when you see her?), to distinguish them from someone else (Harry did not steal the money—it must have been someone else), or hold them out as a role model (Gerard had a bad cold, but he still finished the work, and did it well. So can you). These are not the only examples of practical reasons, thus if someone asks me who wrote a certain book, I can quite properly name them. But curiosity or even a desire to know, by themselves, can never be such a practical reason.
A good or virtuous reason to mention someone else is to further moral purposes. It is always permissible, and even meritorious to speak about the actions and words of the saints; and of course we must name them. When we are speaking about history, it is always permissible to name the main characters: you do not have to discuss WWII without mentioning Winston Churchill. If you are discussing politics, you need to be able to name certain politicians. The same goes for discussions of the arts, literature, and sports. If you have a business and are interviewing applicants for a job you need to be able to name them.
The rule about not mentioning someone else unless I have a good reason must be understood as meaning “do not mention them in ordinary family and social conversation.” The fact that you are talking to a member of your own family is not significant. I know that many people think that, if it is in the family, any and all talk is allowable. I think that it is wrong. In fact, if family makes a difference, then I would say it is the opposite for the simple reason that an example of a lack of charity from a member of one’s own family is harder to put aside. And heaven help us if our parents are given to gossip. It creates a tradition which children will naturally think is quite alright—after all, our morality is first learnt from our parents.
When it comes to the exceptions such as politics, arts, and culture, we still must be careful not to lie, and not to be uncharitable. Thus, simply the fact that we have told the truth is not all the excuse we need: an unfavourable truth must be told with all charity—but that is the subject of my paper on gossip, detraction, and calumny.
It is all too easy to use an excuse to say something unfavourable about someone. For example, someone might say: “Pray for Gillian, she is using drugs and needs every prayer she can get.” That is a pretext. All one needs to say is: “Pray for Gillian.” However, one still needs to be careful even then: if I make such a request, it may prompt people to ask what is happening with Gillian. If I name the person and the fact they have a need, then I must also be prepared to state why, otherwise, I am practically inviting people to dig for the dirt. My own view is that in such circumstances, if I wish to pray for someone’s moral life, then I do so myself; I do not ask other people to do so. I can give a priest an envelope to say a Mass, but I cannot tell others. As I said, this refers to statements about someone’s moral life: if they are sick, it is quite different, but even then, if the person is an adult, it is best to seek their permission: they may not want others to know. Indeed, the use of prayer as a pretext, the appearance of charity, as a pretext makes the matter worse; it makes it into a sin, because it brings true charity into disrepute if that is possible. It makes all who pray look like hypocrites.
The fact that we have to go into so many exceptions about these rules shows what tricky ground we get into once we begin to speak about other people. It is much better to have a simple rule of not mentioning them at all unless your conscience strongly demands it of you.
But to close this for now, consider an important matter: I have, as a spiritual counsellor, advised a number of people not to even mention others unless they have a good reason. They have found four main things: first, they realise how much they have unnecessarily said about others. Second, and often with a shock, they realize that they have been unable to control their talking. Third, they become more sensitive to how they and others speak. Fourth, and this may be the most significant of all, they realize that they can control what they say, if they make the effort; they become more aware of what they are doing, their minds become more discerning, and they see how much energy they waste in talking to themselves.
In short, to control our talking brings us closer to an awakened Christian life.