Harsh but Not Teaching

It was Sunday and I happened to have some free time, so I went to visit a friend’s small workshop in Guangzhou.

The act of scolding is his way of telling himself, “I am qualified now.” Every shout seems to stabilize his position a little more.

In a corner of the workshop, I saw a somewhat familiar young man. He was speaking to a new employee, his voice loud and his tone harsh.

“What is this? Redo it.”

The new guy’s face flushed red, and he clumsily dismantled the work to redo it. The young man stood beside him, arms crossed, expressionless.

I remembered. The last time I came, he was the new one. Back then, he barely spoke, only giving a slight smile when greeted. When asked something, he would reply with just two words. My friend said he had been there for a month, learned the skills quickly, but was too quiet.

A month later, he began scolding others.

On the way back, I discussed this detail with my friend. He wasn’t surprised: “His skills are indeed fast, he can now work independently. Last month, two new employees arrived, and the boss asked him to guide them.”

“But he doesn’t really teach, he just scolds,” I said.

My friend smiled wryly: “A bit. Last time, a new employee quit because of his scolding. When the boss talked to him, he said, ‘I went through the same thing myself.’”

This sentence stunned me. “I went through the same thing myself.”
It’s like a spell that justifies the harm. Because he was drenched in the past, he now tears others’ umbrellas. Because he was yelled at, scolded, and treated without dignity, it’s now his turn, and all of this seems justified.

I thought carefully about what he was actually doing when scolding.

On the surface, he was pointing out mistakes. But on closer inspection, he was actually doing three things:

1. Confirming his own position
   When he first arrived, he was the lowest, and anyone could say something to him. Now, with newcomers, he is no longer at the bottom. Scolding is his way of telling himself, “I am qualified now.” Every shout seems to stabilize his position a little more.

2. Releasing pent-up emotions
   In that month, he endured scolding, frustration, and suppressed all grievances without release. Now, with newcomers, it’s like a valve has been opened. Half of his anger towards the newcomer is actually directed at those who scolded him, but since he can’t aim it upwards, he passes it down.

3. Avoiding real teaching
   Teaching requires patience and the ability to break down knowledge into understandable steps, which is hard. But scolding is simple. Saying “wrong” is much easier than explaining why it’s wrong. Saying “redo it” is easier than demonstrating how to do it correctly. So he chooses the simpler path and convinces himself that this is how to guide someone.

Combined, these three points are the full psychology behind his scolding. It’s unrelated to teaching, it’s about people; unrelated to skills, it’s about emotions.

Another detail is striking: he allows almost zero tolerance for mistakes. The first time a newcomer makes a mistake, he explodes; if they ask a question, he is annoyed; if they are slow, he rushes them.

But think carefully: when he first arrived, wasn’t he starting from zero too? Did he know everything, do everything fast, and never ask questions on his first day? Of course not. He just forgot. Or rather, he selectively forgets. Once he remembers, he can’t scold so confidently.
Only by erasing the memory of “I was like this before” can he stand in that position and say impatiently, “You can’t even do this?”

I’ve seen many such “junior leaders.” They aren’t managers, but because they arrived three or six months earlier than newcomers, they are pushed into the role of guiding others. No training, no methods, no guidance on “how to teach someone.”
The boss just says: “Help them out.” Then they tough it out.

They don’t know how to teach because no one taught them how. They just repeat what they experienced—what others did to me, I will do to them.
Those who scolded me, now I scold you.
Those who only told me “wrong” without explaining why, now I just say “redo it.”
Those who gave me zero tolerance, now I do the same.

This is not evil. It’s foolish. It’s poverty. It’s the reality in this workshop, this position, this industry: there is zero education about “how to guide someone.”

Harsh but not teaching is worse than not teaching at all.

Without teaching, newcomers may learn more slowly, but at least they aren’t afraid. They can ask, make mistakes, and explore on their own.

But with harshness, newcomers face a double blow:

• They don’t know what went wrong, and they are humiliated.
• They don’t know who to ask—because the person who should guide them is scolding them.
• They don’t know what to do—because the only feedback is “wrong,” not “what’s right.”
• They even start doubting themselves—am I really that stupid?

Eventually, they leave. Not because the work is too hard, not because the pay is low, but because they cannot endure “not knowing what’s wrong while being scolded every day.”

And the one with zero tolerance won’t think they have a problem. They will say: “Young people nowadays quit after two words, they can’t handle it.”

Actually, teaching a newcomer isn’t that hard. Tell them the standard, don’t just say “wrong,” say: “This screw needs three and a half turns, too many will strip, too few will be loose.”

Show them once, let them see the correct way.
After they try, give feedback. If correct, say “Correct, like this”; if wrong, say “See, this is half a turn short, try again.”

These steps don’t require you to be particularly smart or articulate.

You just need to be willing to replace “scolding him” with “teaching him”,
Replace “figure it out yourself” with “I’ll show you”,
Swallow “why are you so stupid” and instead say “It’s okay, try again.”
And be willing to slightly expand the almost zero tolerance.
Even allowing three mistakes instead of one, or one extra question without rolling your eyes.

I know the young man isn’t a bad person. He is just using the only way he knows to face a role he was never prepared for.
When he scolds, arms crossed, expressionless, he is imitating what he has seen before.
He believes that’s what a “qualified person” should look like.
He doesn’t know there is another way.
The fuzzier his memory of how he survived before, the less patience he has for newcomers.

The problem isn’t him. The problem is the system that asks him to “guide” but never teaches him “how to guide.”
Before him, his mentor treated him the same way.
After him, if no one breaks the chain, those he trains will treat future newcomers the same way. Harsh but not teaching is hereditary; zero tolerance is hereditary.

The only way to break it is for someone to do things differently. Even if it’s just saying: “Come, I’ll teach you.”

I often think of that newcomer who quit.
When he left, no one thought it was their own fault.
The boss thought he couldn’t handle hardship, the young man thought he was too sensitive.
But maybe he just wanted someone willing to teach him.