On November 1, 1955, Dale Carnegie died at age sixty-six in Forest Hills, New York. At his death, he was regarded as one of history’s most successful authors and a pioneering figure in what is now called the “self-help” movement. Born as Dale Carnagey in 1888 on a family farm in Missouri, he was raised in humble circumstances, but began to entertain lofty dreams for himself after reading the Horatio Alger and other rags-to-riches stories that were popular at the time.
After high school, Dale attended a small state teachers’ college in Warrensburg, Missouri. When he failed to land a spot on any of the school’s athletic teams, he gave up dreams of becoming a professional athlete. And even though he was painfully shy, he began to think about a career in acting or public speaking.
He worked in several sales jobs after graduating from college in 1908, but felt unfulfilled. By 1911, he was off to New York to pursue his dreams. A brief time at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts got him a role with a touring theater group, but he quickly decided the actor’s life was not for him. Almost out of money, he headed back to Manhattan and got a room at the 125th Street YMCA.
In 1912, with no job prospects on the horizon, he convinced the YMCA manager to let him teach a class on public speaking. He had no experience, but what he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in enthusiasm. After a few false starts, his classes became extremely popular. Students signed up for the course expecting to learn public speaking skills, but they soon discovered the class was more about facing fears, taking risks, and overcoming obstacles (most of them self-imposed). Within a year, the new teacher felt confident enough to self-publish a book on public speaking. By 1916, he was so popular in his adopted city that he delivered a lecture to a packed house at Carnegie Hall, built in 1891 and named for the industrialist-turned-philanthropist Andrew Carnegie. More than one person noted the coincidence of a man named Carnagey lecturing at a hall named Carnegie. A few years later, after Dale formally changed the spelling of his name to Carnegie, many described it as one of his shrewdest marketing moves.
Over the next decade, Carnegie made a good deal of money and became a popular figure in New York City. One of his pals was Lowell Thomas, a journalist who had recently made a name for himself by chronicling the Arabian exploits of T. E. Lawrence. Thomas and Carnegie were not only friends, they also cohosted a Manhattan radio program for a few years. As the 1920s were coming to an end, the farm boy from Missouri was prospering. Then came the stock market crash of 1929; he lost almost all of his savings.
As Carnegie began to pull himself back up in the 1930s, the enormous economic collapse dramatically reduced the number of students who could afford to pay for his course. But, true to the principles he had been teaching for so many years, he persisted, and he continued to give all of his students his very best efforts. In 1934, Leon Shimkin, a young bookkeeper at Simon & Schuster, signed up for Carnegie’s fourteen-week class. He was so impressed after the first session that he asked for permission to let his stenographer sit in on the rest of the classes to take notes. The enthusiastic Mr. Shimkin ultimately shared his notes with a few colleagues on the editorial side of the publishing house—and in 1936 Simon & Schuster published Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People. Initial expectations were not high (the initial print run was only 5,000 copies) and early reviews were lukewarm. The New York Times said it revealed “a subtle cynicism,” despite containing some “sound, practical common sense” tips.
Within a year, however, the book was a bestseller and Carnegie achieved celebrity status. How to Win Friends and Influence People ultimately became the most successful self-improvement book in publishing history, with over thirty million copies sold worldwide. The book was a compendium of principles for creating productive and harmonious relationships. Many were expressed positively, as in these “Six Ways to Make People Like You”:1. Become genuinely interested in other people.2. Smile.3. Remember that a person’s name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language.4. Be a good listener: Encourage others to talk about themselves.5. Talk in terms of the other person’s interests.6. Make the other person feel important—and do it sincerely.
In his writings, Carnegie also offered many admonitions, but his tendency was to present them mildly, preferring to use don’t rather than never in such sayings as, “Don’t criticize,” “Don’t take yourself too seriously,” and “Don’t stew about the future.” When he did use the word never, he often phrased it in an inviting, as opposed to a commanding, way, as in, “Let’s never waste a minute thinking about people we don’t like.”
On occasion, though, Carnegie delivered straight-out neverisms, expressing himself more forcefully—and with far more impact—when he did:
Never forget that speaking is an art.
Never begin by announcing
“I am going to prove so-and-so to you.”
If the speaker is wrong in a statement,
never contradict him flatly.
Show respect for the other person’s opinions.
Never say, “You’re wrong.”
Never forget that all our associates are human beings
and hunger for appreciation.
It is the legal tender that all souls enjoy.
For most of history, advice about how to get along with people has been provided—often generously so—by parents, especially fathers. And when it comes to fatherly advice, few can rival Philip Dormer Stanhope, also known as Lord Chesterfield, discussed earlier. His epistolary advice to his son ranged widely, but much of it centered on the nuances of interpersonal relationships, and it was often expressed with firm conviction:
Take care never to seem dark and mysterious.
Never maintain an argument with heat and clamor,
though you think or know yourself to be in the right.
When you have found out the prevailing passion of any man,
remember never to trust him where that passion is concerned.
Never think of entertaining people with your personal concerns,
or private affairs; though they are interesting to you,
they are tedious and impertinent to everybody else.
Never hold anybody by the button, or the hand, in order to be heard out;
for if people are not willing to hear you,
you had much better hold your tongue than them.
Benjamin Disraeli, another English gentleman, also enjoyed giving relationship advice to a younger generation. When asked by a member of Parliament what advice he would give to his son, Disraeli barely hesitated before replying:
Never tell unkind stories; above all, never tell long ones.
Over the years, fathers have also guided their daughters in the finer points of interpersonal life. When young Jacqueline Bouvier and her sister Lee were growing up on the fashionable East Side of Manhattan, they received almost constant instruction in the social graces from their father, the dashing John (“Black Jack”) Bouvier III. A handsome man with thick, heavily lacquered black hair that was combed straight back, Bouvier knew how to make a dramatic entrance when he walked into a room. He instructed his girls in this fine art as well. You must always, he advised, walk directly to the center of the room, with your chin up, and with a dazzling smile, if appropriate. But you must not be overly friendly. Many men will find that intimidating, and might be fearful of approaching you. And there is one thing you must never do, he would conclude: