The Hot Letter

We can do irreparable damage to a long-term relationship by acting on short-term emotion.

Abraham Lincoln was steaming.

The battle of Gettysburg was won, and the Confederates should’ve been near surrender, but the president felt Gen. George Meade had horribly botched the next steps.

“You had at least twenty thousand veteran troops directly with you, and as many more raw ones within supporting distance, all in addition to those who fought with you at Gettysburg,” Lincoln wrote Meade.

“And yet you stood and let the flood run down, bridges be built, and the enemy move away at his leisure, without attacking him.”

Except Lincoln never sent the letter, knowing it would crush his faithful general to learn of his boss’ extreme disappointment.

The “hot letter” was a critical tool for Lincoln during his presidency. He wrote several of them in which he’d unabashedly express his rage toward someone. But he wouldn’t send them, knowing that the potential damage the words might do far outweighed the satisfaction he’d get.

It’s easy to grow irate at team members and underlings whose missteps make our already-difficult jobs even harder.

Someone horribly drops the ball on an account, some assistant coach badly botches a scouting report, a friend does something really stupid to make our life more difficult.

They’re maddening scenarios, but we can do irreparable damage to a long-term relationship by acting on short-term emotion.

Gen. Meade continued to serve Lincoln loyally after the debacle, but who knows what might’ve transpired had the president had this message delivered?

When we grow irate at someone over a misstep, we can journal, we can write the letter, draft the email or type out the text.

But let’s think back on Lincoln and Meade before sending it.