Al Capone called himself "a public benefactor." Dutch Schultz, one of New York's most notorious criminals, said he had a good heart. 

The warden of Sing Sing prison observed something: few criminals there saw themselves as bad people. They rationalized everything. Justified their actions. Convinced themselves they shouldn't be imprisoned at all.

If hardened criminals don't blame themselves for anything, what about the rest of us?

This is where criticism fails. It puts people on the defensive, makes them justify themselves, wounds their pride, and breeds resentment. 

The psychologist B.F. Skinner proved that animals rewarded for good behavior learn faster than those punished for bad. Later studies showed humans work the same way. 

Criticism doesn't create lasting change.

The Prophet ﷺ understood this. He never criticized people in ways that wounded their dignity or pushed them away. When a Bedouin grabbed his cloak so roughly it left marks on his neck and demanded money harshly, the Prophet ﷺ didn't rebuke him. He smiled and ordered that the man be given what he asked for. When another Bedouin urinated in the masjid, the Prophet ﷺ stopped the companions from dealing with him harshly and instead taught with kindness.

We're not creatures of pure logic. We're people driven by emotion, bristling with ego, motivated by pride and the need to protect their sense of self.

The Prophet ﷺ taught us to be merciful, to make excuses for our brothers and sisters, to assume the best.

Instead of condemning, try understanding. Figure out why people do what they do. It's more profitable than criticism and it breeds sympathy, tolerance, and the kind of mercy that transforms hearts.

To know all is to forgive all.

Reflect on this:

Reflect on a time you were corrected. How did the manner of that correction affect your heart and your willingness to change?

^{Share your reflections in the poll at the end of the email.}