There are two stories. In one, it was written on a napkin, inspired by her daughter’s lesson at school, and handed to a waiter to inspire others.
In the other version, it was a deliberate and well-thought-through statement.
The writer and activist Ann Herbert created the phrase “random acts of kindness,” which has defined how to be kind in the world (it even has its own day).
Kindness is weaker because of this.
Let’s consider the second story as told by the co-creator of the phrase, Paloma Pavel:
Anne Herbert and I were responding to our despair at accelerating systemic violence, specifically domestic Rodney King incident of racial violence and police brutality and the international drum beat to war in the Persian Gulf that was engulfing the nighttime news. We wanted to stop the wars… To create a spell that would shatter the trance. So we took the phrase “random violence and senseless acts of cruelty” and created a “reversal” (to use feminist philosopher Mary Daly’s strategy). It was not too tough to find kindness for violence. Not wimpy kindness but tough Dalai Lama never give up kindness. “Beauty” for “cruelty” was the radical innovation.
This message became a defining quote for Herbert. She later put it on posters in the 1980s and wrote a book in 1993 to spread the concept further. Ann passed away in 2015. The phrase lives on and has come to define expressions of kindness to others. It even has its own day.
I’ll repeat—kindness is weaker because of this phrase.
It has culturally defined the idea that kindness is a random event, often practiced on strangers. Something you do when you want to make someone feel good. This has pushed kindness into the margins, an occasional benevolent act. One that’s random. When you feel like it.
Let’s break this down.
Ann and Paloma were using kindness as a provocation for debate and activism to curb violence. Of course, a good thing, but not an instruction to buy coffee for strangers.
Their intention was deliberate. Their choice of wording was deliberate. They were simply not being random.
No act of kindness is random. When you are kind to someone, even if you give it little or next to no thought, you have a deliberate intent—to lift that person in some way. It may seem random to the person receiving it, but the deliberate intent was there.
Kindness is both deliberate and powerful. Not something to be pushed to the margins of life and work. Done when you feel good and want to lift others too.
Don't be random. Be kind.
The allure of random acts of kindness lies in their spontaneity. There's something charming about paying for the coffee of the person behind you in the queue or leaving a cheerful note on a stranger's windscreen. These acts certainly brighten someone's day, and there's undeniable value in that. However, the real question we need to ask is: do these acts lead to a sustained impact, or are they fleeting moments soon forgotten?
This is where the concept of self-kindness comes into play. I define it as the practice of greeting our own vulnerabilities, failures, and imperfections with understanding and patience rather than harsh judgement. Self-kindness is foundational. It's the courage to observe ourselves through a lens of empathy and love, treating ourselves with the same tenderness we would offer a cherished friend. Think of self-kindness as the soil in which the seeds of kindness for others are sown. It becomes a vital starting point, helping us shift from random acts to a consistent, authentic ethos of kindness.
When kindness is random, it is also optional. On the other hand, when kindness is embedded in your character, influenced by a foundation of self-kindness, it becomes a constant, guiding all your interactions, be they big or small. This approach generates a ripple effect, creating a culture that values empathy, listening, and understanding. By nurturing yourself, you cultivate a mindset naturally inclined towards empathy and compassion for others.
So, how can we move from random acts to genuine kindness, both towards ourselves and others?
Let's stop “doing” kind and start “being” kind.
Begin with self-reflection. Take a moment to assess what kindness means to you and how it manifests in your daily life. Practice self-kindness, greeting your vulnerabilities and imperfections with understanding and patience. Second, be intentional about your actions. Kindness shouldn't be a random thing you do when the idea occurs to you; aim for it to be a conscious and deliberate choice. And lastly, broaden your scope. Kindness isn't just about small acts to make people feel better—kindness has the power to make work better for everyone and reverse the damage we've done to the planet.
So, while initiatives that encourage random acts of kindness aren't without merit, they need to be part of a larger cultural commitment to ongoing compassion and empathy. Being kind should be more than an isolated incident; it should be a vital part of who we are, influencing how we engage with the world around us.
Starting with a foundation of self-kindness, let's transcend the randomness and create a world that doesn't just “do” kind but strives, wholeheartedly, to “be” kind.