I once believed being a “nice” manager was the highest ideal. It felt right. It felt humane. People liked you more, and your team felt cared for. But over the past decade of working with Filipino teams, mentoring leaders, and coaching supervisors, a different reality has become obvious: sometimes, being nice gets in the way of good leadership—especially as our workforce evolves.

You may have seen the recent chatter regarding companies like TikTok—the very platform many young professionals use daily—instructing managers not to be overly polite or avoid hard truths in performance reviews. The rationale? Trying to make everyone happy can dilute honesty and even hurt those who are truly delivering results. Managers are encouraged to confront poor performance frankly and give credit where it’s due, rather than softening the blow just to spare feelings. While some see this as harsh, the core idea is simple: clarity and direct feedback matter more than being liked.

Transplant that concept into the Philippine setting. Our culture deeply values respect, harmony, and smooth interpersonal relationships. We smile, we say “po” and “opo,” and we want the workplace to feel like a community. This is a strength, but here’s the rub: when managers prioritize being pleasant above all else, they often avoid tough conversations. We might delay a difficult talk to avoid hurting feelings, withhold feedback to spare an ego, or give everyone a “satisfactory” rating just to keep the peace.

That is where “nice” becomes a trap.

Employees need direction. They need to know where they stand, how to improve, and what incentives drive their growth. If you cloak every conversation in niceness, you rob people of clear signals regarding what "good work" looks like. You slow their development and, unintentionally, demoralize your top performers. If your best people sense that mediocrity is tolerated to avoid awkward confrontations, they will quietly disengage.

Now, add a fresh twist: Generation Z. The oldest Gen Z employees are well into their twenties, bringing energy, tech fluency, and fresh ideas. However, they also have a different relationship with work. They want regular feedback and a sense of being seen. They won't wait for an annual review to learn where they stand; they crave real-time correction and affirmation. If they don’t get it, they move on. In fact, surveys suggest that over 70% of Gen Z respondents would leave a job if they didn't receive meaningful, ongoing feedback.

Here is the paradox: Gen Z doesn’t want hollow compliments. They want clear insights into what they did well and where they can improve. They want to know your guidance has real value. If your version of being "nice" means withholding feedback until the end of the year, you are setting yourself up for attrition, not loyalty.

During a performance review, “nice” often sounds like, “Great job, keep doing your best,” when the employee actually needs a firm course correction. That helps no one—not the employee, the team, nor the organization.

I’ve met leaders who water down performance ratings because they don't want to be "mean." The result is often worse: employees leave confused, assuming “satisfactory” means they are on track for a promotion, only to be disappointed later. Meanwhile, your top contributors lose trust in a leadership that fails to distinguish excellence from the status quo.

Trust, not niceness, is the true currency of leadership. You can be respectful and candid simultaneously. You can care about someone’s future while telling them they need to step up. In fact, people respect that combination far more than a manager who simply wants to be popular.

Of course, cultural context matters. In the Philippines, direct confrontation can feel uncomfortable. But leadership means having the courage to name performance gaps without shaming the person. It means setting expectations that are transparent and fair. Your job as a manager is not to make everyone comfortable; it is to help people grow and do what is best for the business.

I’ve seen teams transformed when managers learned to speak clearly, listen actively, and follow up consistently. This isn't about firing people; it’s about creating an environment where people know what "great" looks like, where they are supported through honesty, and where hard work is genuinely recognized.

You must also adapt your feedback rhythm. Young workers today don’t wait for annual cycles; they want check-ins and praise tied to specific behaviors. This doesn't mean abandoning respect; it means reshaping feedback into a continuous conversation rather than a yearly verdict.

To be clear, I’m not advocating for cruelty. I’m advocating for substance over surface. Being nice for niceness’s sake isn’t leadership—it’s a short-term escape from conflict that inevitably explodes later. Good leadership is about helping people get better, which requires telling the truth in a way that fosters growth.

Ultimately, being a good manager in the Philippines today means balancing kindness with candor. You want people to feel respected, but also challenged. You want trust, not just warmth. If you can manage that balance, you will build teams that stay, learn, and outperform. That is a kindness that lasts far longer than polite words.