Something is very wrong with the world.

Every so often I have to visit the post office. For the past several years, every single interaction with a postal employee has been pleasant, professional, service-oriented, and efficient.

When you can’t count on the USPS to give you something to gripe about, what can you count on?

Not the e-mail tax the USPS supposedly wants to impose. That’s one of those ridiculous Internet myths that refuses to die. If you haven’t heard the news yet, Nixon privatized the postal service — it isn’t part of the government, hasn’t been for nearly three decades, and has no taxing authority.

You can always count on me, though. I gave many of you something to gripe about with my recent column on religion in the workplace. Hundreds of you sent e-mails … all untaxed … divided almost exactly in half between those who thought I was way out of bounds and those who thanked me for my stance. Among the letters were a few points that call for a bit more coverage:

  • Several readers figured when I said you shouldn’t bring your beliefs into the workplace I meant you literally have to leave them at home. You can no more leave your beliefs behind than you can a beer belly or your left knee. What you can do is keep them in your head, to guide your decisions and help you cope with the inevitable frustrations of corporate life.
  • During social interactions with friends, which do happen at the office, respectful exchanges of views are just fine, too. It’s pretty easy, though, for an exchange of views (“Here’s how we look at an issue like this — how about you?”) to slip into dangerous territory. Presenting your beliefs is one thing. Attacking those of others is quite another.
  • Another distinction that doesn’t seem sufficiently well understood is the difference between beliefs and opinions. It’s a belief when you cite an authoritative text. It’s an opinion when you debate observable facts and dissectable logic. Debates of fact and logic are always acceptable. They’re rarely persuasive, but that’s a whole different subject.
  • Several readers missed a crucial point about the job applicant who said he was a Christian: He was interviewing for a management position. A qualified manager would know that religious affiliation, along with marital status, age, ethnicity, or any other completely irrelevant topic that could bias a hiring decision, has no place in a job interview. It was this lack of professionalism, and bad judgment which should have disqualified him, not his Christianity. And hiring the guy because of his religion was discriminatory toward all of the other applicants — a definite no-no.
  • Several Muslim readers corrected my use of “Islamic”. The religion is Islam; adherents are Muslims. “Islamic” means “pertaining to Islam.” My thanks to all who wrote.
  • Several readers told me of disparaging comments made toward fundamentalist Christians. That hasn’t been my experience … I’ve mostly experienced the reverse, or maybe I’m less attuned to this kind or remark. Regardless, it’s no more appropriate to disparage fundamentalist Christians than to be disparaged by them. This is how a society polarizes, and how Yugoslavia happens. Don’t feel any need to be the first on your block to exacerbate this trend.
  • And finally, if this wasn’t completely clear in the first column … I’m not presenting my personal system of beliefs, insisting that you accept my views over all others. While the details will vary, the law — not Bob Lewis — requires managers to protect workers from experience threatening and harassing work environments, and with few exceptions precludes discriminatory hiring.

If you aren’t clear on your obligations, what’s allowed and disallowed, what it means to embrace diversity in the workplace, and the difference between toleration of others and mutual respect … chances are your employees are equally confused or more so. That’s not good.

So as a stopgap, until you can schedule diversity training, here’s a simple rule that will keep you out of trouble: Never generalize about identifiable groups of people.

And why would you want to, anyway? Marketing professionals learned long ago that the most effective messages are personalized. You should too. Whether it’s an insult or a compliment, your message will always be more effective, and appropriate, when it’s personal.

Confrontation doesn’t come easily to most of us.

When making the transition from staff to management, learning how and when to confront others is one of the most important skills to master. Nowhere is it more important than when you take over an existing department. Why? Hold on a moment and we’ll get there.

You have three rules to follow when you take on management of an ongoing operation. Assuming your memory extends to last December, you’ll recall two previous columns on the subject. The first explained why taking over a desk o’ death is preferable to inheriting a well-run operation (success is easy in the former situation and impossible in the latter), and provided the first rule governing the situation: Keep your mouth shut while you size up the situation.

The second column described the rule that applies if you find yourself managing a group you’d previously treated as the competition. Some managers foster an us-versus-them mentality as a team-building technique. While this technique is easy and effective, it has two disadvantages. The first is bad aim: You’re supposed to be competing with other companies, not with other parts of your own company.

The other problem? Your new employees aren’t going to forget all those disparaging things you said about them. Now that you have to lead them, what do you do? My recommendation was to focus on the future. You can’t repair or explain away the past, so they already don’t like you. If they also decide you’re weak — and apologizing is too-easily interpreted as a sign of weakness — your ability to lead them is gone.

This week we cover the third and final rule for taking over a department: Deal with your rivals. That’s where adroit confrontation comes in.

Remember the listen-don’t-talk rule? One key datum you’re looking for is the name of your principle rival. Almost certainly, one of your new employees thinks he or she should be running the joint, and may have applied for the job. If your hiring manager didn’t give you this critical factoid, you’ll have to uncover it on your own. Once you do, it’s time for that confrontation.

Machiavelli would have told you to publicly hang this miscreant. Kill your most dangerous rival and other potential rivals will get the message. In a modern organization, you can’t hang inconvenient employees (you did know this, didn’t you?) so the Machiavellian thing to do is to fire them.

Machiavelli wasn’t wrong, at least not from the perspective of effective maintenance of power. Leaving a rival in place can be dangerous to your career. Since you’re operating in modern America, not Renaissance Florence, you have a more subtle approach you can try before you terminate or transfer: Co-option. As soon as you can, meet one-on-one. You have two goals: To establish that you’re the boss, and to determine your erstwhile rival’s future. It should go something like this:

“I understand you wanted this job. That puts us in an awkward situation. I have to be able to trust you, you have to accept my leadership, and these are both unnatural acts. If you do accept my leadership this situation can work well for both of us. If you can’t, we’re both going to be better off if you find something different to do.

“The only way for this to work is for you to be my most vocal supporter. If you can’t, I’ll take the necessary steps and I’ll take them quickly. I’d rather not have to do that, but I can’t lead this department with somebody like you undercutting me.

“If you can work with me under these circumstances, it can be to your benefit. I’m ambitious enough that in a couple of years I’ll be looking for my next promotion. If you’re as good as we both think you are, we can make sure you’re the lead candidate next time.

“If you don’t think you can work under my leadership, tell me. I won’t resent it, and I’ll help you find another position in the company.

“Think it over. Let’s meet again next week — I’d like your answer then.”

Sound harsh? Maybe. Personally, I think it’s more compassionate than leaving someone in a situation they’ll end up hating while putting yourself in harm’s way.

And if you’re wondering … yes, I learned this the hard way. Twice.