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.

Politics and religion are two of the three forbidden topics for polite conversation. Sex is the third, but its most interesting aspects don’t lend themselves to conversation anyway. But since sex is the only forbidden topic missing from this column in recent months, I figured, let’s make it a clean sweep …

Actually, no. Nor am I going to revisit politics. The electoral silly season is over.

Religion, on the other hand, calls for one more column.

Most of the responses I received in response to my recent column on core values were complimentary, compassionate, and favorable. To all who wrote, my thanks.

I also received dozens of letters I can only describe as evangelism. In conjunction with other recent experiences and conversations, I’m concerned.

It isn’t that I think conversations about either religion or politics are bad manners. In a society that depends on an informed electorate to choose its leaders, and also relies on the ability of diverse communities to coexist, one might consider exchanges of views on these subjects to be a worthwhile way for citizens to spend an evening or three.

So I don’t object at all to these messages that, either to criticize or evangelize, asserted the absolute truth of each writer’s brand of Christianity. I’m sincerely delighted for anyone who has found a system of belief that provides comfort and clarity. In churches, homes, and conversations with friends, your religious beliefs are your own business, so long as they don’t lead to actions that cause harm to others.

Bringing your beliefs into the workplace, on the other hand, creates discomfort for co-workers, and a dangerous situation for yourself and your employer. I worry that many Americans seem quite comfortable doing so.

Consider this anecdote, related by an acquaintance not long ago: “I interviewed a job applicant today. When he told me he was a Christian, I knew he’d be a great manager.”

Or this, mentioned to me casually in an open area by a middle-manager friend: “Secular humanism is the single biggest source of evil in the world today.”

Or this, paraphrased from several dozen office conversations I’ve overheard in recent years: “Islam isn’t like Christianity or Judaism. It encourages terrorism!”

(Or, at the risk of re-introducing politics, Joe Lieberman’s offensive comment, early in the presidential campaign, that God is the only source of ethics.)

If you don’t think attitudes like these can create discriminating or harassing work environments that lead to legal liability, you aren’t thinking. In the workplace, your actions and decisions must be pluralistic. You must show respect, not just toleration, regardless of your personal beliefs. It’s required, both by law and common courtesy. My friend who liked the Christian job applicant violated this rule, and to his company’s detriment. He should have disqualified the applicant for lack of professionalism, and is at risk of termination for his own unprofessional conduct.

It might appear that I’m singling out Christians in this column. If so, it’s because in my personal experience in the workplace I’ve only experienced evangelism and religious disrespect from people who describe themselves as such. Being the majority in America puts Christians most at risk. The principle certainly isn’t limited to Christianity, and if you’re Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist or Islamic (or, for that matter, a practitioner of Wicca or an atheist) … you also need to respect the beliefs of others, at least when you’re “on the clock”.

Values are an important part of leadership. By all means discuss values, but when you do, discuss them behaviorally. You can, and should ask, “What would you do in this situation?” and not only during job interviews. The best leaders both demonstrate personal integrity in their actions and demand it of their employees, and take steps to ensure the core values of the business are well-understood by all employees.

Discussing the source of those values in religious terms, and especially insisting that any one religious perspective is more correct than the rest, puts you in the danger zone. The gulf between, “Here’s what I believe,” and “I’m right so you must be misguided,” is immense. Discussions of religion happen on personal time and can have nothing to do with business.

Besides, if you use religion as a criterion for personnel decisions you won’t learn anything. After all, anyone can tell you they’re a Christian. In the workplace, it’s how they … and you … act that matters.