Chapter 5: The Fox Who Sees the Trap

The Colleague Who Was Always So Nice

Lerato is thirty-eight and works as a supervisor in a large hardware shop. She manages the garden department, with five staff, and she is good at her job: organized, fair and hard-working. Six months ago, a new supervisor named Dorian joined the shop to run the neighbouring department, which sells paint and decorating supplies. From the first day, Dorian was charming. He complimented Lerato on her displays, brought her coffee and told her that she was obviously the most capable supervisor in the shop.

Soon, Dorian began to ask for small favours. Could Lerato lend him two of her staff for an afternoon, because he was short-handed? Could she cover his department while he went to a meeting? Could she share her ordering spreadsheet, which was so much better than his? Each request came with warm thanks and more compliments. Lerato, flattered and helpful by nature, said yes every time.

Then, at a meeting with the store manager, Lerato heard Dorian present a new system for tracking stock levels. It was her spreadsheet, slightly changed. He did not mention her. The manager praised him. A few weeks later, Lerato heard from one of her staff that Dorian had been telling other supervisors that the garden department was "struggling" and that he had been "helping Lerato out". When she fell behind on her own work because she had lent him staff so often, the manager asked her whether she was coping.

Lerato felt sick. She realized that she had been led, step by step, into a trap. The compliments, the coffee, the warm thanks had not been friendship. They had been preparation. Each favour had made the next one easier to ask. And while she had been helping Dorian, he had been quietly building a story in which he was the capable one and she was the one who needed help.

Machiavelli wrote about this kind of situation in one of his most famous passages, using the image of two animals: the fox and the lion. His advice to rulers on this subject is among the most troubling things he wrote. But read carefully and honestly, it also contains a useful lesson for anyone who has ever been caught in a trap at work.

Two Ways of Fighting

In chapter 18 of The Prince, Machiavelli begins by observing that there are two ways of contending with others: by laws and by force. The first, he says, is proper to human beings. The second belongs to beasts. But because the first is often not enough, a ruler must also know how to use the second. In other words, he must know how to act both as a human being and as a beast (The Prince, chapter 18).

Of the beasts, Machiavelli says, a ruler should choose the fox and the lion. The lion cannot defend itself from traps, and the fox cannot defend itself from wolves. So one must be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten off wolves. Those who rely only on the lion, he says, do not understand this. Strength alone is not enough. A strong person who cannot see a trap will walk straight into it. A clever person who cannot stand firm will be overpowered.

So far, the image is useful for anyone. But Machiavelli then goes further, in a direction this book will not follow. He argues that a prudent ruler cannot, and should not, keep his word when keeping it would harm him, and when the reasons that made him promise no longer exist. Because people are not good, he says, and will not keep their word to you, you need not keep yours to them. He adds that a ruler must know how to disguise this, and that people are so simple that one who deceives will always find someone willing to be deceived (The Prince, chapter 18).

This is the Machiavelli that history has condemned, and the condemnation is fair. For a ruler in his violent century, he believed, survival sometimes required deception. For an ordinary person in ordinary working life, this advice is wrong, and it is also foolish. Our working lives depend on trust built over years. A person known to break their word soon finds that nobody will trust them, cooperate with them or help them in difficult times. Dorian may have gained an advantage over Lerato for a while. But as we will see, such advantages rarely last.

So this chapter takes from Machiavelli only the honest half of his image. We should become foxes who see traps, not foxes who set them. And we should become lions who stand firm, not lions who attack. The fox's eyes protect us from being deceived. The lion's courage protects us from being pushed around. Neither requires us to deceive or harm anyone.

How Traps Are Usually Built

Machiavelli's comment that one who deceives will always find someone willing to be deceived is cynical, but it points to something real. Most people are trusting. We assume that others mean what they say, and that kindness is sincere. This is a good quality, and a world without it would be cold and difficult. But it also makes us vulnerable to the few people who use kindness as a tool.

Traps at work are rarely dramatic. They are usually built slowly, from small pieces, like the one Dorian built for Lerato. Some common pieces are worth recognizing. Flattery that comes just before a request is one. Sincere appreciation is a gift, but praise that always arrives just before someone asks for something deserves a second look. Favours that grow step by step are another: a small request, then a larger one, then a larger one, each made easier by the last.

Other pieces include urgency that prevents thought: "I need an answer right now." Secrecy that isolates: "Do not mention this to anyone else." Credit that quietly moves: your idea, presented by someone else, without your name. Stories told behind your back that shape how others see you. Promises that are generous but vague: "There will definitely be something in this for you later." And guilt used as a lever: "After everything I have done for you, I thought you would help."

None of these pieces is proof of bad intentions on its own. Many people are urgent because they are genuinely busy, or vague because they are genuinely unsure. A fox does not see a trap in every bush. But when several pieces appear together, especially in a pattern that benefits one person at another's expense, it is wise to slow down, look carefully and protect yourself.

Protection usually involves simple, honest actions, not cleverness. Writing things down, so that agreements are clear. Confirming in writing who did what, so that credit does not move. Taking time before agreeing to requests. Speaking directly to the person involved, rather than letting a hidden story grow. And, where the behaviour becomes bullying or harassment, keeping records and seeking support through proper channels. These are the fox's eyes and the lion's courage, used honestly.

Lerato Stands Firm

Once Lerato saw the trap, she felt angry and hurt. Her first impulse was to confront Dorian publicly or to spread stories about him in return. But she remembered something her mother used to say: "Do not get into the mud with someone who enjoys it." She decided to respond as a fox who sees and a lion who stands firm, without becoming like Dorian.

First, she stopped the flow of favours. The next time Dorian asked to borrow her staff, she said calmly, "I am sorry, I need them in the garden department this week." When he responded with compliments, she thanked him and repeated her answer. When he tried guilt, saying that he had always helped her, she said, "I appreciate that. My answer is still no this week." Without the steady supply of favours, Dorian's department began to show its own problems.

Second, she made her own work visible, honestly. She asked for a short meeting with the store manager and explained, calmly and with facts, that the stock-tracking system Dorian had presented was based on a spreadsheet she had created, and showed the earlier versions with their dates. She did not attack Dorian. She simply said, "I am glad it is useful to the shop. I would like it to be known that it came from my department, and I would be happy to help train other supervisors to use it." She also explained that her department had fallen behind because she had lent staff to the paint department, and that she would no longer be doing so.

Third, she spoke directly to Dorian. She told him privately that she had heard he was describing her department as struggling, and that this was not accurate. She said that she would prefer him to come to her directly if he had concerns. Dorian was surprised and a little flustered. He denied it, but the stories stopped.

The store manager, who had begun to notice problems in the paint department, thanked Lerato for explaining. Over the following months, the manager paid closer attention to how work was really being done. Dorian eventually left the shop for another job. Lerato says that the most important lesson was not about Dorian. It was about herself. "I was so pleased to be complimented that I stopped looking at what was happening," she says. "Now I still enjoy kindness. But I also watch what people do, not only what they say."

Ahmad and the Generous Supplier

Ahmad is twenty-six and has recently finished his apprenticeship as an electrician. He works for a small company that installs electrical systems in new houses. One of his tasks is to order supplies, such as cables, switches and fittings, from various suppliers. A sales representative from one supplier has become very friendly with him. He calls Ahmad by his first name, asks about his family and recently offered him two tickets to a big football match, "just as a thank you for being such a good customer".

Ahmad was delighted at first. He loves football, and the tickets were expensive. But something made him hesitate. He noticed that the representative had mentioned, in the same conversation, that his company had a new range of fittings that were "perfect for your next big project". Ahmad also knew that the fittings from this supplier were more expensive than those from others, and not obviously better.

Ahmad recognized some of the pieces of a trap: generosity that came just before a request, friendliness that seemed linked to a business interest and a gift large enough to create a feeling of obligation. He did not know for certain what the representative intended. But he could see that accepting the tickets might make it harder for him to choose suppliers fairly in future, and might put his own reputation, and his company's, at risk.

Ahmad thanked the representative warmly and said that he could not accept the tickets, but that he appreciated the thought. He then asked his manager whether the company had a rule about gifts from suppliers. The manager said that it did, and that Ahmad had done exactly the right thing. Many workplaces have such rules, and it is wise to know what they are. If you are ever unsure, the safest course is to ask before accepting.

Ahmad continued to order from the supplier when its products were the best choice, and from others when they were not. The representative remained friendly, but the gifts stopped. "I almost walked into it," Ahmad says. "Not because he was a bad person, maybe. But because a gift like that changes how you think, even if you do not want it to. Seeing that clearly was the fox part. Saying no politely was the lion part."

Gwen and the Helpful Newcomer

Gwen is sixty-three and coordinates the volunteers at a charity shop that raises money for a local hospice. She has run the shop for eight years, with a team of about twenty volunteers, most of them retired. Last spring, a new volunteer named Clive joined. He was energetic, full of ideas and very complimentary about Gwen's work. Within weeks, he had volunteered for several extra shifts and offered to help with the shop's accounts.

At first, Gwen was grateful. But gradually, she noticed a pattern. Clive began making changes without asking her: moving displays, changing prices, telling other volunteers how to do things. When she raised this, he praised her lavishly and said he was only trying to help her, because she had so much to do. Some of the longer-serving volunteers began to come to Gwen privately, upset that Clive was criticizing their work. One of them said that Clive had told her Gwen was "getting tired" and might be "ready to step back".

Gwen realized that Clive's compliments had been covering a quiet attempt to take control of the shop. She did not think he was a bad man, necessarily. He might genuinely believe he could run things better. But his methods, flattery to her face and undermining behind her back, were a trap for her and for the team.

Gwen used the lion's courage. She asked Clive to meet with her and explained clearly how decisions were made in the shop: changes to displays and prices were discussed at the monthly volunteers' meeting, and the accounts were handled by the charity's treasurer, not by volunteers. She thanked him for his energy and invited him to bring his ideas to the next meeting, where everyone could discuss them. She also spoke with the volunteers who had been upset, reassuring them and making clear that she was not stepping back.

At the next meeting, Clive presented several ideas. Some were good, and the team adopted them. Others were not, and the team decided against them. Clive was disappointed but accepted the decisions. Over time, he became a useful member of the team, working within the shared rules rather than around them. Gwen says that the experience taught her that standing firm and staying kind are not opposites. "I did not need to push him out," she says. "I just needed to make the rules clear, and to stop his flattery from blinding me to what he was doing."

Paulo and the Promise of Future Work

Paulo is forty-one and works for himself as a translator. A new client, a company that organizes international trade fairs, contacted him with a large and urgent project: translating a catalogue of several hundred pages. The client was enthusiastic and flattering. They said they had heard he was the best translator in his languages, and that if this project went well, they would give him all their work in future. But they asked him to accept a much lower rate than usual for this first project, as a "trial", and to start immediately, without a written agreement, because there was no time.

Paulo felt the pull of the offer. The promise of steady future work was attractive, and the flattery was pleasant. But he recognized several pieces of a trap: urgency that prevented careful thought, a vague promise of future rewards in exchange for a definite sacrifice now and a reluctance to put anything in writing.

Paulo responded as a fox and a lion. He thanked the client for their interest and said that he would be glad to work with them. But he explained, calmly, that he always worked with a short written agreement, which he could send that same day, and that his rate for urgent work of this size was his usual rate. He offered a small discount for future projects if they did decide to work with him regularly. He said he could start as soon as the agreement was signed.

The client hesitated, then said they would think about it. They did not reply. A few months later, Paulo heard from another translator that the same company had done the same thing to her: a large urgent project at a low "trial" rate, a promise of future work and, in the end, no future work and a long delay in payment. Paulo was glad he had seen the trap.

It is worth adding that many generous offers are genuine, and many clients who promise future work mean it. A fox who saw traps everywhere would miss real opportunities. The point is not to refuse every offer, but to protect yourself with simple, honest measures, such as written agreements, fair terms and time to think, which a genuine partner will usually accept without difficulty. If you are ever unsure about your rights in an agreement, it is wise to seek advice from a qualified source.

Practical Steps: The Honest Fox and the Steady Lion

The first step is to enjoy kindness while watching actions. You do not need to become suspicious of everyone. Most kindness is sincere. But keep your eyes open. Notice whether a person's actions match their words over time, and whether their kindness seems connected to requests that benefit them at your expense.

The second step is to recognize the common pieces of a trap: flattery before requests, favours that grow step by step, urgency, secrecy, moving credit, stories behind your back, vague promises and guilt. When several appear together, slow down and look carefully.

The third step is to protect yourself with simple, honest measures. Write things down. Confirm agreements and contributions in writing. Take time before agreeing to requests. Know your workplace's rules, such as those about gifts. These measures are not unfriendly. They are the normal habits of a careful professional.

The fourth step is to stand firm calmly. When you need to say no, say it clearly and repeat it if necessary, as Lerato did. When you need to set a limit, explain it without anger, as Gwen did. The lion's strength is not in roaring but in not moving.

The fifth step is to speak directly rather than fight indirectly. If someone is telling stories about you or taking credit for your work, speak to them directly and, if needed, to the person who makes decisions, with facts and without attacking. Do not answer hidden stories with hidden stories of your own.

The sixth step is to seek support when the trap becomes bullying or harassment. If someone at work repeatedly undermines, threatens or humiliates you, keep a written record of what happens, with dates, speak to someone you trust and use the proper channels to report it, such as the person responsible for staff matters or a workers' representative. This is not weakness. It is the lion's courage applied wisely.

Seeing Traps Is Not Setting Them

The fox in Machiavelli's image has two possible uses. It can see traps, and it can set them. Machiavelli wanted rulers to do both. This book asks you to do only the first. The difference is the difference between protecting yourself and harming others.

There is a temptation, once you learn to recognize manipulation, to use it yourself. You may think, "If others are playing this game, I should play it too, and better." But this path leads to a working life full of suspicion, conflict and loneliness, in which nobody can trust you and you can trust nobody. It also tends to fail in the long run, as Dorian's story suggests. People who touch what you really are, day after day, eventually see the traps you set.

It is also important not to become so focused on traps that you stop trusting anyone. Most colleagues are not manipulators. Most compliments are sincere. Most favours are asked in good faith. A fox who sees a trap in every bush will never enjoy the forest. The aim is a balance: open, warm and trusting, with eyes that notice when something seems wrong, and a spine that stays straight when pressure comes.

A Short Exercise: Looking Back at a Trap

This exercise helps you learn to recognize traps by looking at one from your own past. It takes about fifteen minutes.

Think of a time in your working life, or elsewhere, when you felt afterwards that you had been led into something unfair: doing more than your share, losing credit, agreeing to something you regretted or being made to look bad. Describe it briefly on a page.

Now look for the pieces of the trap. Was there flattery before requests? Favours that grew step by step? Urgency? Secrecy? Moving credit? Stories behind your back? Vague promises? Guilt? Underline each piece you can find. You may find that several appeared together.

Next, write what the fox could have seen, and when. At what point might you have noticed that something was not right? Then write what the lion could have done. What simple, honest action, such as saying no, writing something down or speaking directly, might have protected you?

Finally, write one sentence about what you will watch for in future, and one sentence about how you will stay open and kind at the same time. Lerato did this exercise after the situation with Dorian. Her sentence about the future was: "When compliments always come just before requests, I will slow down and look." Her sentence about staying open was: "I will still bring coffee to new colleagues. I will just keep my spreadsheet's history."

Chapter Summary

In chapter 18 of The Prince, Machiavelli wrote that a ruler must know how to be both a fox, to recognize traps, and a lion, to frighten off wolves. He went on to advise rulers to break their word when it suited them and to deceive skilfully; this book rejects that advice as wrong and, in ordinary working life, self-defeating. The honest half of his image remains useful: become the fox who sees the trap, not the one who sets it, and the lion who stands firm, not the one who attacks.

Lerato and her charming colleague, Ahmad and the generous supplier, Gwen and the helpful newcomer and Paulo and the promise of future work all learned to recognize the common pieces of traps, such as flattery before requests, growing favours, urgency, secrecy and vague promises, and to protect themselves with simple, honest measures. Seeing traps is not becoming suspicious of everyone. It is keeping open eyes and a steady spine.

In the next chapter, we will turn to another famous question from The Prince: whether it is better to be loved or feared, and what this means for ordinary people who lead others.