Why do horrid people prosper? From Washington to Hollywood, it’s hard to understand why nasty people succeed.

As a young businessman, I often wondered why anyone would hire a “difficult” lawyer. You know, one of those men or women with a reputation for being a bulldog or worse. That’s not how I roll, and it puzzled me when genial people would deliberately hire someone like that to represent them.

As a grizzled old entrepreneur, I no longer wonder. Experience teaches some painful lessons and I’ve learned that some situations require attitude and anger and an appropriate amount of aggressiveness. Since that’s not how I roll, I’ve learned that kind of tough representation is helpful in some situations. Mean-spirited adversaries don’t much respect a gentler approach.

Churchill famously faced this exact dilemma in the early days of his administration (The Darkest Hour, 2018). Both parties in Parliament argued for a peaceful diplomatic outreach to Adolph Hitler, who was destroying much of Europe; Churchill rightly recognized that Hitler wouldn’t respect that process or any negotiated agreements.

I absolutely prefer friendly people. In my work, neighborhood, family, and acquaintances, I like people who are warm, polite, and respectful. In fact, I’ve gratefully reached a stage in my life where I can ignore or reject many difficult people.

You know the type, too much drama or anger or angst. Needy people who turn minutes into hours or suck the very kindness from my soul. Folks who hijack every conversation and transform it into a monologue about them, or their kids, or their political musings.

Annoying as that is, we sometimes grin post-episode because they never asked about, well, us, or our kids, or our politics. It’s a benign form of Narcissism so common today it is almost as appallingly amusing as those fashion photos from Walmart or contrived political debates on talk radio or television.

As I said, I prefer nice people. Still, our daily lives intersect with a diverse crowd. Some are pleasant, some are difficult, some are just too pre-occupied or busy to be warm and friendly. Certain professionals, medical doctors included, are sometimes deliberately distant or cool. These aren’t bad people, just people from a variety of backgrounds, personalities, training, and professions.

Of course, some folks are just plain mean. They have issues. They lack empathy and social skills. They never learned or have forgotten how to treat others.

Surprisingly, though, it’s dangerous to measure anyone by their outside manner alone. Personality can be a terrible gage of ability. Some remarkably brilliant people play or played badly with others. Steve Jobs comes to mind, but history is full of brilliant scoundrels in the worlds of business (Thomas Edison), literature (Charles Dickens), music (Phil Specter), and politics (Richard Nixon). Misbehavior is almost a requisite for some; terms like prima donna or diva or rock ‘n roll bad boy immediately identify familiar traits.

Nothing excuses bad behavior, but these examples don’t necessarily indict it, either. One of my all-time favorite movies is Robert Duvall’s The Apostle (1997) which earned him an Academy Award nomination. His character, Sonny Dewey, is a preacher who murders his wife’s lover with a baseball bat. No spoilers here, but let’s just say that sometimes bad people still accomplish amazing things. That powerful recurring theme is a tenet of most mainstream religions.

Would you rather have a bad surgeon with a good bedside manner or a good surgeon with a bad manner? Do you only cheer for nice guys on the baseball field? Are your favorite writers also benevolent community leaders? How about entertainers? I have a few favorites who make me cringe every time they spout politics.

Today, our paradox is similar. The world might be more pleasant if everyone were nice. Maybe that’s something of an aspiration, an inspirational target to shoot for. But everyone isn’t nice and, really, that’s okay. There are 8 billion people on this globe and they come in many shapes and sizes and many different temperaments.

That diversity is good for us. In most cases, our consequence is mainly annoyance or inconvenience or emotional discomfort. It’s not life-threatening or injurious at all … and sometimes it’s both healthy and productive. The bottom line is this: it often pays to have other temperaments in the room, even when they aren’t pleasant.