Rule #13

George Washington’s thirteenth rule of civility reads:

Kill no vermin… in the sight of others… if upon the clothes of your companions, put it off privately… and if upon your own clothes, return thanks…”

I don’t know about you, but this is the first rule that made me physically recoil.

Not metaphorically.

Not philosophically.

Viscerally.

We’ve moved from posture and presence, straight into fleas and lice. Ew.

But it raises an important question: What exactly was happening in these rooms?

Once we get past the imagery, and perhaps take a small emotional step back, something surprisingly thoughtful emerges. Because this rule isn’t really about bugs. It’s about dignity.

The Modern “Vermin” We Expose

Of course, in our world today, the “vermin” Washington was referring to isn’t actually fleas or lice.

It’s something far less visible, and often far more damaging.

It’s someone’s secrets. Their shortcoming. Their quirks. Their habits. Their mistakes. Their private struggles.

The things that don’t belong on display.

And yet, we seem endlessly fascinated by them.

We want to know everything about everyone, especially the parts that are messy, complicated, and unflattering. Especially the parts that give us something to talk about, react to, or quietly feel superior to.

And then, once we know… we judge.

Sometimes quickly.

Sometimes publicly.

Sometimes permanently.

We live in a culture that is both deeply curious and deeply unforgiving.

We ask for transparency, but we respond with punishment.

We say we value honesty, but we struggle to hold space for imperfection.

Which raises a question this rule quietly asks: Why do we need to know?

Is it really our business if our boss has a drinking problem - if they show up, do their job, and treat people with respect?

Is it really our place to dissect Carol’s love for cosplay and LARPing (LARP is Live Action Role Playing)- something that, until someone pointed it out, affected no one?

Is it any concern of ours if Taylor is gay, when we only see them sporadically at the dog park?

Why are we so quick to take something small, private, personal… and bring it into the light?

And more importantly: What do we do with that information once we have it?

Because Rule #13 isn’t just about what we notice. It’s about what we choose to do with what we notice. 

And in many cases, the most respectful, most human response is this: Nothing.

Not Everything Needs to be Public

At its core, Rule #13 is teaching a very specific kind of awareness.

Just because you notice, or know, something, doesn’t mean you need to announce it. Especially when what you’ve noticed, or know, could embarrass someone else.

Think about how this shows up today:

• pointing out someone’s mistake in front of others

• correcting someone publicly instead of privately

• calling attention to something awkward of vulnerable

• making a joke at someone else’s expense

• exposing something that didn’t need to be exposed

We often justify this as honesty, transparency, or just being “real”.

But there’s a difference between truth and unnecessary exposure.

Discretion Is a Form of Kindness

Washington’s instruction is subtle but powerful. If something uncomfortable needs to be handled, handle it quietly.

Don’t make a scene. Don’t draw attention. Don’t create embarrassment. Just… take care of it.

There’s a kind of grace in that. 

A quiet kindness that says, I see this, and I will protect you from it becoming bigger than it needs to be.

And When It’s You? Receive It Well

The second half of the rule might be even more important, return thanks to him who puts it off.

In other words, if someone helps you quietly, don’t turn it into a moment.

Don’t get defensive. Don’t feel attacked. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t reject the help. Just receive it.

With grace.

With gratitude.

Because dignity is not only something we give. It’s something we allow others to give to us.

The Modern Struggle: We Expose Ourselves, Too

There’s another layer to this rule that feels just as relevant, and a little closer to home.

Because it’s not only that we expose others more easily now.

We expose ourselves.

We live in a world where sharing has become second nature: our thoughts, our struggles, our relationships, our mistakes, our pain.

All of it, often, just a few taps away from being seen by dozens, hundreds, sometimes thousands of people.

And while there is something powerful about honesty and vulnerability, something deeply human about saying, “This is me, as I am” - there’s also a quiet risk we don’t talk about enough.

Not everything we experience needs to be witnessed in real time.

Not every feeling needs an audience.

Not every struggle benefits from immediate exposure.

Sometimes, in our desire to be seen, we offer parts of ourselves to spaces that aren’t equipped to hold them with care.

And once something is shared publicly… it no longer belongs only to us.

It can be misunderstood. 

Judged.

Reduced.

Consumed.

Rule #13, read through a modern lens, gently asks us to consider not only how we handle others’ dignity, but our own.

To ask, is this something that needs to be shared? Or is this something that deserves to be held a little more privately, a little more gently, a little more safely?

Because discretion isn’t just about protecting others from unnecessary exposure. Sometimes it’s about protecting ourselves.

This Is the Next Layer of Presence

If we follow the thread from the previous rules,

• Rule #10 was to be present in your own body

• Rule #11 was to be settled in yourself

• Rule #12 was to be thoughtful in how you speak

And Rule #13 adds: Be careful with what you reveal about others.

Because once you are present, and participating, you carry a new responsibility: to protect the space and the people in it.

A Quiet Closing Thought

There’s something deeply human in this rule.

Not perfect.

Not polished.

Not performative.

Just… considerate.

The kind of awareness that notices what doesn’t need to be said. What doesn’t need to be highlighted. What can be handled gently instead of publicly.

In a world that often rewards exposure, this rule reminds us of something softer: Dignity is often preserved in the things we choose not to bring into the light.

And sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is quietly remove the “vermin” without anyone else ever knowing it was there.

Ⓒ April 2026. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.