A Misunderstanding at a Pub in Primrose Hill: Seeing Ourselves as Others See Us

Edward Le Bas, Dinner at the Garrick

One afternoon at the turn of the year I was with my old college friends at a pub in Primrose Hill. 

We agreed that it would be good to order food, and so as to accelerate the process, I fetched and distributed some menus. I also took out my Bic biro and a scrap of paper to note down what everyone wanted. 

‘That’s two chicken and mushroom pies, three fish and chips, a salad, some prawns and a bowl of nachos.’

As my friends can be an unruly bunch, I stood up to sustain their concentration.

‘Would you like chips or mash with the pies? Are the fish and chips people fine with mushy peas? Any condiments?’

At this point another group entered the pub, and a smartly dressed, attractive woman directed a beaming smile towards me.

Unaccustomed to such attention, at this or any age, I smiled back.  

And then she stepped forward and addressed me:

‘Do you have a table for five?’

I realised there had been a misunderstanding.

I thought she saw a charming man, and that perhaps there was a spark of electricity between us. 

She thought she saw a member of the waiting staff.

'O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
An’ foolish notion:
What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us,
An’ ev’n devotion!’
Robert Burns, ‘To a Louse'

I wonder whether we all pass through life suffering similar delusions. 

We imagine ourselves starring in our own movies - whether as romantic heroes or tragic antiheroes. Our partners, friends and family supply the supporting cast. The general public take on the roles of extras. 

And then occasionally we are roused from our fantasy and confronted with the brutal reality. Things are not quite as they seem.

I’m sure this is true in the world of work too. Most of us have a sense of self – of our strengths and weaknesses; of our value and worth - that is inconsistent in certain respects with the broader view. Sometimes we overestimate our contribution. We imagine ourselves vital to the account, crucial to the team, critical to the company. Sometimes we underestimate the part we play - the qualities we take for granted are in fact highly prized by our colleagues.

It’s always worthwhile reaching out to others to hear how we’re doing, to understand how we’re regarded - not just asking our superiors, but our teammates too, at every level. So that, albeit for a brief moment, we can see ourselves as others see us.

I ran the Strategy Department at BBH for some years. When Planners left our business for another job, I liked to conduct my own exit interview. It was an opportunity to hear why they were moving on when they were likely to be most frank. It was always illuminating. If they were interested, I’d offer counsel on how best to navigate their new role.

My final question was always the same: 

‘And what advice would you give me?’


'I would go out tonight,
But I haven't got a stitch to wear.
This man said, 'It's gruesome
That someone so handsome should care.'
This charming man.
This charming man.'
The Smiths, ’
This Charming Man’ (J Marr / S Morrissey)

No. 415