Knowing stuff is beneath them
"> It's a kind of snobbery. Knowing stuff is beneath them.
Ah, how I love this kind of people... A few times I managed to handle that was by saying "I do this ONE more time for you and I'll explain things, you better listen.". Some listened, others not. May not be possible in your professional role, though."
For some, it is *doing* stuff which is beneath them. An they will only learn if they are forced to.
All names have been retained to shame the guilty. Long ago, my parents rented a house to an arrogant stuck-up prick by the name of Ivan Head or as I thought of him, "the ASP". Head was a good buddy and ex-classmate of Pierre Trudeau. This was back when Pierre was the PM. The ASP had a habit of yanking on the damper control of the fireplace and pulling the damper (a heavy slab of mild steel) out of position. The slab is only held in position by gravity, so the fix is just to lift it up, align it and drop into place.
I should note that the ASP was bilingual, had 4 degrees, including an Ll.B. and Ph.D, and was a deputy minister rank in the civil service, and was President of the Canadian International Development Agency. He got his job through cronyism I am sure, because he was useless. Despite his education he professed to be unable to use a screwdriver or a hammer. One evening circa summer 1974, he was hosting a dinner party and Pierre Trudeau, his wife and other high eminences were to be guests.
I arrived home and had to have a "strong verbal discussion" with an RCMP officer, after driving past the not-yet-fully-in-place road block, at an "excessive" rate according to said officer, in order to be allowed to enter my parents home, which was next door to the ASP's. And then the ASP called my mother and demanded that I attend to fix the fireplace "which had broken again". This was the third time in 3 months. I attended and found the ASP, all done up in a tuxedo, black tie. He exhibited his usual brusque and demanding persona. But this time, I was pissed that he had refused to learn not to yank on the damper control. And I was pissed at having to have an altercation with a cop, in order to be able to park my car and walk into the house. I wasn't supposed to park in "this driveway".
So this time, I held the flashlight, and made him get down on his hands and knees and fix the 'damage' himself. He actually got *soot* on his hands and almost strained his back bending down to look up into the fireplace. Poor guy. Of course it only takes seconds to fix once you know how the damper is arranged.
The next day he bitched to my mother, about how I had insulted him *by actually making him fix the damper in *her* house*. My mother responded with words to the effect of "you didn't know how to do it, you broke it, and now you are complaining about being taught how to fix it by someone who knows how to do it?"
HE NEVER SPOKE TO ME AGAIN. It was so nice.