by Dale Carnegie
When my mum, a psychology lecturer, handed me Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, I initially thought it would be another dusty self-help book destined to gather cobwebs on my shelf. But as I delved into its pages, I found myself nodding along, laughing, and occasionally cringing at how relevant Carnegie’s advice was to my own life. From navigating the macho world of tango to mastering the art of small talk, this book has been a surprisingly practical companion.
The Smile That Saved Me (Mostly) from Creepy Tango Dancers
Carnegie’s advice to smile more struck a chord, though it also brought back memories of my early days in the tango world. I was a teenager on the tango scene in the UK, which to put it nicely, tends to be for the older clientele (this is changing though!). I was known as “the girl who doesn’t smile.” Tango is overwhelmingly macho, and I found that a neutral expression became my armour against unwanted attention. Looking back, I realise it was a survival tactic—a way to assert boundaries when I didn’t yet have the confidence to say no outright. These days, I’ve learned to smile more freely, but only when I choose to.
Carnegie was right: a smile is powerful, but it’s even better when paired with self-assurance.
Remembering Names (and Velvet Phobias)
One of Carnegie’s golden rules is remembering people’s names, and this is where I shine—perhaps a little too brightly. My family and friends often rely on me to recall the name of a restaurant we visited a decade ago or the obscure hometown of someone we met once. But there’s a fine line between being impressive and coming across as slightly unsettling. For instance, I once met a man at a dance event who mentioned he hated the feeling of velvet (I was wearing a velvet crop top that day). Two years later, we crossed paths again, and I casually joked, “Don’t worry, I’m not wearing velvet today.” His expression was a mix of awe and mild concern, as if he were wondering whether I had a secret dossier on him.
Lesson learned: remember the details, but play it cool. You don’t want people thinking you’re a stalker when you’re just blessed with a good memory.
The Art of Listening (and Not Thinking What You’ll Say Next)
Listening is something I’ve found more challenging as I’ve grown older. I used to pride myself on being a good listener, but these days, I often catch myself mentally planning what to say next instead of truly paying attention. Carnegie’s emphasis on being present in conversations reminded me how important it is to listen with intent.
I’m working on it— Progress, not perfection, right?
Avoiding Arguments (and the Temptation to Whip Out your Phone)
Carnegie’s advice to avoid arguments feels particularly relevant in today’s world, where access to information is just a smartphone swipe away. It’s too easy to fall into the trap of turning every discussion into a debate, armed with a arsenal of facts ready to be Googled at a moment’s notice. I’ve been guilty of this myself. Mid-conversation, someone disagrees with me, and before I know it, I’m pulling out my phone to “prove” I’m right. But what does that really achieve? Even if I “win” the argument, I’ve often lost the connection with the other person.
Carnegie’s reminder that arguments rarely change minds has made me rethink my approach. Now, I try to focus on understanding the other person’s perspective rather than winning the debate. After all, being right isn’t always as important as being kind.
Final Thoughts: A Book That’s Like a Good Dance Partner
How to Win Friends and Influence People isn’t just a book—it’s a guide to navigating the dance of human interaction. Carnegie’s principles have helped me smile more confidently, remember names (without creeping people out), and listen more intentionally. And while I’m still working on avoiding arguments, I’ve come a long way from the scowling teenager in the tango scene.
If you’re looking to improve your relationships, avoid awkward moments (or at least laugh at them), and maybe even influence someone to finally agree that pineapple does belong on pizza, this book is for you. It’s a timeless reminder that the art of connection is as much about understanding others as it is about understanding yourself.
One Too Many Books 