Word 3: Should
The third word is the most dangerous of all because it doesn't just reveal someone's intentions toward you; it reveals whether they see themselves as above you in the hierarchy. The word is should. "You should do this," "You should have known better," "You should consider," or "You should really think about..." Every time someone tells you what you should do, they're positioning themselves as your authority. They're claiming the right to tell you how to live, what to decide, and what to think. And here's the critical part: they're doing it without earning that authority. They're just assuming it.
Machiavelli wrote extensively about this in The Prince. One of his most important observations was that a prince must never allow his ministers or advisers to believe they have authority over his decisions. The moment they start telling him what he should do rather than presenting options for him to choose, they've stopped being advisers and started being usurpers. Should is a power move disguised as advice. When someone says, "You should," what they're really saying is, "I know better than you what's good for you, and you should submit to my judgment." That might be true. Maybe they do know better; maybe they have more experience, more wisdom, and more perspective. But if they were actually trying to help you, they wouldn't use should. They'd use could or might want to consider. "You could try this" offers a possibility; it respects your autonomy. "You should try this" issues a command; it assumes obedience. The difference is massive, and it reveals everything about how that person sees you and themselves.
Machiavelli observed that in Renaissance courts, the use of should was a political statement. When an advisor said to a prince, "You should make peace with Florence," or "You should raise taxes," they were testing the prince's authority. They were checking whether the prince would accept being directed or whether he would assert his own judgment. Weak princes accepted the should and did what they were told. Strong princes heard the should and either ignored it or corrected the advisor: "I will consider it," or "You may present your reasoning, but I will decide." The response to should determines the hierarchy. People who use should constantly are either trying to control you or they genuinely believe they're superior to you and therefore entitled to direct your behavior. Either way, it's disrespect.
Watch for should in relationships. When someone tells you what you should do, should feel, should want, or should think, they're not respecting you as an equal. They're treating you as subordinate, as someone who needs their guidance, and as someone who can't be trusted to make their own decisions. If you accept it—if you do what they say just because they said you should—you've confirmed their frame. You've agreed that they're above you in the hierarchy and that you need their approval to act. That's how should works: it's a test. It's checking whether you'll submit to their authority.
Now, here's how powerful men handle should. They don't use it downward unless they actually have authority. A father can tell his son, "You should," because the relationship grants that authority. A boss can tell an employee, "You should," because the structure grants that authority. But watch what happens when someone tries to should a man who hasn't granted them authority: they get shut down immediately.
Machiavelli documented this in his observations of Lorenzo de' Medici. When advisors tried to tell Lorenzo what he should do, he would respond by reminding them that their role was to inform, not command. "Present me with facts. Give me your counsel, but do not presume to direct me." When they countered with, "You should really reconsider this decision," he answered, "I'll consider what I want to consider." No submission, no acceptance of their frame—just a reminder that they don't have the authority they're claiming.
Here's the critical skill: when someone tries to should you, ask yourself, "Have I granted this person authority over my decisions? Am I subordinate to them in this context?" If the answer is no, their should is an attack. It's an attempt to claim power they don't have.
Your response options are straightforward. Option one: ignore it completely. Don't even acknowledge they tried to tell you what to do. This communicates that their opinion doesn't register as something you need to consider. Option two: reframe it. Say, "I appreciate your perspective," then do what you were going to do anyway. This acknowledges they spoke while making it clear their words had no impact on your decision. Option three: reject it directly. "I didn't ask for advice." This is nuclear; use it only when someone has repeatedly tried to claim authority they don't have and needs to be put in their place.
Machiavelli would recognize all three of these as prince-like responses—responses that maintain hierarchy, responses that remind the other person of their actual position relative to you. Most people never even notice how often they're being shoulded. They just feel vaguely controlled, vaguely disrespected, and vaguely like everyone around them thinks they're incompetent. That's because they are being controlled. People are constantly trying to position themselves above you using should, and if you don't recognize it and reject it, you've accepted subordinate status by default.
Once you start listening for should, you'll realize how often people do it. Friends, family, partners, co-workers—everyone is constantly trying to tell you what you should do, should think, and should feel. Most of them don't even realize they're doing it; they think they're being helpful. But the impulse to tell someone what they should do comes from the belief that you know better than they do. And that belief, whether conscious or not, is a claim to a superior position.
Now, here's how you flip this: notice who never uses should with you. Notice who offers possibilities instead of directives, and who respects your autonomy even when they disagree with your choices. Those are the people who see you as an equal. Those are the people whose advice you can actually trust because it's not wrapped in a power play. Everyone else? They're trying to manage you, control you, and position themselves above you. Now you know. The moment they say should, you know exactly what's happening and you can respond accordingly. Machiavelli built an entire political philosophy on this understanding: know who respects your authority and who seeks to undermine it, and you can navigate any court, any organization, or any relationship structure successfully. That's the third word, and now you have all three.