It is almost second nature to notice faults in others. We spend hours talking or thinking about people’s shortcomings. On social media, the loudest voices are often those exposing others’ mistakes. News panels thrive on dissecting failures of public figures. But does this endless exercise help? Not really.
For fault-finding to be meaningful, the concerned person must be open to hearing it, and in truth, hardly anyone enjoys being told about their flaws. Deep down, most of us already know our weaknesses. So the real question is: how can fault-finding become useful? The answer lies in turning our focus inward and upward, towards God. He knows our nature better than we do and can also give us the strength to change it. And we do need strength, because our nature is deeply ingrained. The Bhagavad Gita (15.7) reminds us that we are parts of God yet endowed with free will. Independence is precious to us, but misusing it binds us to repeated cycles of birth and death. Wrong choices solidify into habits and eventually define our character.
Alcohol addiction, for example, often starts with imitation and ends in dependency. Are we permanently stuck? No, provided we heed Lord Krishna’s advice to give up the habit of fault-finding (Gita 3.31). Those who rise above it receive divine favour. Arjuna, for instance, was entrusted with “the most secret knowledge” precisely because he was free from fault-finding. By contrast, those who ignore this instruction and dwell in criticism are described as “bereft of wisdom” (3.32). Recognising this, I decided to turn the mirror on myself. Instead of spotting others’ faults, I began identifying my own and even asked those close to me to point them out. People are surprisingly eager to do so! To my delight, I found that fault-finding can be useful if applied to oneself.
Like troubleshooting a machine, examining personal faults allows me to locate root causes and seek solutions. I pray for guidance, and the results have been remarkable. Take lust, for example. It may appear harmless, but it unchains the mind, leading to anxiety and restlessness. Krishna warns that lust is stronger than intelligence and must be conquered (3.43). Remembering the downfall of Jayadratha in the Mahabharata reminds me how destructive it can be. Another fault, greed, is equally pervasive.
Yet the Gita (9.22) assures that God provides for those who take shelter in Him, reducing the need to grasp endlessly. Dealing with people “below” us posed another challenge. Krishna advises not to criticise but to encourage them and lead by example (3.26). When I began appreciating instead of condemning, my relationships improved. The same approach worked with my loved ones — praise and modelling good behaviour proved more effective than criticism. Hate and anger were also on my list. Krishna cautions that haters are degraded to lower states of existence (16.19).
The fate of Ashwatthama and the destruction of Duryodhana’s clan illustrate the dangers of harbouring enmity. Likewise, the example of Durvasa Muni, who squandered his spiritual merit through uncontrolled anger, inspires me to cool down quickly. Fault-finding is powerful when directed inward. By identifying and confronting our weaknesses with humility and divine help, we transform criticism into a path of growth.
