When someone shames you now

The rule covers what comes out of you. This chapter is about what comes at you, from a boss, a parent, a partner, or a stranger with a keyboard.

Start with the first few seconds. Someone says "honestly, you're hopeless" and the flush arrives, on schedule. You can't prevent it, because it's faster than thought. What you can do is name it, silently. "This is shame." It sounds like nothing. There's brain-imaging research showing that when people chose a word for the emotion in an upsetting picture, the brain regions that react to threat responded less than when they did other things with the same picture. Those people were naming what they saw in a picture, not their own feeling after an insult, so applying it here is my extension. My own view is that the naming does something simple. It turns "I am worthless" into "I am having the feeling called shame", and the second is a smaller problem.

Then sort the message, the way you did in chapter 3. Ask whether there's an event in it. "You're hopeless" might contain "you sent the client the wrong file". If there's an event, it's yours, and you can take it cleanly. The label you can leave on the table.

This gives you a strong way to respond, which is to agree with the event and ignore the rest. "You're right, I sent the wrong file. I'll send the correct one now and ring to explain." There's no defence in that, no counter-attack, and no acceptance of "hopeless" either. People who shame are often braced for one of the four exits from chapter 5. They expect you to crumple, grovel, laugh it off or hit back. A calm sentence about the facts gives them none of those.

If there's no event in it, or you can't tell, ask. "What did I do, exactly?" Ask it as a real question, because you do want the answer. Either you get information, which is useful, or it becomes clear to everyone, including the speaker, that there wasn't any.

When someone won't stop talking about what you are, you can say so. "I'm happy to talk about the mistake. I'm not going to discuss what kind of person I am." You may need to say it twice. After that, you can leave the room or end the call. Leaving in this way is different from the hiding exit. Hiding is driven by the belief that they're right. This is a decision not to stand there for it.

What you shouldn't do is shame back. It's tempting, and you probably know exactly where their bruises are. But it's the fourth exit, it hands the thing on, and it turns a conversation about one event into a contest over who's the worse person. Nobody wins those.

When it's a pattern and not a single remark, pick a calm moment and use the rule. "Last night at dinner you told everyone I can't be trusted with money. I felt humiliated in front of our friends. If you're worried about money, I want you to tell me at home, with the figures." Expect defensiveness. By describing their shaming you've probably set off their flush, and they've got the same four exits you have. Give it a day. Some people come back and surprise you.

Some don't. A parent in their seventies may never stop. A manager may be rewarded by their own bosses for exactly this behaviour. You can't repair another person's shame for them, and it isn't your job. What's left is managing your exposure.

With a parent, that might mean shorter visits, and leaving without a scene when it starts. "I'm going to go now. I'll ring you on Sunday." You don't have to explain each time. After a few repetitions most people work out the connection between the remarks and the empty chair. Some never do, and you've still spared yourself the afternoon.

With a manager, keep a written record of incidents in plain factual terms, with dates and the words used. Find out what your employer's process is, and talk to a union representative if you have one. In the end you may have to weigh whether the job is worth it. You're not being oversensitive if daily contempt wears you down. It wears everybody down.

If what's coming at you includes threats, control over your money or movements, or fear for your safety, go back to the note at the end of chapter 1. That needs more than a technique for replying.

Strangers online are a separate case. A sneering reply from someone you've never met sets off the same flush as a sneer across a table, because the flush can't tell the difference. Your options are better, though. You owe a stranger no conversation. Check for an event, since now and then a rude reply contains a fair correction, and take it if it's there. Then mute, block or close the app. Replying while your face is hot usually gives a crowd something to gather round.

One more thing, for afterwards. Once you've been shamed, the old voice will often pick up where the other person left off and carry on for hours. When it does, treat it like any other speaker. Ask it what happened, exactly, and deal with the event if there is one. Then tell someone you trust what was said to you, in the actual words. Chapter 12 explains why telling someone matters as much as it does.