Beyond Blame
We’re wired to explain human behaviour in binaries. Good or bad. Guilty or innocent. Abuser or victim. It’s simpler that way. Emotionally satisfying. It lets us name a cause and move on. But when you work closely with people in crisis, when you really sit with their lives, not just their mistakes, those neat categories start to fall apart.
People do terrible things. That is true. But I have never met someone whose behaviour, no matter how destructive, wasn’t an adaptation to pain, disconnection, or unmet need. When we see cruelty, addiction, control, narcissism, or betrayal, we’re often seeing a defence, not an authentic core self. The person and the pattern are not the same.
This doesn’t mean there are no consequences, nor does it mean we should excuse harm or avoid responsibility. But it does open up space to consider the idea that punishment does not lead to healing, and shame is not an effective form of accountability. In fact, shame often reinforces the very behaviour we claim to condemn.
Shame says, “You are the problem.” Healing asks, “What happened, and what did you need that you never got?”
Much of what we label as “bad” is a story that began years earlier, often in environments where emotional survival required strategies that later became self-destructive. The controlling partner was once the child who felt powerless. The addict was the one who wasn’t allowed to feel. The manipulative CEO was the kid who only got attention for winning. These patterns don’t excuse behaviour, but they can help us understand it from a position of empathy and connection. And then, when we understand the story behind the symptom, something shifts in how we relate to that person. With that relation, those defences can soften, the shame can ease and suddenly there is space for real change in that person’s life.
In my work, I’ve learned that most people are far more afraid of being unloveable than they are of being wrong. We are all terrified that if someone really sees us, with all our contradictions, confusions, neediness, and disappointments, we would be discarded. So we hide behind control, image, performance, or (in some cases) aggression. We all have parts of our real self that we are terrified makes us truly unloveable, and we play various roles to hide those parts of ourselves.
If we want people to change, we need to stop asking, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ and start asking, ‘Where did it hurt?’ This holds true in families, in leadership, in therapy and most of all, in our relationship with ourselves. The way we treat ourselves sets the tone for how we treat others: unprocessed pain inside can too easily turn into harm outside.
And so, here’s the uncomfortable truth: every one of us is capable of causing harm, and every one of us is capable of repair. But that repair only becomes possible when we let go of the idea that badness is a fixed identity, and instead see it as a temporary state born from pain with nowhere else to go.
There is no such thing as a bad person. There are people who are lost. People who are scared. People who have hurt others because they were hurting and didn’t know how to ask for help. And yes, there are people who have never once been taught what love feels like when it is safe, consistent, and unconditional.
We cannot become whole if we keep dividing the world into good and bad, worthy and unworthy. The real work is much harder. It is seeing what’s human underneath what’s harmful, and responding to that with compassion, honesty, and intergrity.
If that feels hard, it’s because it is. But it’s also where transformation begins.
Are you saying people shouldn’t be held accountable for harmful behavior?
Not at all. Accountability is essential. But accountability that is rooted in shame or punishment usually leads to more hiding, more defensiveness, and more disconnection. Real accountability requires safety, reflection, and the willingness to look at what drove the behaviour in the first place. When people feel like their humanity is still intact (even when they’ve made serious mistakes) they are far more likely to engage in meaningful change.
But what about people who never change, or who seem to keep hurting others?
There are patterns that are deeply entrenched, and some people have spent decades reinforcing behaviours that protect them from vulnerability. Change is possible, but it requires insight, willingness, and often a safe relational space that many people have never experienced. That said, recognising that someone’s behaviour comes from pain does not mean we stay in harmful situations. Compassion and boundaries can exist at the same time.
Is this approach just another way of being “soft” on bad behavior?
No. If anything, this approach asks more of us. It requires that we stay curious in the face of discomfort, that we see beyond the surface, and that we examine our own capacity for harm and healing as well. This is not about avoiding hard truths. It’s about making space for the deeper ones. Understanding is not the opposite of strength. It is the foundation of it.
How does this idea apply to high-functioning individuals, people who seem successful but still cause harm in more subtle ways?
Many of the most complex forms of harm do not look like violence or abuse. They look like control, emotional distance, manipulation, or silence. These behaviors often show up in high-achieving individuals who have been rewarded for keeping it together, for being impressive, or for suppressing their emotional worlds. In many cases, the harm comes not from cruelty, but from dissociation i.e., from being so out of touch with their own pain that they cannot see how it affects others.
How can I begin to repair if I’ve hurt someone, or if I’ve been carrying shame for things I did when I didn’t know better?
Start by facing the truth without collapsing into self-blame. Shame will try to convince you that you are unworthy of repair, but it is usually the part of us that wants most to be seen. Reflect on the impact of your actions, take responsibility, and if possible, name it to the person you hurt without defensiveness or explanation. And if the harm was done to you, begin by offering yourself the compassion you never received. In both directions, healing begins when we stop defining ourselves by what went wrong and start asking what is still possible from here.