“Shame is not going to save us from a pandemic.”
These were the words of my friend, typed to me via Facebook chat in late April from her new home in Switzerland, where the coronavirus crisis was much further along than it was in the U.S. We were discussing an alarming trend in online behavior: the tendency to point and shame when others failed to heed the latest public health guidance.
And trust me, I get it. In fact, I’ve done it. I couldn’t help but fume a few weeks before, when I witnessed a group of neighbors huddled together on a front porch to escape a rain shower, households mixing barely a foot apart! Now, it’s July, and many of us have been applauding the recent #BlackLivesMatter protests, even as we recognize their potential for viral spread.
As we progress into the next era of our human relationship to the coronavirus and COVID-19, the disease it causes, there will be new demands on our behavior and no doubt new attempts to shame those who behave less than perfectly.
As I imagine how such patterns might play out in the coming months, I recall what I have long known: that shame is not only a poor way to change behavior, but it’s also actually counterproductive. For almost 10 years I have worked with the Illinois Caucus for Adolescent Health as a sex educator. There, I am a co-founder of the FYI Performance Company, which uses theater-based strategies to uniquely reduce shame in sexual education.
Lately, it has struck me how the conversation around masks resembles the way we might talk about something like condoms. In April, when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention changed its stance on face coverings, I was surprised how quickly people took this new recommendation to heart — and how quickly they turned on those who didn’t.
The truth is that while many of us recognize the importance of masks (and condoms) in keeping us safe, there are all kinds of reasons why people might prefer not to wear them. And logic alone has never been enough to change habits.
Copious psychology research tells us that even when we know what the logical choice is, we don’t always oblige, especially if our basic needs (comfort, connection, security) go unmet. So when we call people out for not behaving logically (for instance, refusing to stay home or wear a mask), we are swimming upstream, trying to overcome emotional inertia.
As Julia Marcus‘ recent article in The Atlantic on quarantine fatigue demonstrates, it’s time to think beyond shame and consider an approach known in health circles as “harm reduction.” The idea is that in sex or drug use, as in a pandemic, some activities are riskier than others. For instance, going for a walk outside is different from visiting a friend or throwing a house party.
Another core aspect of harm reduction — and a key piece of good sexuality education — is informed consent. While consent is often thought of in terms of permission, it’s more accurate to describe it as an ongoing process of exploration and negotiation. Good consent practices allow us to change our minds; they require active consideration of risk and making conscious choices that work for our individual circumstances. Even President Donald Trump and other mask-resisters are now supporting the guidance to wear one.
When we shame, we discount people’s ability to make informed choices. Research has consistently shown that such messaging — the “abstinence-only” cadence of “just wear a mask” or “stay home” — can actually lead to less-safe behavior because it occludes a very real set of lower-risk options. (It’s well documented that abstinence-only education doesn’t lead to less sex; it leads to less safe sex.)
For adults who are themselves afraid or confused about safer sex, it’s easier to say “just don’t do it.” Similarly, exhausted leaders might be tempted to double down on punitive measures, such as Mayor Lori Lightfoot, who at one point threatened to arrest anyone in violation of the stay-at-home order (a stark contrast from her earlier strategy of comedic PSAs).
As states are reopening — and in some cases shutting down again as cases surge — finding creative ways to reduce risk will be critical. Creativity allows people to expand their thinking, try on new possibilities and act without fear of judgment. From documents circulating on how to stay safe while protesting in a pandemic, to the vital mutual aid networks that have sprung up in cities across the nation, we’ve seen the ability of communities to invent their own working solutions.
These projects can feel personal, even pleasurable — like the look of pride on my friend’s face when she sports her favorite cat mask, sewn lovingly by a relative.
When someone speaks to us in a language we know, we are more willing to listen. A harm reduction framework infused with creative thinking allows us to meet evolving circumstances without shame, and to move forward in ways that acknowledge our humanity and allow our communities to thrive.
Jacob Watson is a theater artist, researcher and educator. His work explores how creative tools can unlock new ways of thinking and offer unique solutions to civic problems.
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