Tell your story!

Let’s take a little trip back in time. Our ancient ancestors lived in groups and relied on each other to survive. Getting kicked out of the group or being the odd one out? That was dangerous. So, fitting in and avoiding conflict was pretty much wired into our system. This wasn’t about being weak or not standing up for oneself; it was about survival.

Fast forward to today and, while we’re not fending off wild animals or hunting for our next meal, our brains are still wired in a similar way. Deep down, we’re cautious because we want to belong. We fear isolation, judgement and conflict. That’s why the thought of negative consequences from expressing an unpopular opinion can lead to that all-too-familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Self-preservation mode

As children, our school environment is usually our first experience of society outside of the family unit. It’s where we first grapple with hierarchy outside of the home: the popular kids, the bullies, the quiet ones, and so on. It’s the universe of first friendships, first betrayals and the first tastes of group dynamics. School is where I first got to truly understand the unpredictable nature of human interactions. One day you’re in, the next you’re out. The ‘rules’ are ever-changing and often unwritten. Breaking them, even unknowingly, can lead to harsh consequences. Sound familiar?

In situations like this, especially in an environment like school, your brain tries to make sense of things and often goes into self-preservation mode. You start tiptoeing around your friends and stifling your authentic self to avoid further rejection. The irony here is that you’re essentially self-censoring in an environment where you’re supposed to be learning and growing.

School matters!

We don’t tend to make the connection easily, but school experiences create foundational patterns in our lives. They teach us about trust, loyalty and the fine line between fitting in and standing out. Many of us carry the echoes of these lessons into adulthood, affecting how we navigate our professional and personal spaces. And while the cafeteria tables and school uniforms may be long behind you, the primal feelings they evoked — the need for acceptance, the fear of rejection — still linger.

These memories serve as vivid reminders that our reactions to fear, conformity and self-censorship aren’t just about biology or ancient evolutionary instincts. They’re deeply personal, moulded by experiences that struck a chord when we were young and impressionable.

And it’s not just about the playground; your early family life has a big part in it too. Go back to your formative years and think about how things were at home when you were growing up. Did your family talk openly about everything or was it more about not rocking the boat?

Mine, as much as I love them, were more of the latter. These early experiences teach you when to speak, when to hold back and, sometimes, when to hide your true thoughts and feelings. You learn early on whether it’s okay to share your inner world or if it’s better to just keep things to yourself. Understanding these early life lessons is important for figuring out why you self-censor and how you can start being more open about how you actually see and experience the world around you.

Brain talk: What’s happening up there?

When faced with potential conflict or backlash, our brain’s alarm system — the amygdala — goes off. It’s like an internal alert, telling us, ‘Hey, this might be risky!’ It goes beyond physical threats. Social threats, like feeling rejected or misunderstood, can spark similar reactions.

In situations where we fear judgement, backlash or physical harm, our brain releases stress hormones, like cortisol. Ever felt your heart race, your palms get sweaty or your stomach tighten when you’re about to say something controversial? Yep, that’s your body responding to that internal alert.

On the flip side, when we choose to self-censor and avoid potential conflict, it might feel like a relief. That’s because our brain rewards us with feel-good chemicals, like dopamine, when we avoid those perceived threats. But here’s the twist.

While our biological instincts push us to avoid conflict and fit in, we also have another part of our brain — the prefrontal cortex — that deals with reasoning, decision-making and social interactions. It helps us weigh the pros and cons and decide if speaking up is worth the potential backlash. This is where our capacity for discernment-led social filtering comes in.

Self-censoring or a social filter?

What is self-censorship, and why should you care? Well, it’s not a term that we think about when we’re getting on with our day, when we’re having conversations with our friends or when we’re wondering what that feeling of anxiety is in our chest, but you’ve probably practised it more times than you can count. I’m no exception to this.

At its core, self-censorship is the act of holding back your honest thoughts and feelings because you are anticipating something bad happening as a result. Think of it as that voice inside your head cautioning, ‘Better not say that.’ It’s the decision your ‘inner protector’ makes to not voice a thought, not because it’s wrong or baseless, but because expressing it might lead to a blowback or misrepresentation. It’s that second guessing, that internal tug of war between speaking out and staying silent.

How often have you tamed your thoughts and diluted your opinions? Have you found yourself hesitating before discussing a musician who’s suddenly not the darling of the public anymore? I know I have. When you come across a heated debate on social media about a previously adored author who’s now facing waves of online criticism, do you feel the pull to join in or does caution keep you scrolling past? Do you find yourself wondering if you are a ‘bad person’ because you maybe agree with the view everyone is pushing back against? And when you think of sharing an opinion or simply asking a question on touchy subjects like immigration, LGBTQ+ rights or choices in parenting, do you often pause, weighing the worth of your voice against the potential fallout? And when is that pausing or silence simply a practice in discernment?

Blurred lines in the digital age

External censorship would be like the religious authorities in Renaissance Europe explicitly telling writers what they could or could not write. Meanwhile, self-censorship is more akin to historians in ancient China choosing on their own to leave out certain events. In today’s digital age, the lines can blur. The threat of being ripped to shreds for speaking your mind might push you to silence yourself even if there’s no direct authority dictating the silence.

On the flip side, some of us just blurt out whatever’s on our mind without thinking, without considering how it might come across. In trying to be bold or honest, we might end up causing more problems, rubbing people the wrong way or stirring the pot without meaning to. Sometimes, we get so caught up in being honest that it can backfire. Like when you quickly post something bold on social media and then get a bunch of angry replies. Or when, in the interest of being direct, you shoot down a co-worker’s idea too fast, thinking you’re just getting to the point. Or when you’re so passionate about something at dinner, only to realise that you’ve silenced the whole table and nobody else got a word in. Being direct is great — we want more of that – but if we’re not more careful and understanding, what we’re trying to say can get muddled and come out all wrong.

My clients tend to be people who fit both descriptions, and I always tell them that both extremes — holding back out of fear and speaking impulsively without filtering — show just how tricky it can be to express ourselves. For years now I’ve been wondering what the solution is to this collective problem. Perhaps you’ve been wondering about this too. I don’t for a second believe that I have the one answer that will put the world to rights, but I do think there is more within our control than we realise.

Saying everything and saying nothing are not your only options, even if our binary-loving brain would rather have us believe we only ever have two choices. You have a host of thoughts, opinions, jokes and stories at your disposal. How you choose to share these thoughts, and which ones you decide to keep to yourself, essentially showcases the difference between self-censorship and using a social filter — a brilliant thinking skill that allows you to ‘read the room’.

Sorting your wardrobe

Your social filter is the brain filter there to remind you that telling your lovely eccentric aunt that her new pixie haircut looks a bit Boris Johnson-ish is not the wisest or kindest idea.

I like to think of using a social filter as being like sorting through your wardrobe to pick the right outfit for a specific occasion. You’re making conscious decisions about what to say, considering the social setting, the people around you and the potential impact of your words. You might skip telling a particularly crude joke because you’re aware it could offend someone present, but you may be able to tell that exact same joke with a couple of friends because you know that it’ll land in the way you want it to. That’s not you being afraid, that’s you being considerate. You’re adapting your communication to suit the setting. This is discernment-led behaviour, rooted in understanding and empathy.

As someone who loves a crude joke every now and again, believe me, there really is a time and a place. On the other hand, self-censorship is less like picking an outfit and more like not going to the party at all because you’re afraid your clothes won’t be good enough. It’s fear-driven. You might have an opinion or a story you’d like to share, but you keep quiet because you’re afraid of the potential backlash or ridicule. You’re worried about how others may perceive you, or how their perception might affect your social standing, job security or legal standing in extreme cases. This self-censorship can leave you feeling suppressed, unheard or unseen.

So, the next time you find yourself deciding whether to speak or stay silent, consider if you’re choosing the right outfit for the party, or if you’re too scared to attend the party at all.

(Excerpted with permission from The Third Perspective, Africa Brooke, Hodder & Stoughton /Hachette India. The author is a Zimbabwean-born, internationally acclaimed consultant, accredited coach, speaker and podcaster.)