3 Ways To Get Your Point Across And Avoid Shaming?Others

Legendary scriptwriting lecturer Robert McKee shamed me in front of 500 people. There are better ways to reorient behavior and get what you want.

Have you ever been publicly shamed? Is the circumstance so vivid in your mind; every time it replays, you grimace and feel the pain of the event over and over? I have. 

The following story is about a man in a position of power who used shameful tactics to get what he wanted. I discuss my emotional response followed by three ways to get your point across without resorting to shameful behavior. 

In 2010 I was hell-bent on becoming a film scriptwriter in the entertainment industry. I signed up for STORY with enthusiasm, a world-renowned three-day script-writing lecture created by Robert McKee, a famous author, university lecturer, and story consultant. 

To articulate McKee’s level of influence, Wikipedia describes how many writers and directors have taken STORY and gone on to win Academy Awards:

Robert McKee is among the most widely known screenwriting lecturers. McKee’s former students include over 65 Academy Award winners, 200 Emmy Award winners, 100 WGA (Writers Guild of America) Award winners and 50 DGA (Directors Guild of America) Award winners (all participated in McKee’s course before or after winning their award; not all were awarded for writing), the British Book of the Year Award and the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Writing. Some recent notable former students to win or be nominated for Oscars include Akiva Goldsman for his screenplay “A Beautiful Mind,” Peter Jackson (writer/director of “Lord of the Rings I, II and III”), Andrew Stanton (“Wall-E,” “Finding Nemo”) and Paul Haggis (“Million Dollar Baby,” “Quantum of Solace”).

The night before STORY, I flew from Toronto to New York City and settled into the Hotel Pennslyvania, 401 7th Avenue, the largest and most historic hotel of the 21st Century.

That night I hired a yellow taxi driver who took me on a tour of the major sites in Manhatten before I tried to fall asleep. I was too excited for what lied ahead, and slumber didn’t come easy. The following morning, I awoke a few minutes late and struggled to get myself together. After a shower and coffee, I mosied to the elevator and pushed the button for the ballroom. Halfway down, the elevator froze, and I became stuck for a few minutes. When I checked my iPhone for the time, I was late by one minute.

After what seemed an eternity, the elevator restarted, and I exited at the ballroom; the doors shut firm. The signage outside indicated I was in the right place; I glanced at my iPhone once again; it was five minutes after 9:00 AM. I cracked the heavy wooden door open with trepidation and tried to slip into the ample space brimming with seated people with as much discretion as possible — except I didn’t get the chance.

A man seated in a wheelchair on the platform above the audience at the far end of the ballroom instantly pointed at me and shouted into his mic: 

You back there! Class has already started and you are LATE. Not only are you wasting your time, their time, (points to crowd), above all else, you’re wasting MY TIME!

And this is how I met Robert McKee. His voice boomed into the massive room, causing over five hundred heads to swing in my direction. At that moment, I felt like an ant tramped on by an elephant. I prayed for the apocalypse to happen and for God to swoop me up into the sky, removing me from earthly pain. Never had I felt such an overt display of public shame, my body recoiling in utmost humiliation. 

Yet despite the degradation, I chose not to run. The course and hotel cost a bundle, and my desire to ‘make it’ superseded McKee’s scrutiny. 

My face was fifty shades of red while I beelined up the filled rows of people who looked at me with a mix of curiousity and disgust. I dodged women’s heels and finally found a seat beside a pleasant African American woman who tried to console me while I sat down and gathered my emotions. 

McKee is known for insulting people in his classes to prove a point. His behavior is notoriously captured in the Academy Award-winning 2002 drama/comedy film Adaptation. Here, Wikipedia.com describes the scene:

In the Charlie Kaufman-penned film Adaptation., McKee’s character was portrayed by the Emmy Award-winning actor Brian Cox. In the Oscar-winning movie, the desperate screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (played by Nicolas Cage) reluctantly goes to McKee’s course, but then — after being “shaken” by McKee’s tough-style response to his claim that “nothing happens in the real world”

YouTube.com showcases McKee’s interaction with Kaufman in a ballroom; almost identical to the session I attended:

What Was The Root Cause of McKee’s Public Shaming?

Today, when I reflect on how McKee screamed at my tardiness, I can speculate why he singled me out in front of a broad audience — a need for authority and control.

MentalHealth.net describes the process where:

people shame one another because shaming is an effective way of gaining power over others to alter and shape their behavior.

And PsychologyToday.com reports:

Shaming behaviors make us feel superior to that other person, as well as communicate to them that we wish they’d be or act differently, without us having to actually talk to them in an adult way and take responsibility for our own feelings.

While I appreciate Robert McKee is a man in demand with a need to start his STORY program on time, his approach was abrasive and downright terrifying. I believe McKee purposely used scare tactics to force people (ahem — me) to align with his desired behavior of arriving to class on time. 

My Reaction To Shame

Did McKee succeed in teaching me a lesson? Hell yes. For the following two days, I arrived early to class, yet under the fearful condition of not conforming with the larger group.

Brene Brown, a prominent shame researcher, speaks of the phenomena in her book; I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t): Telling the Truth About Perfectionism, Inadequacy, and Power, and defines shameful practices as:

the intense painful feeling or experience of believing we are flawed and therefore unworthy of acceptance and belonging.

McKee’s shaming technique worked. Given people are wired to connect and seek acceptance; I showed up extra early to be welcomed by the leader again.

Three Ways To Prove Your Point, Without Using Shame

As demonstrated, while shaming techniques work, the lasting results can be traumatic, the memory remaining in our bodies for years to come. 

There are better methods to ensure people align to desired behaviors without imposing fear and embarrassment. Here are three ways Robert McKee could have better handled the situation:

1. Ask, don’t tell. Instead of forceful public shaming, cocreate ground rules at the beginning of a group session and create an agreement on preferred behaviors. The approach will garner mutual respect and allow people to be a part of the democratic decision-making process.
2. Make ground rules explicit and transparent. Once collaborative decision-making unfolds, yes, even in the example of 500 people, place the ground rules in a visible location for all to see. Ensure repercussions of unmet social objections are established and transparent. For example, a team agreement may be for everyone to arrive and be seated by 8:55 AM. If people cannot attend on time, doors will be locked, and people can enter the room at the 10:30 AM break. 
3. Use an empathetic approach instead of shame. According to PsychologyToday.com, the best weapon against shame is empathy. When we place ourselves in the shoes of the other, we can understand how painful it is to hear shaming words. In this manner, empathy can turn off the instinct to shame others and serve as a reminder to choose kinder words when we need to communicate. 

Gruffness and shame may be a part of Robert McKee’s on-stage and on-screen character. Whether he shames people away from the camera in his personal life is a mystery I’ll never know. 

On the final afternoon of McKee’s STORY lecture, he offered the ability for people to meet him, ask a question, and sign his book. Initially, I felt shy to approach him, given our dreadful first experience. I set my fear aside and joined the long line of others eager to share a word. 

When I approached McKee, I looked him in the eye and casually mentioned I was the late woman at the onset of the course who ensured to arrive on time after that. He appeared kind and more gentle with me when we spoke one on one. While I don’t recall McKee’s exact words, I remember walking away with my book signed and a feeling of relief; this man didn’t hate me; instead, he didn’t know how to let go of his power. 

While I didn’t move on to become an award-winning film scriptwriter, I did learn a lot about writing structure, the hero’s journey, and how the protagonist must completely transform from beginning to the end; never to return to their previous state of being. Perhaps there is a lesson within the lesson for Robert McKee, how we respond to shame and ways to mitigate humiliating others. 

The story was originally published on Medium 06-07-2021

Lisa Bradburn is transitioning into an Agile Coach and is a Gestalt Psychotherapist-In-Training. She writes about the intersection of technology and the human condition. Follow Lisa on Medium.