There is a strange thing people do when faced with bad behaviour. Instead of calling it out, instead of raising an eyebrow or simply saying “that’s not on,” they sit there, smile politely, and swallow the discomfort like a mouthful of cold porridge. Everyone has been there. The colleague who never cleans the office microwave after detonating a spaghetti bolognese. The neighbour who always parks across two spaces as if their Ford Fiesta is secretly a Rolls Royce. The friend who manages to turn every conversation into an episode of “Me, Myself and I.” People put up with it, not because they enjoy it, but because some part of the human brain whispers that it is easier to just tolerate than to confront.
Psychologists will tell you it is partly about social conditioning. From the time people are children they are taught to be polite, not to make a fuss, not to upset the apple cart. This programming sticks. Instead of pointing out that Aunt Sheila’s “joke” about your life choices was rude, you laugh along while dying a little inside. Confrontation feels risky. What if she gets upset. What if there is a family row. Better to keep the peace and let resentment build like an unwatered houseplant turning brown in the corner.
There is also the fear of retaliation. In workplaces, bad behaviour often gets excused because the offender holds some kind of power. The boss who emails at 11pm and expects a reply. The senior colleague who takes credit for ideas. People convince themselves it is career suicide to challenge it, so instead they adopt coping strategies, like venting in the pub afterwards or sending sarcastic memes on the team WhatsApp. The real issue goes unchallenged because fear outweighs fairness.
Then there is the comedy of social awkwardness. Imagine standing in line at a café and the person in front of you is FaceTiming their mate at full volume. The urge to say “could you not” is strong, but you hesitate. You picture the entire café watching the exchange, you imagine yourself cast as the villain in their story later that night. “Some random woman attacked me in Pret today just for chatting to my mate!” So you stay quiet, fuming silently into your flat white.
The psychology here is not just about fear but about identity. People like to think of themselves as reasonable, tolerant, the kind of person who “doesn’t cause a scene.” Speaking up feels like crossing into difficult territory, and most of us are not auditioning for reality TV. So people choose the path of least resistance. The problem is that this can normalise the very behaviour that drives them mad. If no one ever tells Dave in Accounts that his chewing sounds like a cement mixer, Dave will assume he is fine.
Of course, humour is often the only tool people have. British culture, in particular, is famous for deploying sarcasm instead of confrontation. Someone elbows ahead of you in a queue and instead of calling them out you mutter “no no after you, please, it’s only my entire afternoon.” The offender doesn’t hear, the tension isn’t resolved, but you get the hollow satisfaction of feeling clever. It is the national pastime, right up there with complaining about the weather.
Real change comes when people are willing to get a little uncomfortable. It does not have to be dramatic. You do not need to launch into a Shakespearean monologue about injustice every time someone talks over you in a meeting. A simple “hold on, I hadn’t finished” works. Saying “please don’t do that, it makes me uncomfortable” is not rude, it is clear. People often underestimate how much relief comes with setting a boundary.
But let’s be honest. Even when people know all this, they will still bite their tongues sometimes. Because life is messy and humans are conflict-avoidant creatures who would rather eat lukewarm lumpy porridge than risk a row with Aunt Sheila. The trick is knowing which battles are worth picking. If it is just someone chewing loudly on the train, maybe you put your headphones in. If it is someone consistently not puling their weight, that is the time to speak or avoid them as best you can.
Otherwise bad behaviour multiplies like pigeons in a city square. Nobody wants to spend their life covered in metaphorical bird droppings just because they were too polite to say, “Isn’t it about time you offered to drive when we go out?”
