The Shame of Structures

Have you ever felt ashamed to use a hammer? Or set an alarm clock? Likely not. But it’s possible. Especially if you felt like you shouldn’t need to use it.
And in this way, structures (rules, agreements, etc.) can feel shaming. The moment someone says “let’s write that down” or “can we make that a rule,” it can seem to convey distrust.
That’s a big reason people avoid making expectations explicit, and also avoid managing them once they are explicit—because even a clean request can suddenly feel judgmental.
For example, imagine a friend promises to help move furniture next weekend, and the response is, “Great, thanks. Would you mind if I got your promise in writing?”
Most people flinch, not because writing is objectively bad, but because the implied story is “I don’t trust you.”
Now let’s tweak the scenario. Imagine if your friend said, “Actually, I’ve been having some memory issues and I’m trying to be careful—would you mind if I got it in writing so I don’t drop the ball?” Same request. Same structure. Totally different feeling.
But, and this is the key point, it’s not just about other people. We tend to avoid using structures (whether propositional, material, or otherwise) because consciously using a structure is admitting our own limitations. Dave Grohl’s discomfort with a click track is one version of that.
“I Can Do It Myself!”
A more everyday version is the person who can’t focus while people chat near their desk, and thinks, “I could go work in the conference room for a bit, but I don’t want to seem anti-social,” or “I could put on headphones, but I don’t want to look unapproachable.”
But if the shame drops out of the picture, the need becomes something any reasonable person would recognize: quiet helps certain work. From that perspective, using an environmental support or a tool isn’t a confession of defeat—it’s a reasonable adaptation.
At their heart, structures are nothing but constraints. Regardless of their form, they shape our experience and our behavior, and while some of those constraints exist inside our own head, there is no inherent shame in acknowledging that the constraint may work better if it’s external.
Of course, not all structures are shaming. It’s culturally acceptable to use alarm clocks or GPS. And it’s culturally acceptable to use a checklist for high-stakes or repetitive work—pilots, surgeons, and mechanics do this routinely—because the point isn’t to measure an individual’s intelligence or trustworthiness.1
Similarly, once shame is removed, structures become what they often are at their best: simple supports that make work and relationships more navigable—like saying, “I’m going to work in the conference room for a bit so I can focus, but please grab me if you need anything.”
So, What Do We Do About It?
So, what do we do? Well, we try to de-shame structures. Whether we’re making a request of someone else, or we’re trying to solve an issue with our own productivity or sanity.
If the concern is that a rule will feel shaming, own the tension you’re trying to solve (“This still feels unclear to me and I feel anxious about that, but what would really help me here is if we had an agreement about…”).
And make it explicit you’re not asking them to internalize the expectation (“I know you’ve got a lot going on, so I’m thinking of this as more like an external support”).
When those meanings are left unsaid, people fill the gap with the harshest interpretation: “You think I’m unreliable,” or “I’m failing some basic adult test.”
That’s why most attempts to add structure can make interactions awkward, and why people cling to implicitness even when it keeps things muddy.
Conclusion
No matter how well phrased or requested, structures can feel shaming. It’s not just because of the social aspects. It’s because they can hit at the heart of who we think we are and what we think we should be able to do.
But the better we get at understanding how to effectively and humanely use structures, the better we’ll get at embracing our own limitations.
I’ve got a lot more to say about what I call “the myth of internalization” which is essentially, “If I have to remind them of something, then they won’t build the capacity to do it themselves,” but that will have to be another article.


