How Emotion Became a Crime, and Frustration Got You Cancelled
“Oh, You Raised Your Voice?!”
Do you know what else is now considered “aggression”? Letting your vocal cords carry the mildest trace of human emotion. You don’t even have to yell — just add a little seasoning of frustration to your tone, and suddenly it’s “Oh, calm down, sir/ma'am, there’s no need to raise your voice.”
No need? Let’s take a very real, utterly fictional-but-totally-happens-every-day example: your mobile phone — the lifeline of your work, productivity, and general sense of being a functional adult — has been unceremoniously cut off. You’ve been paying via direct debit like a responsible citizen. But some genius system glitch decided your bill hadn’t been paid. So first thing in the morning, you wake up to a cheerful SMS saying, “Your service has been suspended due to non-payment.”
That’s right. You paid. They didn’t care. You’ve now got no mobile reception. At 9 AM. On a workday.
You ring your carrier’s customer “care” line (already giving them the benefit of the doubt), and surprise!
“We are experiencing unusually high call volumes.”
— which is the corporate code for “literally always.”
You are number 16 in the queue. Smooth rock music kicks in. Your coffee gets cold. The queue number dances like a drunk uncle at a wedding: 16, 15, 14... back to 15... then 13... then—click—the line drops.
You call back, re-enter your phone number, birth certificate, blood type, your preferred gender pronouns, and preferred sandwich order. This time, there’s a new message. A robotic voice politely warns:
“Our representatives have the right not to be subjected to bullying, racism, sexism or inappropriate language. Calls may be terminated if behaviour is deemed offensive.”
Hold up — that’s assertiveness, isn’t it? Telling you upfront how you must behave in this relationship. But let’s be real: they’re not being assertive — they’re laying the groundwork for your pain and the experience of suffering they themselves caused you in the first place to be invalidated in advance.
Eventually, you reach an actual human. You calmly explain the problem, still hoping for some sanity. They ask you to restart your phone, change some obscure settings, recite Shakespeare backwards, whatever.
But then — you don’t follow the instructions properly, maybe because you’re not a Level 12 Systems Architect. The rep now gets snappy with you.
And heaven forbid you let just the tip of your frustration leak out — raise your tone even slightly, and you’ll get the golden response:
“Sir/ma’am, I’m going to ask you not to yell at me. If this continues, I may have to end the call.”
Yes. That’s the bridge. The sacred bridge of service that they built with straw and paperclips — collapses the moment your tone reflects the consequences they caused.
They’ve cost you your time, energy, work efficiency, and professional reliability — but you saying, “This is ridiculous!” gets marked as abuse.
And their solution?
“You can leave feedback at the end of the call.”
A.K.A. yell into the void so their AI bot can index your fury into a row of spreadsheet data. Congratulations — you are now a dot in a pie chart presented at next quarter’s board meeting about “customer sentiment.”
Mirror Mirror in the Meeting Room
This ‘nonsense’ isn’t exclusive to call centres. Let’s zoom in on the workplace.
Imagine an overloaded, over-scheduled project manager dealing with another delay. A team member misses another deadline or, worse, shows up unprepared for the third critical meeting in a row.
The project manager finally speaks up, voice slightly firm:
“We agreed this would be ready last Thursday. This is now impacting the timeline and client confidence. What’s going on?”
Boom. HR’s alarm bells start ringing. Someone in the meeting chat types “bit intense.” The team member says they felt “unsafe.” Suddenly, it’s not about responsibility anymore. It’s about “tone.”
No mention of the recurring missed commitments. No questions about the cost to the business. Just whispers about “vibe” and “emotional safety.”
We’ve created a culture where dodging accountability is easier than restarting your router.
The Double Standard of “Nice”
So, let’s put it plainly: the same people who scold you for your tone have no issue putting you through psychological gymnastics and energy-draining nonsense. They’ll waste your time, derail your day, and have the audacity to say, “mind your language” when you call it out. They expect you to be emotionless, docile, and compliant while they hide behind scripts, slogans, and statements about “respect.” But you having a fully justified reaction to their incompetence? That’s suddenly “aggression”. And this isn’t just personal — there’s something bigger-than-you-and-I at stake here. Because when honest expression is punished and repression is rewarded, we don’t just lose patience — we lose truth, accountability, and integrity at scale.
Culture, Conditioning, and the Crime of Feeling
Let’s not pretend this tone-policing phenomenon plays out the same way everywhere. How we relate to emotional expression — especially through voice, posture, and presence — is deeply shaped by cultural conditioning and the underlying collective metacontent that defines what is acceptable, respectable, or “proper.”
In many parts of the world — including regions across the Middle East, Southern Europe (such as Italy or Greece), and parts of South Asia like India — expressing frustration or passion through tone, gesture, and facial expression is often seen as a natural, even healthy, form of engagement. It doesn’t necessarily signal hostility — in fact, it can signal involvement, sincerity, or care. A raised voice, expressive hands, or animated dialogue are often just signs that you’re awake and paying attention. These expressions are not just habits — they are reflections of the meta-level interpretations of what it means to connect, express, and belong.
By contrast, expressive behaviour may be interpreted very differently in some other cultural environments — shaped by a different collective metacontent — particularly those that emphasise social harmony, emotional restraint, or deference to hierarchy. In certain East Asian contexts, for example, politeness, indirectness, and self-regulation are deeply woven into the cultural fabric and metacontent. Maintaining a composed, reserved presence — even under pressure — is seen as a mark of respect and emotional discipline. Assertiveness, especially if it disrupts group cohesion or authority, may be misread as disrespect or even moral failure.
Then there are environments — often found in formal institutions, corporate settings, or societies influenced by individualist or “rationalist” metacontent — where maturity is equated with emotional minimalism. The expectation is to translate every feeling into tidy, well-articulated sentences. In these spaces, showing too much emotion can be interpreted as “passionate,” “impulsive,” or “rude,” while maintaining a neutral, monotone presence is rewarded. The unspoken metacontent here is that feelings must be formatted into words to be valid — and any deviation risks your credibility.
Now, to be clear — this is not a blanket statement or a cultural critique.
What’s being shared here is based on lived experience and observations from working with highly diverse individuals across multiple countries, and the intent is purely to surface patterns for the sake of argument and reflection.
Of course, there are always exceptions — not every individual reflects the cultural norms or metacontent structures they’re surrounded by, and no culture is a monolith.
The point isn’t to stereotype but to highlight how cultural norms and their embedded metacontent shape what we consider appropriate or aggressive, respectful or rebellious — often without us realising it.
Because here’s the ontological reality: emotional expression and self-regulation aren’t opposites. They can coexist. The problem begins when we conflate style with substance or assume that someone's delivery invalidates their message.
So no — this isn’t about judging any culture as right or wrong.
It’s about recognising that what’s labelled as “aggression” in one context might simply be presence, honesty, or care in another — informed by an entirely different metacontent about what it means to be human.
And if we don’t expand our understanding, we’ll keep mislabelling people not for what they’re being — but for how their being is packaged.
Let’s Call It What It Is. This isn’t about civility. It’s about power and perception. When the one holding the mic, the policy, or the paycheck doesn’t like your tone, it’s aggression. When they assert their own terms? That’s just protocol. Let’s stop pretending frustration is a crime and start holding systems — and people — accountable for the messes they create.
Raising your voice doesn’t make you wrong. Sometimes, it just means you’ve been ignored long enough.
“Sorry, Did You Just... Feel Something? How Dare You.”
Here’s another classic tale — one that’ll hit close to home for anyone who's ever tried to work with someone who thinks they’re working for a parallel universe version of you that lives entirely inside their head.
Imagine you’re running a company. You’ve got a big project on the go, deadlines are tight, stakes high, and you supposedly bring in a contractor — an expert. You invest time, energy, and, yes, money to build rapport, align on scope, and agree on what’s to be done.
Fast forward to a random Tuesday afternoon. You discover they’re not doing what you agreed on. At all.
You politely ask, “Hey, why are you working on that section?”
They respond — casually, with the confidence of someone who’s never read their own contract or have been present to the agreement just this morning — “Oh, I changed my mind. I felt like this part was more important today.”
No prior message. No heads-up. Just vibes-based project management.
And when you try to express concern — not rage, not yelling, just concern — they go full interpretive dance with your words.
Suddenly, you're not saying what you're saying. You're “implying.” You’re “insinuating.” They “feel” that you might be thinking something. They don’t ask. They don’t clarify. They just assume. Then, build a defensive fortress around the assumption.
They interrupt you mid-sentence to defend themselves from a battle you never started — with weapons you never drew. You're left thinking: Am I being held responsible for something I didn’t even think, let alone say?
It’s like trying to play chess while your opponent is having a sword fight in their head with a ghost version of you. And then it happens.
You finally — after dozens of these exhausting loops — try to draw a clear line, maybe with a bit of urgency in your tone (again, not a crime), and they cut you off, roll their eyes, and say:
“I just think you don’t like being challenged.”
Oh, sweet irony.
You’re paying them to challenge you — constructively. You want pushback. You respect expertise. What you don’t want is clairvoyant rebellion wrapped in passive defensiveness and served cold with a garnish of disrespect.
And now, apparently, you're the aggressor because you didn’t nod along like a hypnotised bobblehead and dared to express frustration after an hour of miscommunication.
They want an apology.
Not for your mistake — but for your tone.
For feeling something.
For not being docile enough to let them dominate a conversation you’re paying for.
You leave the meeting not only responsible for what you said but for what you didn’t say, might say, or could be misunderstood to have insinuated in a parallel reality.
Emotional Tone Has Become the New Sin
Let’s be clear: this isn’t communication anymore. This is emotional censorship dressed up as professionalism.
We're living in a time where people want psychological safety but also want to play psychic — guessing your intentions, predicting your reactions, and taking offence at the idea of a tone you never actually used.
It’s like signing a peace treaty with a mime. You’re responsible for every gesture, facial twitch, and sigh — and if they misread it? That’s on you.
Here’s the Real Question:
- When did professionalism come to mean emotional sterilisation?
- When did leadership get redefined as “never showing the human condition”?
- When did accountability for tone override accountability for actual work?
Because here’s the kicker: the more emotionally disciplined you are, the more it seems you’re expected to absorb the emotional labour of everyone else — until the dam breaks.
And the moment you finally let something slip — a flicker of exasperation, a sharper-than-usual phrase — that becomes the whole story.
Forget the wasted hours, miscommunication, disrespect, and gaslighting — the sin of tone is now unforgivable.
Aggressiveness vs Aggression: Same Pub, Different Drinks
Let’s pause and unpack this because words like “aggressive” get thrown around so loosely these days you’d think they came free in cereal boxes. There’s a difference between aggressiveness and aggression. They sound similar — but they’re playing entirely different games.
Aggressiveness is a way of being — a person’s orientation or posture in how they assert themselves in the world. It shows up in how someone relates to power, boundaries, tension, and control. It doesn’t mean they’re throwing punches or frothing at the mouth — it’s more about the force behind their expression, whether they’re conscious of it or not.
Aggression, in contrast, is generally understood as an action or behaviour intended to harm or overpower — physically, emotionally, or psychologically. It often involves forcefulness without regard for the other. But in everyday interactions, aggression is more commonly used as an accusation — the label slapped on the moment someone else feels pushed, confronted, or uncomfortable with how you’re being.
Let me bring it home with two very real creatures from my own world.
Back when I had a working line German Shepherd, if I was visibly upset — let’s say there was a clear boundary crossed at home — even a subtle shift in my tone would send him into guilt mode. He’d shrink, avoid eye contact, try to “make it right” before I even spoke. That dog had a high sensitivity to perceived disapproval and was incredibly eager to please — but also prone to misreading firmness as danger. Classic emotional over-correction.
Now, contrast that with my Schnauzer.
If I show frustration with him, he doesn’t collapse. He registers it — calm, alert — and it’s as if he says: “Got it. I hear you. I’m happy to follow your lead… but I won’t be humiliated.”
He holds his dignity. He’s not being rebellious — he’s relating to authority and assertiveness with clarity. He isn’t there to dominate, but nor will he let himself be dominated in a way that strips his essence. His ability to stand his ground without hostility would easily be misread in today’s world as “aggression.” But what it really is... is self-respect.
His relationship with aggressiveness is healthy. He doesn't express it needlessly, but neither does he disown it. That balance allows him to live with boundaries — not as a push-over and not as a threat. He’s not reactive — but he’s not available for humiliation either.
And that, right there, is the nuance we’ve lost in human interactions.
What Does Data Say? Assertiveness Is Not a Linear Spectrum
And here’s the thing — this isn’t just philosophical banter or canine metaphor. Our empirical data, gathered through the Being Profile Core Questionnaire, with over 4,000 individuals from highly diverse backgrounds, cultures, professions, and life contexts, testifies to this very dynamic.
In fact, across over 4,000 profiles assessed through the Being Profile, assertiveness consistently ranks among the lowest average scores, regardless of age, profession, or cultural background.
What we see, time and time again, is that assertiveness is not some single, sliding scale like courage — where cowardice sits at one end, recklessness at the other, and courage, that golden mean, lives in the middle.
No — assertiveness is a far more nuanced beast. It’s not just a point on a line.
It’s a cluster — a constellation of qualities.
It sits at the intersection of three distinct and often misunderstood ways of being:
- Submissiveness / Agreeableness
- Assertiveness / Clarity and firmness
- Disagreeableness / Aggressiveness
(Note: not “aggression” as behaviour, but “aggressiveness” as disposition — the willingness to push.)
If you like blunt metaphors, It’s like being able to shift between being nice, firm, and nasty — depending on what’s required, without getting stuck in any of them or disowning any completely.
Think of it more as a pendulum than a dial. The maturity is not in locking it in the centre but in knowing when and how to swing it and doing so consciously, responsibly, and ontologically.
Let’s Look into the distinction of Assertiveness as a Way of Being in the Being Framework before explicitly discussing the healthy relationships with submissiveness and aggressiveness:
Assertiveness is when you express yourself effectively and stand up for your point of view while also being respectful of others. It is the willingness to express your thoughts and feelings and communicate your needs and expectations firmly and directly while being considerate of others and aware of any subsequent consequences of being assertive. Assertiveness is being resolute, straight, firm and effective.
A healthy relationship with assertiveness indicates that you are predominately straight and unambiguous in your communication with others. You rarely resort to threats or attempt to manipulate outcomes and are transparent with your motives. You are bold in communicating your and others’ needs and expectations in terms of the outcomes required or expected. You are comfortable letting others know how you feel and express yourself without emotional outbursts.
An unhealthy relationship with assertiveness indicates that you may be unreasonably submissive, agreeable or aggressive, or that you predominantly rely on manipulation and domination to get your way, express yourself and communicate with others. You may frequently go along with what others decide to avoid conflict. You may also use inappropriate humour, sarcasm, teasing or underhanded comments to manipulate, bully, control or put others down. Alternatively, you may frequently threaten or use the tone of your voice to dominate or exert your will on others. As a result, they may consider you manipulative or dominating, even though that is not always your intention. Your conversations may quickly spiral or escalate emotionally while issues remain unresolved.
Reference: Tashvir, A. (2021). BEING (p. 471). Engenesis Publications.
Healthy Relationships with Both Submission and Aggressiveness
A healthy relationship with submission isn’t about being a pushover who says “yes” so fast your neck snaps — it’s about wisdom. It’s knowing when to follow the lead — like when a police officer pulls you over, and it's not the time to start a philosophical debate about road infrastructure. Or when your football team captain gives orders mid-game — even if your inner genius thinks otherwise. Sometimes, being right has to take a back seat to being aligned.
It’s not about being spineless. It’s about flow, belonging, and knowing when to park your ego — at least temporarily. Now, flip the pendulum.
A healthy relationship with aggressiveness is also essential. Because if someone’s trying to rob you in the street and your strategy is smiling politely and filling out a customer feedback form — good luck with that.
You need to show teeth. You need your presence to say, “I may not bite first, but don’t test me.”
That’s not toxic. That’s what keeps your dignity intact when the world gets weird.
When Leadership Isn’t Just Holding Space — It’s Holding the Line
Now, let’s get into the uncomfortable stuff — the part that doesn’t get printed on your company's Core Values poster in Comic Sans. If you're in a leadership role, a healthy relationship with aggressiveness is not just helpful — it’s moral oxygen. Especially when you're dealing with actual bad faith: toxic culture sabotage, bullying, manipulation, or — let’s stop dancing around it — sexual misconduct in the workplace. You start, of course, like a responsible adult — with assertiveness. You set boundaries. You make space for accountability. You try the clear, respectful route.
But if that doesn’t work?
If someone keeps trampling over people while quoting “teamwork” in meetings — then assertiveness alone won’t cut it. That’s when you stop facilitating transformation and start filling out the formal report.
Let’s be very clear:
This is not a call for violence or a green light for emotional outbursts in the name of “authenticity.” It’s not about storming in with medieval energy and a printed-out Code of Conduct like a corporate knight.
It’s about being unavailable for coercion and willing to take clear, legal, necessary action to protect others — and the integrity of the whole. Because passivity in the face of repeated harm isn’t a virtue, it’s complicity, shrink-wrapped in discomfort.
And No, These Conversations Aren’t Comfortable — But They’re Real
These aren’t the kinds of conversations that get turned into inspirational LinkedIn carousels with silhouettes of people high-fiving at sunset. They don’t fit into pastel-coloured team-building workshops where someone says, “I feel seen” every 12 minutes. But they are real. And they are necessary. In the workplace. In leadership. In life.
The Strawman Parade: Arguing with the You That Doesn’t Exist
Let’s circle back to one of the most insidious moves in modern-day dysfunctional dynamics: the Strawman Fallacy. It’s when someone takes what you’ve said, distorts it into something easier to attack, and then argues with that — instead of actually hearing you.
You say:
“This part of the project wasn’t what we agreed on.”
They hear:
“You’re incompetent, and I hate you.”
Now, you end up defending something you never actually said while they passionately defend themselves against something you never actually meant. It’s not a conversation — it’s performance art. And you’re somehow cast as the villain in their one-person play. But what’s even more damaging is what happens inside you.
Repression: The Price of Playing Nice
Here’s the part nobody wants to talk about: repression.
In these moments — when you’re falsely accused, misrepresented, tone-policed, and made to feel like the aggressor just for existing with a spine — you may silence yourself. You bite your tongue. You swallow the truth. You abandon your emotional truth because the social cost of expressing it feels too high.
You tap into repression — not grace, not self-regulation — repression. And repression, make no mistake, is slow spiritual suffocation. It’s the price we pay for playing “nice.”
This is where emotional ulcers begin. This is how we die a little every time we prioritise being “perceived well” over being true.
But we’re not going to stop there. This isn’t just about venting. We want a way through.
So What Do We Do?
We don’t want to give our power away. We don’t want to repress. We don’t want to explode, either. We need ontological responsiveness.
Let’s break it down into before, during, and after.
BEFORE: Proactive Ontological Preparation
- Clarify Your Commitment
Anchor in what matters. Is your commitment to the outcome, the relationship, truth, or your own integrity? Clarity here gives you direction when storms hit. - Anticipate Patterns Without Becoming Cynical
If you’ve seen strawman patterns or deflections before, don’t pretend you haven’t. But don’t let them own your tone. Prepare to stay curious, not compliant. - Generate Being States Before You Enter the Room
Before the meeting or conversation, intentionally generate Being states like Groundedness, Authenticity, Care, and Responsibility. It’s not about playing a role — it’s about showing up as who you choose to be. - Create the Context Early
Sometimes saying upfront:
“I want us to stay aligned on facts, and I value being understood accurately — not interpreted or psychoanalysed” — can prevent the conversation from spiralling into fantasy.
DURING: Ontological Responsiveness in the Fire
- Name, Don’t Shame
When strawman fallacies emerge, address them directly but cleanly:
“I hear your concern, but that’s not what I said or meant. Let’s slow down and get back to what was actually said.” - Don’t Pass the Tone Trophy
Frustrated? Naturally. But don’t hand over the gold card by flipping your tone. That becomes the story. Instead, speak emotionally but responsibly:
“This is frustrating to me because I value our alignment, and it feels off course.”
That way, you’re not repressing — but you’re also not self-sabotaging. - Interrupt the Repression Reflex
That urge to shut up and smile? Interrogate it. Ask yourself: Am I managing their perception or standing for what matters? Choose to stand, not suppress. - Own the Room Without Dominating It
Be assertive. Be clear. But keep choosing curiosity over dominance. Ask:
“Can I finish what I’m saying before you respond? I’m saying this to align us, not attack you.”
Name the purpose of your speech. It disarms defences.
AFTER: Completion, Not Suppression
- Debrief With Yourself Ontologically
Don’t just walk away saying, “that went badly.” Ask:- Who was I being in that conversation?
- What triggered repression or frustration?
- What Being qualities were missing — or hijacked?
- If Needed, Address Misperceptions — Once
If someone walks away with a story about you that’s false, you can correct it. But don’t beg for understanding. One clean attempt at restoration is enough. After that, you’re managing their worldview, not yours. - Honour Your Emotional Integrity
You don’t owe them guilt for your frustration. You owe yourself the dignity of not turning it into resentment.
Sit with it. Move it. Journal it. Clear it. But don’t leave it buried — repression always resurfaces uglier. - Train Teams in the Being Discourse
Seriously. These patterns don’t go away with better conflict-resolution tips. You need systemic ontology — a new shared language around what it means to be human in performance.
Because without the Being Framework, you’ll keep talking about tone, power, blame — and never get to the root.
Let’s Be Real — Reading This Doesn’t Equate to Mastery
Now, let’s not kid ourselves. Yes, we’ve just broken things down into a neat before-during-after framework. Clear steps. Clean language. Feels good, right?
But here’s the inconvenient truth: reading it doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly do it — especially not when you’re in the heat of a real, emotionally charged situation.
Why? Because most people don’t actually have a healthy, integrated relationship with assertiveness, submissiveness, or aggressiveness.
And we don’t say that from opinion — we say it from data.
Through the Being Profile Core Assessment — completed by over 4,000 people across industries, cultures, and contexts — we’ve consistently seen how these aspects of Being show up as blind spots, distortions, or underdeveloped capacities.
Add to that the real-world experience of hundreds of accredited practitioners and coaches trained through the Engenesis Coach Academy, and one thing becomes abundantly clear:
It takes something.
It takes development. It takes deliberate, ongoing work. It takes a fundamental shift in your metacontent — that is, your mental models, interpretive frameworks, and inner architecture that define how you make sense of the world, yourself, and others.
That kind of shift isn’t cosmetic. It’s not mindset hacks. It’s ontological transformation — change at the level of your Being.
That’s why tools like the Being Framework, the Nested Theory of Sense-Making, and the Metacontent Discourse exist in the first place. Because life doesn’t just challenge your behaviour — it challenges the deeper layers of what you see, believe, assume, and prioritise.
There’s plenty out there — articles like this one, videos, books, public materials — all designed to spark awareness and reflection. And they matter.
But if you're serious about this work — serious about living it, not just understanding it — then working with a coach who’s fluent in this language of Being can be invaluable. Not because you can’t do it alone. But because you shouldn’t have to.
Not when the cost of staying stuck is so high. Not when the consequences of misreading — or being misread — show up in your relationships, leadership, performance, and well-being.
This isn’t about being better at conflict. It’s about being more human — with depth, clarity, and actual integrity. And that, as we’ve said from the start, is no small thing.
Final Word
Let’s get something straight. Repression is not maturity. Docility is not professionalism. Tone-neutrality is not integrity. And no — being calm is not the same as being clear. We’ve built systems that reward emotional flatness and punish human truth — where composure is fetishised, and conviction is mistaken for conflict.
But here’s the deal: being emotional doesn’t make you aggressive. Being firm doesn’t make you unsafe. Being expressive doesn’t make you wrong. The goal isn’t to perform politeness. The goal is to embody alignment — even when it’s uncomfortable, even when your voice shakes.
So yes, stand your ground. But don’t do it from your wounds, your defence mechanisms, or your ego. Do it from your Being — the grounded, present, ontologically responsible self that doesn't fold for approval or ignite just to be heard.
The world doesn’t need more well-behaved silence; it needs people who can hold complexity, express truth, and walk through fire — without burning others and without burning themselves.