When shame becomes stigma

Sunday 25th October

Last week, we considered how communities establish expectations about what is respectable, acceptable or disgraceful, and how those expectations can be applied quite differently depending on who is being judged.

We also made a distinction between feeling ashamed, being shamed by other people, and experiencing social sanctions. Those distinctions become particularly useful when we begin thinking about stigma, because a person can be entirely comfortable with some aspect of themselves and still live in a social environment that treats that aspect as discrediting.

This week, I want to spend some time with the sociological concept of stigma, particularly the way it shapes what people reveal about themselves, what they anticipate from others, and how much effort can go into managing information that might change how they are perceived.

The sociologist Erving Goffman explored these questions in his 1963 book Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity. His central interest was in what happens when an attribute becomes socially discrediting within a particular set of relationships and expectations.

One of the useful things about Goffman's account is that stigma cannot be understood simply by examining the attribute itself. Its significance depends on the social context in which it is interpreted.

Consider something as ordinary as having received treatment for a mental health condition. In one social environment, this might be regarded as unremarkable, perhaps even as evidence that someone has taken their wellbeing seriously. In another, the same information might raise questions about their reliability, competence or suitability for particular responsibilities.

The person's history has not changed between those settings. What has changed is the meaning other people attach to it, along with the consequences that might follow from its disclosure.

Of course, stigma is not limited to mental health. Across different societies and historical periods, people have been stigmatised on the basis of disability, illness, poverty, sexuality, family background, occupation, religious identity and countless other characteristics. The specific attributes that become discrediting vary, as do the consequences and the possibilities for resisting them.

This is one reason the social context matters so much. We cannot assume that the same information carries the same meaning, or the same risks, everywhere.

So what happens when an attribute becomes discrediting?

Goffman was particularly interested in the relationship between a person's social identity and the expectations other people bring to an interaction.

We rarely approach one another without assumptions. We form impressions about people's backgrounds, roles, abilities, trustworthiness and social standing, often with very little information. Some of these assumptions are revised as we get to know somebody. Others are remarkably resistant to correction.

When an attribute is stigmatised, it can become disproportionately important in how a person is perceived. Other aspects of their identity may receive less attention, and their behaviour may be interpreted through assumptions associated with the discrediting characteristic.

Someone with a psychiatric diagnosis, for example, may find that ordinary frustration is interpreted as evidence of instability. A person with a history of addiction might discover that a perfectly understandable mistake is taken as confirmation that they cannot be trusted. Someone living in poverty may have their financial circumstances treated as evidence of poor judgement or character, even when the conditions contributing to those circumstances are largely outside their control.

These examples involve different social histories and different forms of disadvantage, but they illustrate a similar process. Once a particular characteristic becomes salient, it can influence how other information about the person is understood.

And the consequences may extend beyond interpersonal judgement.

Stigma can affect opportunities for employment, access to services, treatment within institutions, social relationships and participation in community life. Researchers such as Bruce Link and Jo Phelan have argued that stigma is especially important to understand in relation to labelling, stereotyping, separation, status loss and discrimination, particularly where differences in social power allow those processes to have material consequences.

This adds something important to the conversation we began last week. The ability to label somebody negatively is not necessarily the same as having the power to restrict their opportunities because of that label.

The work of managing what other people know

One of the most interesting aspects of Goffman's work concerns the management of information.

He distinguished between people whose stigmatised characteristic is already known or readily apparent in a particular interaction, and those whose characteristic is not immediately apparent and may therefore be concealed or disclosed.

These circumstances create different social problems.

When a characteristic is visible or already known, a person may have to navigate other people's reactions, assumptions and behaviour directly. When it is concealable, they may instead face repeated decisions about whether, when and to whom they should disclose it.

Imagine somebody beginning a new job while managing a mental health condition that has previously attracted negative reactions from colleagues. They may wonder whether to mention their treatment history, how much information to share if they need time away for an appointment, or whether a disclosure could affect how their performance is evaluated.

They may decide to tell a trusted colleague but not their manager. They might be comfortable discussing their experience with friends while preferring to keep it private at work. Their decisions could change as relationships develop or as they learn more about the organisation. None of these choices necessarily tells us whether the person feels ashamed.

They may feel entirely at ease with their diagnosis and still have sensible reasons to be selective about disclosure. Equally, somebody may experience considerable internal shame in a relatively accepting environment, making disclosure difficult even when the anticipated rejection is unlikely.

In practice, these possibilities can overlap. People may have experienced discrimination in the past, developed expectations about how others will respond, and internalised some of the negative messages they have encountered.

The point is that disclosure decisions are made within actual social conditions, including conditions that may be uncertain or unequal.

Research on concealable stigmatised identities, including work by Stephenie Chaudoir and Jeffrey Fisher, has examined how disclosure can involve competing considerations about potential support, rejection, relationship quality and wellbeing. There is no single disclosure decision that will be appropriate for every person or every setting.

I think this is worth remembering when psychological conversations encourage people to become more open, authentic or comfortable being seen.

Those can be valuable goals, but they can also sound deceptively straightforward when we overlook the circumstances in which someone is being asked to reveal themselves.

Another important dimension of stigma is the possibility of rejection, even when rejection is not occurring in the present moment.

People who belong to stigmatised groups may become attentive to signs that they are being judged, excluded or treated differently. That attention can be shaped by personal experiences, observations of how others are treated, and broader cultural messages about the group to which they belong.

Imagine someone who has repeatedly heard colleagues describe people with mental health difficulties as unreliable or emotionally unstable. Even if nobody has directed those comments at them personally, they have learned something about how disclosure might be received in that workplace. They may become more cautious about what they share or more concerned that ordinary mistakes will be interpreted through a negative stereotype.

Research on anticipated stigma and stigma-related vigilance helps us understand how these expectations develop. Sometimes anticipated rejection will occur, sometimes it will not, and sometimes the person will have no reliable way of knowing whether a particular interaction was influenced by stigma.

From a psychological perspective, we might explore whether someone is overestimating rejection or interpreting ambiguous behaviour negatively. Those questions can be useful, provided we also consider whether their expectations have been shaped by experiences of actual discrimination.

But stigma can also influence how people evaluate themselves.

Researchers including Patrick Corrigan have distinguished between public stigma, involving negative stereotypes and discriminatory responses towards a group, and self-stigma, where individuals come to endorse and apply those beliefs to themselves.

Someone who has grown up hearing that needing psychological treatment is a sign of weakness may eventually seek treatment and find themselves struggling with the very judgement they once heard directed at others. This is one way stigma and shame can become closely connected.

But in positive news, internalisation is not inevitable. People can recognise a stereotype without agreeing with it, reject a judgement while still experiencing discrimination, or find belonging in communities that challenge dominant attitudes.

Even when someone does internalise stigma, changes in their self-evaluation and changes in their social environment may happen at very different rates. A person might become more accepting of themselves while continuing to face exclusion. Equally, social attitudes may improve while longstanding feelings of shame remain.

So who carries the responsibility for change?

I think this is where the relationship between psychology and sociology is important.

Psychological work can help people question internalised beliefs, navigate anticipated rejection, and make decisions about disclosure that reflect their own preferences and circumstances.

But it is worth considering what we are asking of someone when we encourage them to become more open, confident or comfortable being seen.

For a person whose disclosure could affect their employment, relationships or safety, greater openness may involve genuine costs. Privacy and selective disclosure can be thoughtful decisions rather than problems requiring correction.

Sociological accounts of stigma encourage us to examine the wider conditions shaping those decisions, including whose characteristics are treated as discrediting, whose behaviour receives greater scrutiny, and who has the power to impose consequences.

Last week, we asked who decides what is shameful. This week, we've considered how those judgements can become attached to particular attributes and identities, influencing what people reveal about themselves and what they anticipate from others.

As we continue exploring the social life of shame, I think it's worth remembering that people may be navigating both their own emotional responses and the very real expectations of the communities and institutions around them.

Understanding one without the other can leave us with a rather incomplete picture.

As always, stay curious,

Shoni

Dr Shoni Marshall-Edwards
Clinical Psychologist · AHPRA PSY0004030165
Alba Psychology · Online · Australia and New Zealand

References and further reading