How to Shame Someone (So It Actually Works)

Private Shame, Public Impact: What Most People Get Wrong About Accountability and Calling Someone In

When care replaces performance, shame can become a mirror instead of a weapon.

Me? Shame someone?

I never thought I’d write an article on how to shame another person.

But I also never thought I’d live in Vietnam, where saving face is a cultural lifeline and sometimes the only line of defense you have when someone refuses to own their shit.

Let’s get this out of the way:

We live in a time of weaponized shame. Public. Performative. Algorithmically rewarded.

But most of it? Completely ineffective.

What I’ve learned, especially in cultures where shame isn’t a bug, but a feature, is that there’s a difference between shaming loudly and shaming well.

Case in Point:

Recently, a friend I hadn’t seen in years posted a statement on Instagram about the war in Gaza.

I’m no stranger to nuance in the region. I’ve lived there, worked there, served there.

And while I’m committed to compassion for both the Israeli and Palestinian people, his post crossed a line:

He wrote something like, “What the Jews deserve…”

Not Israelis. Not even the Jewish people.

Just: “The Jews.”

I didn’t comment publicly.

I wrote him directly. Told him why his words felt dangerous, cowardly, and beneath him.

I told him he gave his humanity away in that moment.

And that if his parents read it, they’d be ashamed.

So was I.

He didn’t block me. He didn’t thank me. But he told me he’d think about it.

Because what I offered wasn’t cancelation. It was consequence.

Why This Worked:

• Private shame hits deeper. Public shaming triggers ego defense. Private disappointment triggers reflection.

• It centered the relationship over the audience. No crowd to play to. Just a mirror.

• It invited accountability without offering a script. He had to sit with it. And he did.

The Psychology of Effective Shame:

• People aren’t changed by volume. They’re changed by proximity.

• Shame works best when it’s earned. When it comes from someone who’s shown care.

• The goal isn’t humiliation. It’s interruption. A short-circuiting of self-righteousness.

Final Thought:

I’m not here to tell you shame is good. I’m saying it’s real. And if we’re going to use it, we better learn how to use it wisely.

In a world where public beliefs make private safety feel impossible, sometimes shame is the boundary.

Just make sure it comes from a place of care, not performance.

And if it’s going to sting, make it sting for the right reasons.

Maybe ask yourself, "What would it sound like if I didn’t try to fix them or set them straight; just told them how they let me down?"

And if you want to hear more on this subject, just let me know. I’ve got time.