“[E]very time we choose coercion, we’re… meet[ing] our own needs by ignoring someone else’s. But the cost is steep. We damage trust. We fuel resentment. We teach contempt. These are not the building blocks of a long-term relationship.”
– Mauro Rebelo
I’m going to say: No one wants to be coerced.
It goes against our nature to be free, independent, and proud. That’s why coercion is reserved for punishment by the state, not a tool we naturally accept in day-to-day relationships.
Because of that, I believe coercion is extremely hard to justify. And any attempt to rationalize coercion triggers a reaction in me: the sense that the person isn’t being intellectually honest.
I don’t think people are unaware that coercion is wrong. On the contrary, I think we all know it well. But when our unmet needs become urgent, we fall into coercion as a shortcut. It’s not always malice; sometimes it’s despair. But over time, because it may become convenient (convenience is a powerful value proposition) and it can become a habit.
I say this as someone who has fallen into this trap myself. Many times.
When we are confronted for using coercion, we mount a defense. Our first instinct is not to acknowledge the mistake: it is to justify it. We tell a story.
I believe we are mainly trying to fool ourselves. And we know: the smarter the person, the more elaborate and persuasive the story is.
That’s why confrontation often fails. When someone feels accused of being wrong, unfair, or immoral, they will use every tool they have to protect their image.
This is where Nonviolent Communication (NVC) offers an alternative. It suggests that when someone is using coercion, the first step is not to judge, but to be empathic. Try to understand what unmet need might be motivating that behavior. They may not know it themselves, but it’s there.
Identifying unmet needs is not mysterious. We all have the same basic needs. With enough observation, attention to context and emotion, you can guess the need. But this takes time. Energy. Dialogue. Empathy with someone you may even resent in that moment.
That’s why judgment feels easier. Sometimes it’s even fun. But it doesn’t work. Because we can’t always enforce our judgments. And we most certainly can’t punish our way into connection with other people.
NVC suggests we start by asking, or guessing, sometimes through trial and error, what is the need they are trying to meet through coercion. And then if there is another way to meet that need without violating someone else’s autonomy.
I’ve asked myself those questions. Through painful honesty, I’ve come to recognize my own unmet needs. The main one is time for myself (thankfully, most of my emotional needs such as respect, kindness, and connection are often met).
Time to read, to write, to rest, to play, to take care of my health. Time to work—which, for me, is joyful. Time to be a husband, a son, a brother, a friend. Time to learn and make music. To work out. To have fun. The list is long.
And there’s a list of triggers I now recognize. I believe other parents will recognize them too: tiredness, underlying irritation, physical pain, financial pressure (“I can’t afford this”), time pressure (“We need to catch the plane”).
It’s not easy to admit all this. But I care deeply about intellectual honesty, and these are the conversations I’ve had with myself.
Parenting is brutal. And the truth is, kids are no different from us. They’re hardwired to seek what they want. They test our boundaries, hide, lie. It’s hard for us to know whether a request is legitimate or manipulative (but if it serves as consolation: it’s even harder for your child to tell the difference between a real limit and an arbitrary one).
However, every time we choose coercion, we’re making a trade. We meet our own needs by ignoring someone else’s. But the cost is steep. We damage trust. We fuel resentment. We teach contempt. These are not the building blocks of a long-term relationship.
And don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re saving time. It is an illusion. As Aaron Stupple says in The Sovereign Child, enforcing rules takes a lot of time, energy, repetition, and effort, without the reward of mutual understanding.
So, if parenting is the hardest job in life, I’m maybe about to make it harder, because I think we should create a code, write it down, stick it on the wall: We shall not coerce. No one. To do anything. Especially our children.
Why? In Predictably Irrational, Dan Ariely shows that the best way to reduce unethical behavior is not surveillance or punishment—it’s the reminder of a moral code.
I’ll do that. Because what I’m trying to build is not obedience, it is connection. And that does not grow in fear.
See also:
- “Why not say that the policy is noncoercion except on important issues?”
- Making not coercing workable takes creativity
- Punishment as a teaching tool
Mauro Rebelo, 2025, ‘We shall not coerce’, https://takingchildrenseriously.com/we-shall-not-coerce