Thanks R, this is something which comes up regularly, sometimes with frustration, sometimes with genuine confusion, and sometimes with a weary sigh. It shows up in relationships, families, workplaces, politics and even casual conversations. We find ourselves asking, “Why can’t people just let others be?” or “Why does everything turn into a power struggle?”
A good place to start is to recognise that most people are not trying to be difficult or unkind, they are doing what they have learned to do. From the moment we are born, we are immersed in a world that teaches us, very clearly and very consistently, that control is how things work. This way of thinking is so common that it feels normal and natural. It is what is often described as the predominant psychology of the world, external control.
External control says that if you want things to change, you must make other people change. If someone is not behaving the way we want, the answer is to pressure them, threaten them, reward them, shame them or manipulate them. When things go wrong, we look outward for the cause and outward for the solution. Someone else is the problem, someone else needs fixing and someone else should fix it.
Think about how early this starts, children are frequently told what they must do, what they should feel and how they ought to behave, often with little explanation beyond “because I said so.” Schools rely heavily on rewards and punishments to manage behaviour. Workplaces often measure and value compliance rather than engagement. Media and politics are full of messages about who is to blame and who needs to be forced to change. By the time we reach adulthood, external control is not just something we believe, it is something we habitually do.
Controlling behaviour is not a moral failure, it is a learned response. People are trying to get their needs met using the only tools they have learned. When they feel unheard, unsafe, disconnected or powerless, control feels like a solution. It gives a temporary sense of certainty and relief, even though it often creates resistance and resentment in the long run.
The trouble is that control does not work the way we hope it will, we cannot actually control what another person thinks, feels or chooses. We can influence, we can invite, we can model, but control always comes at a cost to relationships. The more we try to force change, the more the other person pushes back, withdraws or complies on the surface while disconnecting underneath.
There is another way to understand human behaviour, one that shifts the focus from controlling others to taking responsibility ourselves. When we recognise that all behaviour is an attempt to meet our needs, we stop asking “How do I make them change?” and start asking “What do I really want here, and how can I pursue it without damaging the relationship?” This approach does not excuse harmful behaviour, but it does explain it, and explanation is far more useful than blame.
Change begins when we notice our own controlling habits and question where they came from. Most of us learned them honestly and early. The good news is that what is learned can be unlearned. When we replace control with cooperation and force with connection, something remarkable happens. People become more open, more responsible and more willing to work with us, not because they are made to, but because they choose to.
The shift, from external control to personal responsibility and mutual respect, may be one of the most powerful changes any of us can make, both for ourselves and for the people around us.