The 11th Commandment: Thou Shalt Not Be Passive-Aggressive
Written by Hash Rifai
High up on Mount Sinai, the thunder and lightning had subsided, the smoke had cleared, and all was quiet. Moses knelt down and picked up the stone tablet on which were now etched the Ten Commandments. He carefully studied the list, but as he neared the end, his brow furrowed. There seemed to be one commandment missing. An order not to commit a sin as egregious as the rest. That quintessential of British traits: passive aggressiveness.
Who is the passive aggressor? They can be immediately identified by a few physical traits: pursed lips, tightly clenched jaws, narrowed eyes, a cold glare, and a twitchy manner. And what about their character traits? The PA practitioner, as we will now refer to them, avoids conflict at all costs. They bury feelings of discontent deep in their psyche, where it festers and simmers over time. When these feelings reach boiling point and can no longer be contained, the PA practitioner lashes out suddenly—verbally and sometimes physically—at those closest to them, usually loved ones, who are taken aback by the practitioner’s actions.
Empathy, however—that lost human art—must be afforded to the PA practitioner. As with most behaviours, its development commonly begins in early childhood and at the hands of a strict and overbearing parent, a parent who meets a child’s emotional needs with a dismissive and sharp tongue. The child, no longer safe or confident in sharing his or her feelings, for fear of being shut down or punished, begins to bury emotions where they remain unresolved. The once sweet and innocent child retreats inwards and develops a fear of conflict. Passive aggression becomes a means of protection.
It must be made clear that the PA practitioner is not an inherently bad person, unless of course said person also exhibits narcissistic traits. Then it’s a different game altogether. A narcissist is driven by control, protection of ego, and image control. Passive aggressiveness becomes a very useful tool, allowing them to express hostility without appearing hostile. They punish others while preserving plausible deniability (“I didn’t mean it like that”) and maintain superiority while provoking insecurity in others. The narcissist employs passive aggression from entitlement and resentment; the ordinary practitioner does so out of fear of conflict.
The remedy for the ordinary man or woman—there is no hope for the narcissist; theirs is a lifelong affliction—is therapy. Yes, dear reader. If you have noticed that you can be passive aggressive, then you must dredge up the feelings that torture you. You must make sense of them, not bury them.
Like the narcissist, there is little hope for the hardened Brit. British society prizes politeness over truth, as well as a deep commitment to emotional restraint. Feelings aren’t expressed; they’re managed, filed away, and leaked through sarcasm. It’s why our humour and satire are world-class. We have mastered the art of the smart and subtle dig.
For those of you loose of tongue, or from Mediterranean or Latin cultures where feelings are never buried but worn on both sleeves at all times, you’re probably feeling rather chuffed. I do not suffer from PA, you are thinking. But we have all, at one time or another, suffered from it. PA seeps into the blood like a poison when you find yourself in that very specific environment in which it thrives: the office workplace.
The office requires a professional approach to relationships, and passive aggressiveness is its inevitable side effect. Unless you control the majority voting shares of the company in which you work, there is someone to whom you answer, and that person controls your mood like a puppet master.
An example: you and your partner find a good deal for a holiday to Marrakech. Living in London, where a pay cheque rarely stretches beyond a fortnight, deals must be seized. You approach your line manager and ask for the time off. The dates are specific; such is the nature of the deal. Your manager removes his or her glasses, leans back in his or her chair, sighs, tuts, and tells you the dates are not ideal. There are Excel sheets that need filling in by month end. Sorry—you’ll have to choose another time.
But there is no other time, you explain; the deal has fixed dates. Your plea, however, falls on unsympathetic ears, and so you muster a quivering smile, say no problem, and let Marrakech slip through your fingers. Back at your desk, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, you bury the resentment you feel towards your line manager, who has contributed fuck all to the company’s bottom line since filling all the positions on the team.
Your mood for the rest of the day is sour. You respond to your co-workers in monosyllables. Your emails are spicy: “As per my last email…” and “I trust this is now clear…”, and you stop short of thanking the barista who serves your coffee, resentful of the relaxed smile on his face. This is the dirty sin of which we have all been guilty, and the one Moses, in all his wisdom, foresaw when he picked up that stone tablet.
Like all sins, PA is here to stay. But if you place currency on your mental and physical wellbeing, be aware of its signs, unclench your sphincter, and for God’s sake, talk about how you really feel.