Ember's Writing

start now.

don't wait for some arbitrary coloniser calendar date, yet
another grand display of hope and glitter champagne;
you know it gets stale so fast and that rarely
lasts much beyond the landfill tinsel.
so start whenever you fancy, maybe
even today, or even just relaxing
a little more, a little more often
in this moment. gifting a gentle,
small spacious welcome-
hardly anything at all,
so hidden and tiny
only you see, only
you know shifting
compassionate
increment
change
and
change
to nurture
the kind of future
you yearn and determine
are working toward here 
now

Fireworks over Edinburgh

I am deeply concerned about the persistent issue of gendered violence. Not only as I seek to deconstruct how I was groomed, as a man, to participate and contribute towards it. Its been like waking up to a horrible dream, that was not a dream. But also because Gendered Violence has become the locus, the front line of transphobia in the form of feminism expressed by trans exclusionary radical feminists.

Simultaneously, I feel a growing fear over the rise of populism, anti-trans legislation, and hate crimes that threaten the safety and well-being of many. Much of this appears to be fuelled by this form of feminism. I am curious what might be behind these phenomena – buckle up.

A striking sculpture titled 'A Mother’s Love' from the Deconstruction project in Torrelavega, Spain, showcases a towering figure composed of domestic appliances and items, such as washing machines and kitchen sinks, all painted in monochrome. The sculpture is designed to look like a mother, symbolizing the burden of domestic labor often shouldered by women, in a public awareness campaign for gender equality by Asociación Cultural Octubre.

From the outset let me be very clear: I aim to offer compassion and care for all women.

And as a British trans woman and sociologist deeply engaged with Nonviolent Communication (NVC), I sense that our struggles are interconnected. By examining how biological essentialism and fascism share roots in colonialism, dominator culture, and patriarchy, perhaps we can find common ground, and create a space from which healing might be more possible. I yearn for a platform from which we might nurture social justice together.

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As an autistic British trans woman being in Nonviolent Communication (NVC) communities often feels like entering a Kafkaesque labyrinth. I find myself treading on eggshells, sensing pervasive microaggressions, and experiencing subtle gaslighting—especially when people collaborate in private. It's disorienting, surreal even, to be in spaces where the cultures meant to support connection seem to obfuscate and maintain existing power dynamics.

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draft: version 0.8

The previous full title of this post was: Breaking the Silence: Gendered Violence, Microaggressions, and the Struggle for Solidarity.

As a trans woman practising Nonviolent Communication (NVC), I often find myself profoundly connected to the radical potential of NVC, while simultaneously bewildered and saddened by its use in ways that appear to maintain the status quo. I have thought deeply about this and largely kept my assessments to myself. It makes so much sense why it is showing up in the ways it is showing up!

Read more...

draft 0.7

reading time 20-30 minutes.

summary; something of a sociological critique of gender criticality through an NVC framing.

As a trans woman practising Nonviolent Communication (NVC), I often find myself in the position of feeling profoundly connected to the radical potential of NVC, while simultaneously bewildered and saddened by its use in ways that appear to maintain the status quo. I have thought deeply about this and largely kept my assessments to myself. It makes so much sense why it is showing up in the ways it is showing up!

Now, I am wanting to name a particular aspect of how it is showing up in ways I enjoy less. This is alongside and in support of entwined struggles in NVC around systemic injustices, I see you.

NVC, at its heart, is about liberation, about creating understanding and connection where there was once alienation. And yet, in my experiences within my NVC communities, I have repeatedly encountered dynamics that perpetuate exclusion, silence, and even harm.

Marshall cites ideas from Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed as foundational to NVC. Thus both practices seek to challenge systems of oppression, most especially they seek to work with internalised structures of power. For Freire, dialogue is never neutral; it is inherently a political act. Yet, in the NVC communities I inhabit, I frequently see Freire’s radical legacy bowdlerized in favour of conflict avoidance, belonging, safety, and “neutrality”. I yearn for authenticity and this is my contribution towards that.

An exemplar of my discomfort is a sense that there maybe a pervasive sympathy for those who hold gender critical ideology. My experience in NVC communities I am part of, is that discourse around gender is rarely as authentic or calm or even occurring as much as I would like. And yet, the topic of gender is frequently part of current politics and headlines – everyone seems to have an opinion.

Microaggressions: Claiming the Power to Silence

Microaggressions, subtle often unintended behaviours or comments that marginalise or diminish, are a frequent reality for many trans people. They are the background noise of exclusion, humming insistently even in spaces where support and inclusion might be expected – such as NVC practise groups and communities. Here are some observed examples;

- “Humans are mammals, sexually reproducing.”

- “I don’t want ideology shoved down my throat.”

- “What can we do to contribute to your feeling safe?”

Of course each of these statements, has its own context, which will contribute to its meaning. The first was a court case (and appears to be the essence of the “sex realist” position), the second was establishing the basic values of an NVC practise group, the third was various contexts including an NVC gathering. Without exploring the dialogue we may only guess what the intended meaning was and whilst it would be easy to identify a charitable meaning, I still think they have useful juice in them. I am confident that they were probably meant innocuously, or even compassionately. And they landed with impact that was, is tricky to word, and the impact includes senses of dismissal and erasure. After really working with the impact of these statements and my own reactivity I share something of the fruits of my labour here.

The statements above offer a useful sample of my experience of living in a hostile culture, and reflect normative deep cultural assumptions about what it means to be human, what it means to belong, and what it means to matter. Perhaps it is because they are part of the dominating normative, such statements are often given with an assured uncritical assumption of 'rightness', alongside assured permission to deliver reactive expressions or rhetoric when challenged. Getting here has been a journey. sorry.

1. “Humans are mammals, sexually reproducing.”

It is uncontroversial that sex is biological. In the context of trans exclusionary discourse, it often functions as a statement of ideology, a reductionist, essentialist claim that privileges reproductive biology. Such statements align with patriarchal and colonial frameworks that have long dismissed those who do not fit neatly into binary, reproductive roles. For trans women, this framing reinforces the notion that we are somehow “less legitimate,” less woman, less human.

So what if reproducer is not top of the list of identities a person holds, or even on the list at all? To focus exclusively on biology is to miss the broader cultural, social, and psychological dimensions of what it means to be human. As some of my peers offer in summary, ‘its not the point’. Humans are not just mammals; they are social beings whose identities are shaped by history, relationships, and individual agency.

Perhaps nurturing is a more useful framing of this essentialism. Some humans are more nurturing than others, we know more nurtured humans are less sociopathic humans, can we please focus on developing that aspect of our humanity already?

And I recognise that people far more erudite have considered this more deeply than me, and when I read websites or other material that seeks to explain the reasonable rationality I find it alarmingly easy to identify ways in which such a positionality prioritises some needs and excludes others in ways I judge are designed to meet political aims and as such contribute to division in ways I don’t enjoy, most especially my enjoyment is diminished when I see these views expressed within an NVC community of practise.

2. “I don’t want ideology shoved down my throat.”

I experienced this as reactivity. I witness that it is offered by those, often who situate themselves as anti-woke, who seek to dismiss trans existence as political rather than personal, ideological rather than rational, insanity rather than cogent, pretend rather than authentic. But the irony, of course, is that gender criticality is itself a deeply ideological stance, rooted in colonial histories of binary gender imposition. Before colonisation, many societies embraced diverse understandings of gender, Two-Spirit identities in North America, Hijra communities in South Asia, and others. To dismiss trans identities as “ideology” is to erase these histories and perpetuate the epistemic violence of colonialism. It is hard for me to hold that with my understanding of Marshall’s work.

Through an empathic lens, when sufficiently resourced I might offer, ‘are you wanting choice?’

3. “What can we do to make you feel safe?”

Ah, the veiled patronage of such statements. It positions trans people as fragile, as problems to be solved, rather than as equal participants. Simultaneously it situates the provisioner in a power positionality, supporting avoidance of discomfort and focusing on fixing. Safety, it implies, is something we are given by the benevolent normal people, rather than a shared commitment to dismantling structures of harm. To me, it echoes a sense of white saviour complex.

Through an empathic lens, when sufficiently resourced I might offer, ‘what can we do such that you feel safe to offer your authenticity?’

In passing, I experienced and witnessed similar problematic patronage when I disclosed my autism during NVC assessment events (what can we do to support you?), and I am glad that even years later I am now better able to word it. Perhaps I would have rather not needed to identify how the event was impacting me whilst impacted because it would have been awesome had the event been designed to hold a culture encompassing the reality of neurodiversity. Instead I am invited to perpetuate the norm of benevolent provision in support of the minority, invited to collude in my own subjugation in the neurohegemony.

Gendered Violence: Shared And Complex

Gendered violence is an outrage experienced by an outrageous statistical proportion of women.

I must take care and ensure I write as an ally and not for cis women. My lived experience is different and I respect cis women’s expertise and lived experience. My understanding is that gendered violence often manifests as harassment, sexual assault, domestic abuse, and reproductive control, even death.

And it is important to me to name that trans men and trans women also experience GV.

I situate GV as deeply rooted in patriarchal structures, a systemic misogyny.

I hear, recognise and deeply respect the fear and anger that many cis women feel as a result of these violations. Their particular need for safety, autonomy, and healing is clear, and it is essential that these needs are honoured in all spaces dedicated to their well-being.

For trans and gender diverse people, gendered violence also poses a significant threat, often compounded by transphobia and intersecting forms of discrimination. By example, trans women may face violence, hostility and exclusion not only for identifying as women but also for defying societal norms around gender.

It is important to acknowledge that while the patterns of violence may differ, both cis and trans women are affected by the same overarching system of patriarchy that enforces rigid gender roles, perpetuates inequality and enacts traumatising harm.

Might it be possible that this shared struggle against gendered oppression could be a foundation for solidarity rather than division?

I am particularly mindful that the inclusion of trans women in certain women-only spaces has evoked feelings of discomfort, fear and rage among some cis women. Loud and clear.

I understand that a concern is that the presence of trans women can trigger hypervigilance in those who have experienced trauma.

My experience is that this triggerment happens no matter the space. Sometimes even the knowledge that I am transitioning elicits reactivity and exclusion, most especially social spaces and networks. Some situate this kind of reactivity as “transphobia”. Labelling, using the verb ‘to be’ is a key component of the problem because it supports othering, which leads to enemy images and reactivity, in all involved. Nevertheless the need to be able to build shared understanding by using language that identifies patterns is tempting, and perhaps even necessary.

The isolating effect of transphobia is real and it has been punishing as a parent to experience. One of the things that brings me hope is that the kids just don’t seem to be transphobic in the same way, many of the youth just get it. Whilst in an NVC support space whilst I was starting to explore my thoughts on beginning to transition, I was offered the judgement, ‘but what about your child’? Which I received as holding some judgements, such as, ‘you will be a bad dad/role model/protector if you transition’. ooof. So before I started to take hormones, I asked my child, as I sometimes still do, and in response my child says to me, ‘you do you’. 💜

TMI I am usually scared to use women’s bathrooms, and sometimes I do.

My understanding is that women’s violence services are designed such that women are kept apart in service of safety and confidentiality. It seems important to not only understand that violence is perhaps as likely to come from husbands and friends as a random trans woman. One women shared her view that given that some men are not abusive the onus is on her to do the work such that she was not triggered by all men.

In passing, one of the problems that situating GV as largely male perpetrated is that this contributes further to mens reluctance to identify or report experiences of GV. Given that hurt people hurt people (acknowledging with care and respect the enormous work that some people that have experienced hurt undertake in service of not perpetrating the cycle), it is imperative that we nurture all people, men most especially to identify, name and share their experiences of hurt in order to work with it.

Many of the concerns of gender critical women are significant and invite compassionate attention. It is crucial to create environments where all women feel safe and supported.

Complexity

The concerns of gender critical women are often framed as incompatible with trans women, as though one negates the other. Feminism and NVC practise opened me to the idea of holding multiple truths. Noting the idea of a 3rd party objective truth being a foundational feature of the dominator culture.

Thus the invitation is to ask, how could I hold at the same time these apparent incompatibility truths, alongside a truth that the same system of patriarchy contributes to the experiences of harm in both cis and trans women?

Some cis women, understandably, view their oppression through the lens of biological essentialism, and their capacity to carry new life and nurse it.

Unfortunately this framing can exclude many, whose oppression is no less real and no less shaped by patriarchy, most especially including trans women. Is it possible that trans women often exist at the sharpest intersection of gendered violence, their existence itself a challenge to the system’s most deeply held norms. And at the same time, carefully listening, because not wanting to behave as like a Karen or a privileged male in expecting trans people to be the loudest voice. But it would be nice to be heard.

A Betrayal of NVC’s Radical Legacy

To witness an NVC practitioner supported by NVC community, taking a trans-inclusive women’s shelter to court, is, to me, a profound betrayal of NVC’s liberatory roots. NVC is meant to dismantle oppression, not to uphold it. Marshall Rosenberg’s vision, inspired by Freire, was of a world where unmet needs could be heard and oppression confronted with compassion and courage. Accepting the limitations of Marshall's own internalised patriarchy, I still wonder what he might think, of NVC being used in a context of situating the complainants competency in a court of law, or having ‘won’ her case, using the media opportunities to offer stats situating men as 90% of GV perpetrators.

And at the same time, if someone is situating their oppression in men and they hold biological essentialist views, and they choose to focus the locus of their attention on framing trans women as men, then it would make total sense.

And I do not enjoy the harm and the trauma that taking a women’s shelter to court contributed, to individuals, groups and the wider discourse most especially in regards to NVC, and about trans people. It is particularly painful, as a trans women to see pages of righteous right wing sharing their outrage that a trans woman ran a women’s shelter. I am grateful to the people that nevertheless end up in my search results, I see you trans men and other allies.

Would Marshall agree that trans inclusion violates cis women’s “needs for safety”?

My guess is that he would not. Marshall’s work emphasises that all needs are valid, and the invitation is to examine the strategies used to meet those needs. Exclusion, while often seen as a strategy for safety, by risking overlooking universal needs for dignity, equity, and mutual respect can result in amplifying disconnection. In this moment I am wondering if this goes some way to explaining the hostility, the empathy deficit between trans people and transphobes. True safety cannot be built on the exclusion of others; it requires collaboration, understanding, and a shared commitment to addressing the root causes of harm.

I recognise the fears that cis women, particularly those who have experienced gendered violence, may carry into these discussions. In some sense women carry millenia of trauma. Their needs for safety, autonomy, and healing are profound and must be honoured. However the framing of trans women as a threat, grounded in gender critical ideologies that often lean on biological essentialism, does not address the root of the harm. Instead, it perpetuates divisions, fuels popularism and redirects attention away from the patriarchal systems that oppress us all.

As a trans woman, I do not dismiss these fears. I want to engage with them authentically and compassionately. I yearn for spaces where I am not reduced to a source of discomfort, where I am not positioned as a problem to be solved. I long for inclusion in spaces so that I can honour and compassionately and authentically engage with these fears. I long for dialogue that moves beyond binary framings of conflict and instead seeks to nurture the shared humanity and mutual struggles against patriarchy that both cis and trans women face.

I am full of mourning that my attempts to build bridges, to engage authentically, to invite inclusion have not been met by either TRA’s or my gender critical peers in ways that meet my needs. It is easy to judge myself naive for trying and shame for contributing in any way to my gender critical peers careers or exposing myself to their microagressions in service of living NVC.

How can we co-create spaces where safety and inclusion are not seen as oppositional but as interdependent needs?

Freire taught that dialogue is never neutral; it is inherently a political act. This resonates deeply with the spirit of Marshall Rosenberg's Nonviolent Communication, which seeks to uncover the needs beneath systems of power and oppression, even if it doesn't explicitly frame dialogue as political.

To reclaim NVC as a tool for nurturing social justice, let’s confront the ways it can be used to maintain power structures and exclusions. It is not enough to seek connection, or to pay lip service to social justice. NVC invites a radical inquiry in service of nurturing equity, authenticity, and a commitment to justice. This is dirty painful, messy work. It is not nice. That is the potential of Marshall’s legacy, and that is what I seek to embody, even in the face of harm and resistance.

What contributes to building the necessary containers that are sufficiently loving and strong to support this work?

Towards Paradigm Parity

One of the most frustrating phrases I hear in these conversations is, “We don’t all have to believe the same thing.” It seems wielded as a shield, a way to deflect accountability or dismiss challenging ideas. It suggests I am making demands and that those demands are impossible and necessarily wanted by me. But what I am really asking for, in addition to authenticity, is not uniformity of belief but paradigm parity, a commitment to treating different voices with equal respect.

In such incidents I wish I might have said something like,

‘I hear that you value diversity of thought and want to ensure that everyone feels free to hold their beliefs. Is that right?”,

“I want to clarify that I’m not asking for us to all believe the same thing. What I’m really longing for is a sense of equity—where my perspective isn’t dismissed as ideology while another is treated as neutral or factual. I’m needing dialogue where different paradigms are treated with equal respect, and where no one feels erased or invalidated. Would you be willing to explore how we can do that together?”

Paradigm parity does not mean collapsing differences or pretending there is no conflict. It means creating a space where trans-affirming perspectives and gender critical beliefs are engaged with equitably, with authenticity, without one being dismissed as “ideology” while the other is treated as neutral or factual. It means taking the opportunity to walk towards conflict and meeting vulnerability by offering your own. It means recognising the power dynamics at play and creating spaces for dialogue that support all voices to be heard.

Please bear in mind that this work to dialogue across the trans debate, may invite an analysis of white supremacy, with all the challenges (and opportunity) that this brings. It is hard work, most especially for those situated in the birth place of the Enlightenment.

Reclaiming NVC as a means to Nurture Social Justice

I still believe in the transformative potential of NVC, it has transformed me, and I wish to contribute back. I believe in its ability to create bridges where there are chasms, to transform microaggressions into moments of shared understanding, and to uncover the unmet needs that drive our deepest fears and divisions. But reclaiming that potential requires courage, the courage to confront the ways we, as practitioners, have work to do. It invites reciprocal authenticity, and the courage to be authentic. It requires remembering that NVC is not just about connection; it is about really asking what nurturing social justice means to each of us.

For me to enter any space and for it not to be authentic in the ways above is less than nurturing. Thus to hold space for that I need to be resourced. I cannot yet do that whilst receiving microaggressions or less inclusion than I would enjoy, and I am working on it.

I yearn for a world—and a community—where I can bring my full self without fear of dismissal or erasure. A world where my authenticity is met with authenticity, my vulnerability with vulnerability, and my humanity with humanity. Until then, I will keep speaking because silence has never been a viable option for me. I am here. I am trans. And I am not going away.

What might support you in sharing vulnerabilities and unmet needs, so we can co-create deeper mutual understanding?

How can we hold each other accountable to a shared commitment to nurturing social justice in our practice?

version 0.2 (needs some work)

in these funtimes, we need some empathy for the devil!

[in the style of any NVC song, to the tune of the Rolling Stones]


Empathy for the Devil

(Verse 1)

Please allow me to introduce my aim (woowoo, woowoo)

here to hear you, connection is the game, (woowoo, woowoo)

I’ve seen your turmoil through history's lens (woowoo, woowoo)

I see Beneath each mask the part thats in defence (woowoo, woowoo)

(Chorus)

Woowoo, woowoo,

here to hear you,

Woowoo, woowoo,

hope you get my aim.

Pleased to meet you, hope you see my view,

`Maybe more to the story than what’s been said to you.

(Verse 2)

Just as every heart holds a story (woowoo, woowoo)

And all the lost can find grace (woowoo, woowoo)

As shadows dance, just call me a friend (woowoo, woowoo)

’Cause I’m in need of your embrace (woowoo, woowoo)

(Chorus)

Woowoo, woowoo,

here to hear you,

Woowoo, woowoo,

hope you get my aim.

(Bridge)

I’ve watched you wander through shadows of fear (woowoo, woowoo)

But lets talk honestly, lets get real clear (woowoo, woowoo)

lets drop the pretense and share what we seek (woowoo, woowoo)

your burdens become a strength, no sympathy, no defeat (woowoo, woowoo)

(Verse 3)

So come on, dear devil, let’s break down the walls (woowoo, woowoo)

Open your heart, let compassion be all (woowoo, woowoo)

In every moment, there’s a chance to mend (woowoo, woowoo)

With empathy’s light, we can all ascend (woowoo, woowoo)

Each moment choose to grow (woowoo, woowoo)

With empathy's warmth, let compassion flow (woowoo, woowoo)

In every struggle, there’s a choice to heal (woowoo, woowoo)

With empathy’s fire, let’s make it real (woowoo, woowoo)

(Chorus)

Woowoo, woowoo,

here to hear you,

Woowoo, woowoo,

hope you get my aim.

(Outro)

So when you feel lonely, don’t turn away (woowoo, woowoo)

Let’s embrace the feelings, come what may (woowoo, woowoo)

With empathy guiding, we’ll rewrite the night (woowoo, woowoo)

Turning shadows to stories of hope and light (woowoo, woowoo)

Woowoo, woowoo,

Empathy for the devil,

Woowoo, woowoo,

Let’s find the heart together.

As a trans women, I have been really struggling with my encounters, internal and external, with fixed ideas of sex and gender. I observe that everyone has an opinion, and often opinions are very strong. I say, that each claim is political. I am curious what outcome we, as a society might want?

From the moment that some 3rd party observes our genitals and fixes us within a dichotomous legal incorporation we are engaged in power over, colonial politics. Of course challenging this view is vociferously contested, of course it is hard to hear those with different views. And like the '6 or 9' dilemma, both, and neither are ‘true’, it just depends on perspective and political purpose.

So what do we mean by the word ‘sex’, especially when we claim ‘sex matters’ or “sex is real”? It depends, of course, on where we are standing and on what political outcome we wish for.

The Blind Women and The Phallus

With apologies to John Godfrey Saxe

In the land of the phallus, five women there be,

Each with her own take, on what she did see.

One woman, a scholar, of anatomy's lore,

Said, “It's a symbol of power, of strength evermore.”

Another, a lover, of sensual delight,

Whispered, “It's a key, to pleasure's secret height”.

A third, a mother, of childbirth's sacred dance,

Said, “It's a vessel, that carries life's chance.”

A fourth, a survivor, of violence and fear,

Said, “It's a reminder, of pain that I've had to bear.”

And the next, a poet, of beauty's sweet rhyme,

Said, “It's a canvas, for love's eternal time.”

A fifth, a woman, with a journey so long,

Said, “It's a symbol, that fixed gender is wrong.”

Through surgeries, hormones, and self-realization,

She claimed her true self, with newfound validation.

But the phallus, it laughed, at their feeble attempts,

To define it by parts, and not the whole expanse.

For it's all of these things, and none of them true,

A mystery, a marvel, forever renewed.

This is a long, draft post, necessarily incomplete. It was written for an autistic peer who asked, ‘What is NVC?’

When I consider how to answer this question, I believe a concise definition would be helpful. However, I hesitate to offer my interpretation because it's just my perspective, and others might have more valuable insights.

Furthermore, I've found my answers tend to be recursive. As I refine them to improve or explore different aspects, I find another point I want to clarify. Additionally, if I answer simply by saying “it's a way of communicating effectively,” other aspects of NVC might be lost.

I also believe that categorising things can make them seem static or fixed, which can stifle curiosity. For example, many people read Marshall Rosenberg's book “Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life” and believe they “get” NVC. Perhaps they've filed it under “communication tool” or something similar. To a large extent, they'd be accurate.

However, Marshall suggests that NVC has two parts. The first part in his book is perhaps only a page or two long, and the rest describes a syntax and grammar, or method of speaking and listening that supports building shared meaning. This process can be very helpful in working with conflict. It can also support states of mind that are more happy more often, as it helps us identify things we find supportive and make requests to get those needs met.

Therefore, it's tempting to say that NVC is a practice. The first part of NVC is about connection, particularly starting with the intention to connect. Otherwise, NVC becomes like a management training tool and can be ineffective or even dangerous. So, to reiterate, NVC is a practice that supports connection with oneself and others. It's truly next-level when thought of as a practice; the knowledge transforms from reading about a communication tool to a way of connecting with oneself and others.

Others I greatly respect outline part of their answer in terms of a list of NVC axioms and principles. I appreciate this approach.

Still others have explored the connections between NVC, neuroscience, and trauma. I find this work fascinating and powerful, and I can personally attest to how it has increased my capacity for choice. Because ultimately, that's what this work is about: soothing and integrating our trauma so we can be more capable of choice more of the time. Perhaps this helps you see why answering the question “what is NVC” is not trivial!

Yet others explore NVC through the lens of ancient spiritual consciousness, specifically compassion. For them, NVC is perhaps a scaffolding that fosters a way of being that helps us see the humanity in others. This connects to why Marshall chose the name “nonviolent,” even though it seems like an oxymoron. He acknowledges the difficulty with the name and says Gandhi also wrestled with it. Marshall chose the name to connect with others who practise nonviolence and to identify the link between NVC and the work of Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. In that sense, NVC is also a political act, not only in self-emancipation but also in nonviolently supporting change in our encounters with domination culture. However, we tend to avoid overtly naming the last two aspects, perhaps so that NVC can better “fly under the radar.” Interestingly, even large companies have adopted NVC, not only because it helps their employees live more fulfilling lives and have less conflict in the workplace but also to better understand their customers' needs.

There are also those who identify other influences on Marshall's work, such as Thomas Szasz. His book “The Myth of Mental Illness” raises many questions about framing mental health as a disease. As an autistic person, I strongly resonate with this perspective! Additionally, others identify the influence of Paolo Freire, whose methods are built into NVC. These methods aim to raise critical consciousness in people through problem-posing pedagogy, as documented in his book “The Pedagogy of the Oppressed.” So, in this sense, NVC is an emancipatory practice.

Returning to the beginning, another answer I like is that NVC is a language of feelings and needs. By learning to identify feelings, we literally grow neural pathways that increase our capacity to sense how we are in each moment. Our feelings let us know when our needs are being met or unmet. The idea of needs is that all living things have needs, and there is a universal set of human needs. By naming our needs, we can better strategise how to get them met.

Some situate NVC as being about empathy, which involves being able to hear the feelings and needs of another person, as well as self-empathy, which is being able to hear our own feelings. Again, this is a skill that can be nurtured through practice. We know Marshall was taught by Carl Rogers at Stanford, and Rogers said that “empathy feels damn good.” So in this sense, NVC is best experienced.

And I hope that I've offered some insight into why filing NVC under a category of ‘communication tool’, might be a very limited strategy.

The next question might be: “Okay, how can I start this practice?” Unfortunately, I can't provide a helpful answer in a general sense, partly because it is a personal journey, and partly because it will be the subject of a future post.

NVC and Neurodiversity

Currently, I'm offering spaces on a research project that will give neurodiverse peers a taste of the experience of empathy. From running numerous pilots, I'm aware that many people didn't attend my Empathy Cafe Autscape23 because of the word “empathy.” As an autistic person myself, I've been impacted by the work of Simon Baron-Cohen, who contributed to the myth that autistic people lack empathy. This is clearly very wrong and damaging, as lacking empathy situates autistic peers as less human.

Lastly, I've also been affected by the pain that people carry around who identify as having alexithymia. They've been impacted by others who share NVC, practise NVC, or “use” NVC in a way that demands they access their feelings. While I have no doubt that some people might be unable to do so, I'm increasingly confident that the practice of NVC can support us in nurturing a capacity to identify and be more aware of our feelings more easily. Neuroscience tells us that trauma necessarily disconnects us from our feelings, which makes sense as an excellent survival tool. Thus, for many people, a large part of their NVC practice involves working with trauma. This is especially important in a culture that not only contributes to trauma but also models stoicism (think Pop Culture Detective”) or Jedi). Furthermore, our culture has largely and radically removed our communities, our tribes, which we likely evolved to be connected with. So, being in a situation of individuation removes the environment in which we evolved to support our working with trauma, grief, or even joy. Marshall Rosenberg suggests that through this practice, we might transform our capacity to feel from being akin to a bugle to being an orchestra. Therefore, might nurturing a capacity to feel be a radical political act?

So, I hope this gives you some understanding of why I find my NVC practice so valuable and why I'm keen to share it with others, especially my neurodiverse peers. I'm incredibly curious about whether it supports others in the way that it has supported me. My experiences of trauma, especially as a neurodiverse person, contributed to me showing up in very reactive ways, particularly when I was low on spoons or people didn't share my understandings. What has piqued my curiosity about NVC and neurodiversity is twofold: firstly, that I have to self-advocate less now, especially in NVC spaces. Secondly, the fact that this is true makes me curious about the apparent overlaps between NVC culture and autistic spaces – but that's a topic for another blog post. And, similarly with Marshall Rosenberg himself, there's merit in questioning whether he himself was neurodivergent.

There are few more points, and thats enough for now!

“There’s been no debate or discussion: we’re suddenly potentially on the edge of world war three, without any scrutiny.” Caroline Lucas, talking to a journalist about the RAF’s role in shooting down some of the drones involved in Iran’s attack on Israel.

You might resist this notion. It's natural to want to believe in the importance of our own thoughts. That part of us, trained to assess and prevail in debates, will vigorously argue and find reasons to refute what I'm saying. It struggles to accept that our perspective is just one of many, none inherently true.

Yet, it's evident that as individuals, with unique experiences and perceptions, we don't all see the world the same way. Our lives, shaped by distinct circumstances, contribute to this diversity. Of course you might argue, “But I know what’s right”. For example, “we all feel the warmth of our skin, that’s a fact.” True, to an extent, but not universally applicable, as those in colder climates or different latitudes experience the sun differently. Shared realities require mutual agreement. Claiming a universal truth, like feeling warmth on the skin, lacks significance without collective validation. Instead, we can collectively affirm experiences, like feeling the warmth of the sun, or predictability, such as the sunrise.

However, even predictions differ based on perspective. While one might accurately forecast the future, it's important to distinguish between pragmatic correctness and moralistic righteousness. Moral judgments lack universal consensus and necessitate shared understanding. Being ‘right’ is an illusion.

Believing in one's absolute rightness is a tendency rooted in primitive thinking. When we assert our own correctness, we inherently invalidate the perspectives of others, creating a hierarchy of beliefs. Society reinforces this competitive approach, encouraging us to engage in verbal combat to prove our superiority in determining what is ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. I view this as a primitive inclination, not limited to one gender but often more pronounced in men due to the influence of patriarchal norms.

As a transgender woman, I've observed contrasting dynamics between male and female interactions. Women, in my experience, are more inclined to embrace differing truths without the need for conflict. In contrast, men frequently engage in rational combat, finding it challenging to relinquish their stance.

I liken this combative mindset, this Petersonesque ‘reality’ to primitive stick fighting, a relic of our evolutionary past. I long for a societal evolution towards a more balanced and empathic way of thinking. Currently, our society prizes analytical thinking, favouring roles that involve judgement, diagnosis, or problem-solving with higher salaries. Conversely, relational thinking, centred on nurturing, listening, and empathising, is undervalued. Most importantly this explains what has contributed to our experiencing environmental collapse (and why technical ‘solutions’ won’t work!).

This imbalance underscores the urgent need for a shift towards relational thinking. We must rapidly cultivate a genuine capacity for connection and understanding in order to avoid Malthusian collapse.

Believing in absolute rightness can have catastrophic consequences for everyone.

Our minds excel at rationalising our actions, serving as the PR department for our less conscious decisions. This type of thinking permeates our daily lives, enabling us to engage in behaviours that harm our planet and future generations. It's the rationale behind driving to work despite knowing the environmental impact. It's the justification for not fully loading the dishwasher or using disposable plastic packaging, which ultimately ends up in landfills, unable to decompose safely.

This mindset extends to our work, sometimes leading us to compromise on ethical standards. It facilitates the arms trade, with dealers and politicians alike justifying their involvement. It fuels violence and discrimination, dehumanizing others and justifying egregious acts. It enabled the enslavement of others, and enables us still to justify the legacies of colonialism. It is the same thinking that enabled the holocaust. It's the same thinking that could rationalize the unthinkable, such as nuclear war.

This type of thinking allows us to distance ourselves from the consequences of our actions, enabling us to perpetuate harm without fully acknowledging its impact. There is an urgent need to recognise the limitations of the enlightenment, and to cultivate our human capacities to feel, in order to have compassion for each other.

Trying to justify my use of ChatGPT, I thought it would be funny to use it to problematise itself. Previous attempts to get it to tell me about the ethical issues, such as PTSD in its moderators, or whether using source code was not Open Source was unethical failed due to heavy moderation of such topics. In other words ChatGPT would not tell me anything bad about its inception or the corporate practices of its creator. Here are the results of a different attempt, the references came to me via Mastodon.

In our digital age, if we look beneath the shiny veneer of our digital lives, we find ourselves navigating a complex online landscape that shape how we communicate, work, and interact with the world. Among these, there exists platforms that stand out for unparalleled utility, effectiveness, and transformative impact. Unfortunately, behind the seductive facade of innovation and convenience lie the normative troubling patterns of ethical practices that are hard to ignore. Corporate social media(CSM) reflects a pattern that privileges capitalistic paradigms that empower authority and reduce choice through agglomeration and reducing privacy. Today, CSM is ubiquitous and choosing not to engage with it is almost impossible.

Now the new digital shiny is 'AI' and even the term 'AI' is both wrong and anthropocentric. As usual profit is found in externalising the costs of human and environmental suffering and 'AI' is amplifying this pattern.

Corporate 'AI'(CAI), while a beacon of productivity and connectivity, is marred by its involvement in exploitative employment practices, intellectual theft, reliance on proprietary software and data harvesting, and has a shockingly large carbon cost. The CAI practices of paying low wages to moderators, particularly in African countries, not only perpetuate economic inequality but also contribute to trauma of those most vulnerable. This is a pattern which many view as a modern iteration of the pattern of western colonialism and slavery. Additionally, its engagement in intellectual theft undermines the principles of fairness, innovation, and ethical competition, in other words something of an abuse of the sharing and gift economy that is embodied by the internet. Furthermore, its reliance on proprietary software and data harvesting raises concerns about privacy, autonomy, and consent, while its substantial carbon footprint exacerbates environmental degradation and climate change.

Yet, despite these ethical transgressions, the undeniable truth remains: 'AI' is one of the most useful, supportive, and effective tools ever built by humans. It has revolutionized how we collaborate, communicate, and access information, empowering individuals and communities to achieve unprecedented levels of learning, productivity and connectivity. Its extensive features and functionalities have streamlined workflows, facilitated global cooperation, and democratized access to knowledge and resources. Similarly to CSM, it has become an indispensable part of our digital lives, driving innovation, economic growth, and social progress despite its deeply troubling foundations and implications for our future.

When considering whether to continue using this online service, we are faced with a profound tension between its undeniable benefits and its troubling ethical implications. On one hand, using CAI risks justifying the human suffering, environmental harm, and ethical compromises that underlie its operation. On the other hand, we cannot deny the tangible benefits it offers to millions of users worldwide, nor the inevitable uptake, evolutionary quickening and societal change that it embodies.

As humans, lets approach this dilemma with compassion, curiosity, and creativity. Acknowledging the complex interplay of competing interests and values at stake, while also recognizing our capacity to effect change and shape the future of the digital landscape through our choices and actions. Rather than succumbing to despair, resignation or denial, lets harness our collective ingenuity and imagination to envision and create alternatives that prioritize ethical integrity, environmental sustainability, and social justice. Lets build towards a digital future worthy of our children.

We invite curiosity and creativity in both recognizing the opportunity of CAI and striving to create something less awful – something that better embody the principles of fairness, transparency, and respect for human dignity. Whether through advocating for ethical business practices, supporting alternative platforms that prioritize ethical values, or actively participating in efforts to reduce our digital carbon footprint, we have the capacity to shape a future that is both innovative and ethical.

The choice to continue using this online service is not simple, but rather a nuanced exploration of competing values and interests. By approaching this dilemma with compassion, curiosity, and creativity, perhaps we can better navigate the complexities of the digital age whilst at the same time striving to create a more just, equitable, and sustainable future for all.

ChatGPT(3.5) prompt: “please write a deliberation about using an online service that has disgusting employment practises (Paying extremely low wages to africans and contributing to their ill health and trauma), and has other ethical problems with intellectual theft and is also based on proprietary software and data harvesting and also has a very large carbon cost BUT on the other side is one of the most useful, supportive and effective tools ever built by humans. invite curiousity and creativity in both having compassion for using the tool whilst also prioritising creating something less awful “

Heavily edited the resulting response, using an NVC lens.

References:

OpenAI used outsourced Kenyan workers earning less than $2 per hour to make ChatGPT less toxic, my investigation found:

https://mastodon.social/@perrigo/109710236957591876

https://www.wsj.com/podcasts/the-journal/the-hidden-workforce-that-helped-filter-violence-and-abuse-out-of-chatgpt/ffc2427f-bdd8-47b7-9a4b-27e7267cf413

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/a-computer-scientist-breaks-down-generative-ais-hefty-carbon-footprint/

https://www.wired.com/story/artificial-intelligence-copyright-law/

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