There are people who are widely recognized as intellectuals in their respective fields—educated, analytical, academically accomplished. Yet one day, they begin speaking about music, a domain they may never have truly understood.

“If one string sounds out of tune,” they say, “it should simply be cut off. Why should the others adjust?”

The statement sounds decisive, even rational at first glance. But their understanding of harmony feels incomplete.

In music, a dissonant string is not immediately broken. It is retuned. Its source of imbalance is examined. Sometimes the problem is not the string itself. The distortion may come from a warped fret, a worn bridge, or even the instrument’s aging body.

But in this story, the so-called “dissonant string” is not cut away.

It chooses to detach itself.

Not because it believes it is entirely right, but because it no longer wishes to force itself into a false harmony. It no longer recognizes its own sound within the arrangement.

June 18: When Hatred No Longer Shouts—But Whispers

Every June 18, the world commemorates International Day for Countering Hate Speech.

Yet hate speech today rarely appears through loud insults or direct aggression. More often, it slips quietly into everyday interactions: a pointed WhatsApp status, a sarcastic joke, a collective narrative subtly isolating one individual.

Even spaces that claim to value empathy are not immune.

French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu described this phenomenon as symbolic violence—subtle forms of domination enacted through language, norms, and cultural expectations rather than physical force.

Psychology recognizes similar dynamics through concepts such as microaggression and relational aggression: forms of exclusion, reputation damage, and passive hostility that leave no visible bruises, yet slowly erode a person’s dignity and sense of belonging.

Perhaps the deepest irony is that such aggression is sometimes carried out by people who understand suffering the most—those who study trauma, teach empathy, or speak fluently about healing.

And perhaps because they understand wounds, they know exactly where to place them.

They understand how to harm quietly, invisibly, without ever appearing cruel.

As the saying goes:

Sometimes, those who know how to heal are also the most capable of hurting without leaving visible scars.

Tall Poppy Syndrome: When Excellence Becomes a Threat

Situations like these often emerge within systems that feel unsafe toward difference.

People who think critically, speak honestly, or create meaningful work are sometimes treated not as contributors, but as disruptions. Not because they are wrong, but because they shine too brightly within environments invested in maintaining the status quo.

This dynamic is known as Tall Poppy Syndrome—the tendency to “cut down” individuals who stand out too much.

Research has shown that success itself can provoke envy, which may later manifest as undermining behavior: subtle dismissal, passive hostility, or polite forms of exclusion hidden beneath social niceties.

Women frequently experience this more intensely.

Studies conducted by the Workplace Gender Equality Agency found that ambitious or highly visible women are often more vulnerable to social jealousy, exclusion, or being labeled “difficult” or “uncooperative.”

Similarly, surveys by the Tall Poppy Campaign revealed that many workers—particularly young women in education, healthcare, and creative industries—reported experiencing social diminishment because they were considered “too vocal,” “too creative,” or “too successful.”

These patterns are not limited to Western contexts. In many places, including Indonesia, individuals who express different perspectives or demonstrate visible achievement may quietly face social isolation.

Often, the “dissonant string” is not actually wrong.

It may simply be producing a clearer sound.

But not every environment welcomes clarity.

Instead of being retuned into harmony, difference is pushed aside.

Collective Silence as Psychological Violence

This condition resembles what organizational psychology describes as mobbing—a form of collective psychological aggression carried out through gossip, social pressure, and subtle exclusion.

No explicit insults are necessary.

Silence, avoidance, and certain looks can already communicate:
“You are no longer welcome here.”

When organizations fail to provide healthy spaces for growth and dialogue, people naturally develop adaptive responses.

Economist Albert O. Hirschman described four common reactions within failing systems:

exit,
voice,
loyalty,
and neglect.

What is often labeled as “problematic behavior” may actually represent a response to systems that refuse to listen.

From this perspective, being called a “dissonant string” may not indicate rebellion at all. It may instead signal the system’s inability to accommodate difference.

The theory of person–organization misfit similarly explains how conflicts emerge when an individual’s values fundamentally clash with organizational culture. In such situations, withdrawal, emotional exhaustion, or leaving altogether may become mechanisms of self-preservation rather than acts of disloyalty.

Systems That No Longer Want to Listen

Eventually, there comes a point where silencing one different voice is no longer enough.

Inside the system, people may continue reassuring one another. They repeat the same old songs, defend outdated harmonies, and frame every unfamiliar sound as a threat.

But outside, other ears begin listening.

The public slowly realizes that the real dissonance may not come from a single string, but from the instrument itself.

And once external trust begins fading—once other systems sound clearer, more ethical, more alive—the old instrument will gradually be abandoned.

Not because outsiders destroyed it.

But because it decayed from within.

Research on organizational decay shows that institutional collapse rarely happens in one dramatic moment. More often, it develops gradually through denial, symbolic actions without meaningful change, and collective exhaustion that can no longer be hidden.

In systems fearful of difference, achievement itself becomes threatening.

When one person attempts to move forward, others may respond not by supporting them, but by pulling them backward—so that no one advances too far alone.

Over time, the system stops growing because its energy becomes consumed by internal suppression rather than collective development.

Meanwhile, the outside world continues listening.

And when other communities begin demonstrating stronger integrity, healthier learning environments, and more honest values, trust inevitably shifts elsewhere.

In the end, such systems do not collapse merely because of external pressure.

They collapse because they slowly destroy themselves from within.

The voices capable of improving the system are silenced.

Only performance and pretense remain.

Listening as the Beginning of Repair

Still, collapse is not always the end.

Scholar Howard Zehr argued within the framework of restorative justice that healing begins with listening—not listening to judge, but listening to understand.

Yet within systems built upon silencing, genuine listening rarely emerges from official forums or ceremonial events.

Instead, it often grows quietly between people.

Researchers Henri Lipmanowicz and Keith McCandless describe these as liberating structures: small but meaningful social spaces where ordinary individuals create authentic change.

These transformations do not wait for permission from authority.

They begin through small acts of courage:
honest conversations,
safe spaces for listening,
and the decision to remain human even in environments that no longer welcome honesty.

But if every space eventually closes—if every effort is answered only with symbolic gestures and empty rhetoric—then sometimes the only remaining choice is to leave.

Not as surrender.

But because staying would only prolong wounds that the system continues refusing to heal.

Through Otto Scharmer and his framework of Theory U, real transformation often begins when people find the courage to release what no longer serves life.

Not out of revenge.

But to create space for something more honest, more alive, and more aligned with the values that should have been protected from the beginning.

—
Written by Ruth NS
Founder of PhiliaTalks
Lecturer at the Faculty of Psychology, Universitas Muria Kudus