Everything You Need to Know About Suppression • Record reality Piece memory

Introduction

This article is the result of several years of enduring sustained, multi-dimensional pressure, during which I continuously explored and gradually awakened to a clearer understanding of my situation. It is also shaped by insights I gained after studying certain areas of psychology and philosophy.

I sincerely hope that those who have had similar experiences, or are currently going through them, can come to understand the nature of this issue correctly, and eventually find a way out, building a genuinely healthy sense of self. Writing this article also aligns precisely with the original intention of my blog: the detours I have taken, I do not want others to repeat; the insights I gained through pain, I hope others can obtain without having to endure the same suffering. If there had been a choice, I would never have willingly chosen the experiences or the cost required to arrive at these insights. I would not choose that.

The Experience of Being Treated as a “Son” or “Grandson”

What I refer to here is not a biological relationship, but a psychological state. To someone who has never experienced this, it may sound like an exaggerated rhetorical expression. However, if you have ever experienced what might be called “the love of the dominant party,” or the kind of heavy “care” imposed by family members, elders, or authority figures in work environments, you will understand that this is not exaggeration at all. If anything, it is closer to a realistic description, perhaps even insufficient.

I have mentioned in previous blogs that my path of learning was not smooth. This difficulty did not stem from the absence of teachers, but rather from the suppression imposed by those so-called teachers and seniors. When I was a student, I once made a bold statement: I would never become a teacher, and it was the profession I disliked the most. At that time, my emotional response toward teachers was entirely negative. What they brought me was pressure, a sense of suffocation, and an overwhelming presence of power.

What I want to discuss here is not the profession of teaching itself, but rather to use my early experiences as an entry point to analyze why I developed such feelings, and why similar patterns later appeared in various “teacher-like” figures I encountered in the workplace.

In one of my YouTube videos, I expressed a personal view: when the primary goal is to transmit knowledge, it is sometimes possible, or even necessary, to sacrifice a certain degree of accuracy in order to make knowledge communicable. The pursuit of accuracy and objectivity is not wrong, but it does not necessarily facilitate the transmission of knowledge. In fact, it can significantly increase resistance to that transmission.

My own experience reflects this. Whenever I tried to consult “professionals” in a particular field, I often sensed a subtle form of suppression. My thinking would be labeled as simplistic, my level insufficient, or my views unrigorous or entirely wrong. In short, it was rare for me to receive recognition or meaningful guidance in such interactions. Even simple sharing from the other party was uncommon.

I once questioned whether the problem was entirely my own. Perhaps I was too sensitive, or unable to accept criticism. I seriously reflected on myself, genuinely trying to identify my own flaws. In the end, however, I concluded that it was not simply my problem. And I do not believe that such situations must necessarily be attributed entirely to myself. Is it possible that the issue is not solely mine?

For those who know me, this is even less convincing, because I am someone who can accept different perspectives. I can accept criticism, reflect on it, and make adjustments. But does that mean I should accept all criticism, or follow every piece of advice? If that were the case, then what would remain of me as an individual? Would I be nothing more than a puppet?

If I am labeled as stubborn for not following others’ advice, then what exactly counts as “listening”? Does listening only count if I obey? If I do not follow through, does that automatically make me stubborn? Is stubbornness a binary concept, or is there a spectrum?

Traditional sayings such as “good medicine tastes bitter” or “honest advice sounds unpleasant” raise further questions. Is bitterness necessarily beneficial? Is unpleasantness necessarily truth? Is it possible that honest advice can sometimes be agreeable? And even if something is honest advice, does it mean it must always be accepted?

I do not see these questions as sophistry. On the contrary, I believe that those who cannot clarify these issues, or who discourage independent thinking, often act with underlying purposes. What exactly are those purposes? Are they systemic and structural in nature?

In the past, I could only piece together fragmented observations, which were often dismissed as mere complaints. But through continuous analysis and learning, I gradually came to understand what this system of being treated as subordinate is doing, and what it is trying to achieve.

Structural Analysis

In this section, I will break down this system of suppression into three parts. During the analysis, I will incorporate both my own experiences and observations of broader patterns, in order to make the reasoning clearer.

Criticism Based on “Correct Intentions”

This is perhaps the most familiar form. When outcomes are unsatisfactory, we often hear voices from above saying:

“This is for your own good.”
“How could I possibly harm you?”
“I had good intentions.”

There are also more refined versions, such as:

“If I didn’t intervene, you would have gone astray long ago.”
“You’re too comfortable. You’re lazy. Someone has to push you.”
“I’m trying to prevent you from being trapped in an information bubble.”

The common feature of these statements is that they all begin from a morally justified starting point. Once the intention is deemed correct, it becomes possible to justify the entire process, regardless of flaws, errors, or even negative outcomes.

My position is this:
Correct intentions do not guarantee the legitimacy of criticism. Even well-intentioned criticism can constitute suppression. The key lies in whether it promotes openness of thought.

I want to emphasize that I am not against criticism itself. What I oppose is the use of seemingly well-intentioned and seemingly reasonable criticism as a means to suppress the other person’s subjectivity.

There is such a thing as healthy criticism, and it can be beneficial. However, not all criticism is healthy, nor is all criticism beneficial. Whether it is beneficial depends on whether it expands or restricts openness of thought. I will elaborate on this concept later.

Here, I want to explain some behaviors that appear reasonable on the surface but may actually be problematic.

For example, we do observe that some people lack motivation, appear lazy, seem stuck in their comfort zones, and show little awareness. These individuals are often seen as needing to be pushed, and those who push them are often perceived as justified or even righteous.

However, I would argue the following:

Human nature is inherently exploratory. Exploration often manifests as attempts at new things. This does not require suppression; it is spontaneous. What appears as laziness is often a stage following exploration, where the individual has tested options within their environment and concluded that disengagement is currently the optimal choice.
Observers often lack necessary tolerance. What is actually a form of adaptive behavior is interpreted as degeneration. Observers assume that they have provided solutions, yet the individual refuses to follow them. The flaw in this reasoning is that the observer has fixed both parties within the same predefined context. The observer cannot step outside that context to truly see from the other person’s perspective. In reality, the reluctance to think is not due to comfort, but often due to the loss of early exploratory capacity or lack of support.
Social structures often do not support exploration. Historically, human societies have been shaped by scarcity, where survival needs took priority. Even when material conditions improve, these behavioral patterns persist. As a result, exploration is often viewed as impractical or irresponsible.

Therefore, genuine exploration and growth can be misinterpreted as laziness or irresponsibility when they do not align with existing structures or observer expectations.

To restate the key point:
Correct intentions do not guarantee the legitimacy of criticism. Even well-intentioned criticism can function as suppression.

Forms of Suppression

Once a person has formed an evaluation of another’s subjectivity, the next step is action. However, suppression does not always occur proactively. For example, even if strangers form such judgments about each other, they usually will not act on them. But once one party initiates interaction, suppression can begin to manifest.

Based on my experiences, suppression mainly appears in four forms:

Appealing to Identity Instead of Logic

In a conversation involving two or more parties, the dominant side may rely on identity rather than logic to exert pressure. These identities can include age, wealth, status, experience, achievements, and so on.

When suppression is based on identity, logic becomes irrelevant. For example, you cannot meaningfully share your life experience with your elders; your role is to listen. You cannot engage in an equal discussion about success with someone considered “successful,” because you are not seen as successful enough. If you are unemployed, you are not treated as an equal when sharing your insights with someone who has a job, even if your insights may be valid.

There are many such cases of identity-based suppression, and I will summarize more of them later.

Use of Vague Concepts

One of the most common phrases is: “Listening to all sides brings clarity.”

What I want to point out is not to advocate for ignoring other perspectives, but rather that emphasizing “listening” without clear criteria actually reinforces the weight of the speaker’s own position. True listening requires filtering, evaluation, and weighting of information.

If “listening” is emphasized without these processes, it becomes equivalent to saying that accepting the speaker’s opinion is the only valid form of listening.

Similar expressions include sayings like “Take advice, and you’ll be better off.” The act of giving advice does not automatically inherit higher-level legitimacy such as “considering multiple perspectives.” The value of advice depends on the information itself, not on the fact that it is advice.

Misuse of Dialectics

We are often taught that things should be analyzed dialectically, from multiple perspectives. While dialectics is indeed a useful method, it is not universally valid, nor inherently superior to logic.

In some situations, seemingly comprehensive dialectical analysis is actually used to suppress opposing viewpoints, ultimately serving the speaker’s desire for control. Similar to identity-based suppression, dialectics can weaken the importance of logical reasoning, as if the method itself overrides the validity of the content.

Impersonation of the Collective

This form is more subtle, and in my view, more problematic.

It appears in many variations, often supported by references or grand narratives, but ultimately leads to similar conclusions: one must be grounded, realistic, considerate of the bigger picture, and so on. It ends with a tone of moral elevation, as if speaking from a higher vantage point.

Upon closer observation, in environments where the collective is emphasized over the individual, expressions of individual desire are often suppressed. Any perspective originating from individual interest tends to be labeled negatively.

However, individual interests do not disappear. They are simply expressed in the form of collective narratives. For example, when someone says, “You are harming the collective interest,” they may actually mean that your actions harm their own interest. When someone emphasizes “the bigger picture,” they may be minimizing their own losses.

Should the concept of the collective exist? I believe it should, but with two conditions:

Individual interests must first be acknowledged and protected. Only then can collective interests be meaningfully discussed.
The sense of the collective should arise voluntarily from individuals, not be imposed through pressure or manipulation.

This is similar to the relationship between morality and law. Morality governs oneself, while law governs others. One should not use morality to control others, nor law to control oneself.

The collective should emerge from the individual, not be imposed upon the individual through various forms of pressure. If these conditions are not met, then one must question what exactly is meant by “the bigger picture.”

As Hannah Arendt pointed out:
When the collective is used to override the individual, it ceases to be a community and becomes a force that discourages thinking.

Section Summary

Regardless of the form, the purpose of suppression remains the same: to restrict independent thinking and exploration.

In such interactions, you may feel suffocated, lose your voice, and find yourself unable to defend your position. I have experienced this repeatedly, to the point where I entered prolonged periods of self-doubt and self-denial, while still sensing that something was fundamentally wrong.

It was not my fault. It was that I was operating within this system of suppression, and my thinking had not yet broken free from it.

These concepts often appear alongside suppression, either as justifications or as points of resistance.

On “Love”

Some forms of suppression are justified as love:

“I’m doing this for your own good.”
“I care about you.”
“I want you to improve.”

However, structurally, these are not expressions of love, but of control. Love is used to legitimize authority.

Another pattern is conditional love:

“If you listen, I will love you more.”
“I want you to become who I expect you to be.”
“If you fail to meet these expectations, I cannot continue treating you well.”

Here, love becomes a mechanism of behavioral regulation.

An even more powerful form is redefining resistance as a lack of love:

“If you reject my advice, you don’t care about me.”
“If you argue, you are ungrateful.”

This shifts the burden of love from the giver to the receiver, turning the receiver into a debtor.

There is also the use of sacrifice as leverage:

“I have done so much for you.”
“I have never done this for anyone else.”
“You shouldn’t disappoint me.”

In all these cases, love is distorted into a form of power.

Love, as a concept, is absolute. Once conditions are attached, it ceases to be love.

On “Freedom”

Some people resist suppression by appealing to freedom, only to be countered with the idea that “freedom is relative.”

For example: “You talk about freedom, but you are still bound by laws.”

While this is technically correct, it confuses different layers of freedom.

In my view, pure freedom does not come from external permission. As Viktor Frankl stated:
The last freedom of human beings is the freedom to choose one’s attitude under any circumstances.

Freedom is an internal capacity: the ability to choose. External systems influence consequences, not the existence of that capacity.

In many relationships, however, freedom is reduced to what is permitted. Statements like “You can do this, but not that” redefine freedom as a limited set of approved actions, rather than an inherent capability.

A more subtle form is convincing individuals that they never had such freedom to begin with:

“You are not qualified.”
“You will disappoint others.”
“This is not acceptable.”

These are not merely rules, but mechanisms of deprivation.

Another pattern is labeling resistance as immaturity or irresponsibility. This weakens the individual’s confidence in their own autonomy.

In all these cases, freedom is extracted from the individual and relocated into external conditions.

Thus:
Freedom exists prior to rules, consequences, and relationships. Once reduced to permitted actions, it is no longer freedom, but external control.

“Evil” as the Absence of Good

People often treat “evil” as something that actively exists, as if there were some dark force inherently opposed to good. However, Thomas Aquinas pointed out long ago that evil is not an entity, but the absence of good.

When a person exhibits harmful behavior, it is not because they possess some internal substance called “evil,” but because, within that particular context, certain essential elements of good are missing: understanding, support, space for subjectivity, stable relationships, or recognition of their needs.

What is often labeled as “malice” is frequently a response to prolonged deprivation. For example, after being suppressed, denied, or humiliated over an extended period, a person may become numb, indifferent, or aggressive. These states may appear “evil,” but structurally, they represent a lack of what should have been present. The aggression is not an overflow of strength, but a residual reaction after essential forms of good have been stripped away.

Similarly, indifference is not inherently an evil tendency. It emerges when emotional expression is repeatedly unmet, forcing the individual to disconnect in order to preserve themselves. What appears as coldness is structurally a lack of safety, stability, and understanding. It is not “too much evil,” but “too little good.”

Despair is also often treated as a form of darkness, but it is not evil. It is simply the void left when love, meaning, freedom, and support are absent. If we interpret this void as evil, we misidentify deprivation as wrongdoing, and those in need of help as threats.

In all these cases, what is perceived as evil is not the presence of something, but the absence of critical elements: space, respect, stability, and recognition of subjectivity. What appears as destructive behavior is often a distorted response to that absence.

Therefore:
Evil is not an entity opposed to good; it is the absence of good. What we call “evil actions” are often not the presence of evil, but the loss of good.

Openness of Thought as the Only Valid Criterion

At this point, the problem can be reduced to its core:

What is suppression, and how do we determine whether a conversation contains it?

Intentions are not reliable indicators. Tone is not reliable. Identity is not reliable. Even moral correctness is not reliable. The only valid criterion is this:

Does the interaction expand or compress openness of thought?

Whether it is criticism, advice, guidance, reminders, or so-called “experience sharing” or “tough love,” all must ultimately be evaluated through this lens.

Openness of thought is the fundamental condition for self-expansion, exploration, expression, understanding, and renewal. When openness is compressed, the individual gradually loses self-direction and begins to transfer their thinking, judgment, and decision-making to external forces.

As John Dewey stated:
Open-mindedness is not about accepting everything, but about being able to engage with new possibilities.

A healthy dialogue does not necessarily make you comfortable, but it gives you more cognitive space. A suppressive dialogue may not always feel painful, but it will make you feel as if you are being pushed into a narrower path.

There are only two indicators:

Does the dialogue allow you to express more?
Can you clearly articulate your thoughts, or are you constantly interrupted, denied, corrected, or labeled?
Healthy dialogue leads to expansion; suppressive dialogue leads to contraction.
Does the dialogue lead to more questions or fewer?
After the interaction, do you feel more willing to explore, understand, and try?
Healthy dialogue encourages curiosity; suppression discourages it.

This is the only effective standard.
You do not need to infer the other person’s intention, nor judge whether their arguments are “correct.” You only need to observe one thing:

Is your cognitive space expanding, or being compressed?

Supportive relationships make you more willing to express, explore, and engage with your own possibilities. They allow for trial and error, encourage independent thinking, and help you move toward your own direction.

Suppressive relationships make you hesitant to speak, afraid to try, uncertain of your own judgment, and increasingly dependent on external validation. They foster self-doubt and self-denial.

Suppression is not a technique, not merely a bad attitude, and not an occasional issue of tone. It is a structure. What it compresses is not your opinions, but your subjectivity.

Therefore, to determine whether suppression is present, you only need to ask one question:

After this interaction, am I more open, or more closed?

If the answer is the latter, nothing else needs to be examined. That is suppression.

How Power Structures in Dialogue Shape Subjectivity

The issue is not dialogue itself, but the structure behind it.

On the surface, it may seem like two people are simply talking. But what actually determines the outcome is not the language itself, but the invisible axis of power underlying it. Only by understanding this axis can we explain why certain words feel oppressive, why certain people make us feel suffocated, and why even casual remarks can feel like weight pressing on the chest.

The essence of this axis is simple:

Does A occupy a structurally dominant position, while B is placed in a structurally subordinate one?

This dominance does not necessarily come from violence or malice. It can arise from care, experience, identity, or even statements like “I’m just telling you the truth.” The real issue is that it alters the relationship between subjects.

As Pierre Bourdieu pointed out:
Language exerts power precisely because it does not operate between equal subjects.

When identity, experience, and achievement naturally create asymmetry, dialogue becomes structurally biased. The weaker party can only contract, not expand.

In a healthy dialogue, both sides remain subjects.
In a suppressive dialogue, only one remains a subject, while the other becomes an object.

Structural dominance often manifests as:

One can easily judge you, while you cannot judge them
One can easily deny you, while you cannot deny them
Their words are treated as “experience,” yours as “naivety”
They can say “you should,” while you can only say “I will try”

Once equality is lost, openness of thought cannot emerge, and subjectivity cannot unfold.

Subjectivity does not require help; it requires recognition, visibility, respect, and permission.

A person who remains in a structurally subordinate position for a long time will gradually lose their own “subjective voice,” eventually internalizing the other’s voice as “reality,” “truth,” or “common sense.” This is the disappearance of subjectivity.

For the stronger party, responsibility in dialogue is not to exercise power, but to withdraw it. Only by stepping back from power can genuine subject-to-subject interaction occur.

For the weaker party, awakening does not mean resisting power directly, but understanding this:

Subjectivity is never granted. It only needs to be recognized, and recognition must first come from oneself.

Once you realize this, you begin to understand why certain ways of speaking create freedom, while others create suffocation.

The former allows you to exist.
The latter demands your submission.
The former is based on equality.
The latter is based on suppression.
The former is rooted in respect between subjects.
The latter is rooted in asymmetry of power.

The unfolding of subjectivity does not require intelligence, knowledge, or experience. It requires space.
Space comes from openness.
Openness comes partly from the other’s restraint, and partly from your own awakening.

Conclusion

By writing this nearly ten-thousand-word article, I hope to make one thing clear to those who have experienced suppression, denial, or control: the problem is not necessarily within you. Many forms of interaction that appear “normal” may in fact be part of a structural system of suppression, rather than a reflection of your personality or ability.

At the same time, I hope that when we find ourselves in positions of relative strength, whether in family, workplace, or everyday relationships, we do not replicate the patterns we once endured. Especially when we become parents, mentors, or those with greater influence, we must remain aware that identity itself carries weight, and that weight naturally presses downward unless consciously restrained.

For me, writing this is both a summary and a reminder. I do not want to remain someone who is suppressed, but more importantly, I do not want to become someone who suppresses others.