I vividly remember when (not long ago) I had the opportunity to join some free courses through a scheme at work that accessed online learning material. And there it was, an online course for women to teach them how to be assertive. The thumbnail showed a woman talking convincingly with her legs planted in the ground at what looked like remarkable width. Remember Theresa May’s tory stance? The image implied that to be respected in the workplace a woman should move and sound more like a man. Curiously, I did not spot a course on how to take women seriously even if they don’t successfully emulate men.
As a neurodivergent undiagnosed child, I had been subjected to many an intervention to address my walking, my posture, my spinal curve, my flat feet, and my general lack of grace. Even now aged forty an occasional candid picture reveals my T-rex hands when I am off-guard. I was lovingly tampered with from a young age to make me move in line with my gender and all the trappings and trimmings of normalcy. Despite my mum’s efforts to put me through ballet and ballroom dancing I still did not glide like a swan on water, but rather ambled like a swan on land.
Fast forward and into my thirties, I was afforded a wonderful array of opportunities by my employer and travelled extensively for my job. I was surprised by just how often I was stopped by the security staff at the airports for random patting and swabbing. I mean 65% of the time. And then I started traveling with another neurodivergent colleague and I saw this scrutiny applied to them disproportionately too. It did not seem random anymore. My body language caused problems in the shops too, where a security guard would conspicuously follow me until I would feel forced to leave incandescent with anger and paralysed with shame. All this despite me never even so much as thinking about shoplifting. I was called a liar in my face because I “looked up and left” when thinking of an answer. I was told by my mum not to swing my legs “because only mentally ill people do that”. I was called a “bloody ape” for fidgeting on a chair when I was 4. And while I was not openly called a thief or a terrorist, it sure felt like it at times.
Now, I was incredibly privileged on account of my whiteness. Being autistic while black can be downright deadly. An American advocacy group in 2014 claimed that autistic people are seven times more likely to interact with the police and Black men and boys are even more likely to be shot when engaging with the forces.
Body language DNA is firmly entrenched in my profession. Counsellors are often trained to sit in an open position with arms outstretched and palms open. I have to fight with every fibre of my being to sit like this for 50 minutes, so I don’t anymore and rather prioritise listening. I still remember one of my training providers having a poster on the wall telling us what constituted positive body language and what constituted negative body language. Unsurprisingly I saw myself and my clients in the negative half of that sheet. Ouch. Can you see my issue with the body language teachings yet?
It’s often unscientific
The foundations upon which popular body language analysis is built are rather shaky. How we view and interpret another person’s body language is heavily dictated by our cultures, neurotype, gender, upbringing, and past experiences. This is something that body language experts tend to
steamroll over and claim universality of body language. That’s just not the case. People who are trained to interpret body language fare no better at spotting deception than untrained counterparts. Moreover, body language experts who get invited to TV shows to comment on juicy trials or yet another interview by a biracial woman Meghan Markle, will have divergent views based on the meaning of facial expressions and gestures. A lot of the time it is just plain guesswork built partly on behavioural science but mostly on something far less credible. And even a very good guess is not strictly science. Youtuber Munecat did a truly amazing video essay on this and I highly recommend it.
For those short on time, here is a quote from a paper titled Darwin's illegitimate children: How body language experts undermine Darwin's legacy that sums it up nicely, “Given the high stakes of misinformation, non-verbal behaviour scholars, including emotion researchers and behavioural scientists, should unite their voices to stop the spread of misinformation. This should not be taken as requiring researchers to ignore the debates and discussions around different behavioural frameworks and models of non-verbal communication. Rather, we propose that researchers can and should acknowledge the common bonds that unite them: their reliance on the scientific method, being open to new (and contradictory) information, updating their beliefs and expressing the limitations and uncertainties of their work. This is something so-called ‘experts’ do not do. Beyond non-verbal behaviour, this could help the public to better understand what researchers do, and improve the public's trust in science as a whole.”
It harms people
Body language analysis can be a very harmful tool in the hands of those who have power. People with diverging body language are often disbelieved, denied jobs at the interviews, dismissed and ridiculed. I was turned away from a job for solely not maintaining eye contact during the interview. This was the only reason.
Body language mythology misinterprets and misrepresents a whole lot of people. It dismisses and diminishes women, men, enbies, kids, Black people, Brown people, Queer people, people who are not W.E.I.R.D., people with divergent neurotypes, people who live in differently abled bodies, and many more. It leaves swathes of decent talented people outside of workforce, education, and public spaces. We are driven out of shops. We are chastised for not making enough eye contact at the interviews. We are not believed when interrogated in the places that supposedly dispense justice. We are excluded from group pictures. We are not invited to do public speaking even if we have something to say. We are traumatised in hospitals, clinics, and even therapist’s office, because we present differently or because our body configurations are deemed offensive.
For those who enjoy trivia, here is an article about the posture panic, its roots and how it led to a prestigious university’s catalogue of its students “posture exams” in the 1950s when a slouch could prevent you from graduating in your chosen subject. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/04/15/slouch-posture-panic-in-modern-america-beth-linker-book-review
And here is an audible interview on the very same topic by BBC4 podcasts exploring the colonialist background of “standuprightness” https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m002020z
And another blog that explains the links between posture and colonialism https://liberationmartialarts.substack.com/p/deconstructing-the-colonial-history
How I move is not for you. It is for me
Here is a wild thought. Not all body movements are a message for you to intercept and decipher. Most body movements exist to benefit the person who inhabits that body. Stimming is such phenomenon. A person stimming is doing so to help their self-regulation, not to “communicate” as it has been so popular to say. It is not intended for the observer; it is for the person who lives their own bodymind. Think about it. When you click the pen repeatedly, do you do it to morse code to someone else or do you do it because it feels good to you?
The prospect of living in a world imbued with secret codes must appear invigorating but inhabiting it as a reluctantly appointed very secret agent is exhausting and even dangerous. So next time you see someone fidget, avert their gaze, twitch for a microsecond, or dance with abandon like no-one is watching, is it something you need to get involve yourself in? Maybe on this occasion it’s meant not for you at all. It’s for them.