The Elephant in the Room | 4 min read

Recently, videos of police raids at private parties and gatherings in Dhaka have circulated on social media. What caught my attention was not necessarily the raids themselves, but the cameras.

Women desperately trying to hide their faces, people visibly uncomfortable, and cameramen continuing to record. The footage is then shared online, where thousands of strangers judge people they know absolutely nothing about.

It raises a simple question: Why are we so comfortable humiliating others?

Whether partying, drinking or dressing in a certain way is morally right or wrong is a separate conversation. The question here is why humiliation has become such an accepted response to behaviour we disapprove of, where this tendency comes from, and what it means for society.

The Elephant in the Room

We have normalised humiliation as a tool of obedience.

Think about how many of us grew up. Teachers embarrass students in front of classrooms. Parents shame children for questioning their decisions. Employers publicly scold employees for making mistakes.

The message is simple: Obey, or be humiliated.

This mindset has deep historical roots. British colonial rule reinforced systems of authority built around hierarchy, punishment and obedience. Although these practices existed long before colonialism, its institutions helped reinforce them.

We gained independence decades ago, yet we continue to reproduce elements of this culture ourselves.

We confuse respect with obedience, discipline with fear, and accountability with humiliation.

But why has humiliation remained so effective?

Perhaps because it targets one of our most basic human needs: the desire to belong. We fear being rejected by our families, ridiculed by our friends or judged by society. Over time, we learn that following expectations protects us from embarrassment.

Eventually, we stop questioning those expectations altogether.

Consider a teenager who dreams of pursuing an unconventional career, or someone who wants to start a business instead of taking a secure job. Rather than discussing the risks, we may ridicule their ambitions.

The same mentality becomes particularly harsh when it comes to women. A woman who dresses differently, attends parties or socialises openly may find her entire character being questioned.

Their choices challenge something deeper than personal beliefs. They challenge the idea that the rules we have followed all our lives are necessary for everyone else.

And when someone refuses to follow those rules, humiliation becomes a convenient way of making an example of them.

The aspiring entrepreneur becomes a failure, the unconventional teenager a disappointment, and the woman at a party a “whore”.

The message reaches everyone else: This is what happens when you step outside our expectations.

Perhaps the most uncomfortable part is that those who were once controlled through humiliation can eventually become the people using it to control others.

But What If They Were Doing Something Wrong?

Some will argue that those attending these gatherings were drinking, taking drugs or engaging in activities prohibited by Islam.

But we must distinguish between accountability and humiliation.

If someone commits a crime, let the law deal with it. If someone considers a lifestyle sinful, they are entitled to that belief.

Neither automatically gives anyone the right to publicly humiliate another person.

After all, accountability addresses what someone has done. Humiliation often attacks who someone is.

Does filming a crying woman prevent crime? Does exposing someone’s private life make society safer? Or does it simply create fear, resentment and hatred?

The Questions We Should Be Asking

When we accept humiliation as a legitimate way of demanding obedience, anyone who challenges accepted beliefs becomes a potential target.

Today, it might be someone attending a party. Tomorrow, someone questioning authority or choosing an unconventional path.

A society where freedom is not guided by reason and respect risks becoming one where people feel entitled to take away someone else’s freedom.

We have spent generations demanding freedom from those who controlled us, yet we remain remarkably comfortable controlling one another.

Perhaps the real elephant in the room is not that we humiliate people for disobeying us, but that we have spent generations believing humiliation is an acceptable way to demand obedience.

So, when someone makes a mistake, are we trying to help them improve, or simply make them afraid of repeating it?

When someone chooses a different path, are we concerned about the harm they might cause, or are we uncomfortable because they refuse to follow our expectations?

We gained our independence from colonial rule.

But have we freed ourselves from the habit of demanding obedience through fear?