Enforced tolerance: the quiet pressure behind brand activism and celebrity allyship
There’s a new kind of pressure shaping public image today. Not just the fear of getting things wrong, but the demand to get them right immediately, visibly, and without question. Whether you’re a celebrity, a brand, or just someone in a group chat, the expectation is clear: you must not only support every social cause, but do so with absolute conviction, perfect language, and no hesitation.
It sounds inclusive. In practice, it’s often something else entirely. Performative, panicked, and quietly alienating. That’s what we mean by enforced tolerance.
What is enforced tolerance?
Enforced tolerance is the pressure to express public or social support for every identity, cause or label, regardless of whether you fully understand it, feel ready to engage, or even agree with the framing. There’s little room for questions. Even a pause or a neutral stance can be interpreted as problematic.
And this isn’t just a celebrity issue. It happens at dinner tables, in WhatsApp groups, at work. That feeling that if you ask a question, or hesitate over the right language, or quietly disagree with something, you’ll be judged not just for your opinion, but for who you are. Even a moment of uncertainty can make people assume the worst. It’s led to a culture where many people are not actually being more tolerant, they’re just better at pretending to be.
The pressure to say something, even when you’re not ready
You’ve seen it. A celebrity posts a black square. A brand slaps on a rainbow logo. A vague statement goes out from someone’s management team just to keep the critics quiet. But this happens privately too. People speak up in conversations about identity, trauma or politics because they’re afraid not to. Because silence is now treated as guilt.
Clients message me asking if they should post something, just because a moment is trending. It’s not driven by belief, it’s driven by panic. They’re worried people will notice they’ve said nothing and assume that means they don’t care. It turns real support into a public ritual, something to be performed on cue for approval.
You don’t have to be a public figure to feel it
In my work, which often involves being direct and offering honest feedback, I’ve noticed how much I’ve had to shift how I speak depending on who I’m with. Older clients are usually fine with straight-talking. With them, I can say things like, “That’ll be a really bad look,” and they take it for what it is, professional advice, not a personal attack. They understand that I’m on their side, trying to help them avoid reputational damage or public backlash. We can talk casually, disagree, and then crack on with fixing the issue. And more often than not, we get better results because of it. We’re actually able to have a real conversation.
Younger clients, particularly those in their early twenties, tend to require a far more delicate approach. Even when they’ve explicitly asked for an opinion, anything less than fully positive feedback can be taken incredibly personally. A comment about strategy can turn into a three-day silence. You’ll get a message days later referencing something you said months ago, pulled in to prove a point or reframe a neutral comment as a slight. The whole dynamic becomes emotionally loaded, and it’s exhausting.
Negative feedback isn’t negative. It’s not an attack, it’s not disrespect, it’s just life. Nobody’s perfect. I make mistakes, you make mistakes, we all mess things up sometimes. That’s being human. It’s how we learn and grow. And often, the reason someone hires a PR consultant or strategist is precisely because they want help seeing what they can’t see themselves. It’s about improving something, not tearing it down. Yet somehow, the ability to hear that kind of feedback, to take it on and apply it, has become rare. People cannot seem to cope with the idea that something might need changing.
It’s fascinating to observe, especially when you work in a field where disagreeing is the whole point. You’re brought in to help someone grow, protect their reputation, or steer them away from something risky. That only works if they can hear what you’re saying, and lately, that seems to be getting harder and harder.
When even good intentions aren’t enough
Sometimes the most thoughtful, caring opinion is the one that questions something, not to attack it, but to protect someone involved. But that kind of input is rarely welcome anymore. Even when someone’s coming from a place of genuine concern, saying anything that disrupts the dominant view is often treated as offensive.
It’s especially difficult when the topic is emotionally charged. I’ve seen people stay quiet even when they’re worried about someone’s wellbeing, because they know that speaking up will be misread as judgemental. The intention is care, but the risk of backlash is so high, they don’t say anything at all. So nothing gets challenged. Nothing gets explored. People just nod along while thinking something entirely different.
Even asking questions is risky now
We’ve somehow reached a point where curiosity is treated as ignorance, and ignorance is treated as malice. A simple question - “Can you explain that term?” or “Why is that the preferred way to say it?” - is now seen as suspicious. People are expected to just know everything. But how are you meant to learn if you’re too afraid to ask?
There’s no space for open conversation anymore. People are scared of looking stupid. Scared of being misunderstood. Scared of being frozen out. And that fear has made something as basic as learning feel dangerous. It’s strange how we now live in a world that constantly talks about inclusion, yet so often shuts out anyone who isn’t fluent in every new rule the moment it’s created.
A PR perspective: how to navigate it professionally
For public figures and brands, this culture makes reputation management harder than ever. Not just because there are more expectations, but because the expectations shift constantly, and not everyone agrees on what “right” looks like anymore.
One thing I often do is flag things that shouldn’t be a big deal, but will be. For example, I had a client attend a Pride event and post a photo waving a Pride flag. They’ve privately financially supported LGBT causes, helped struggling Pride events, and were genuinely there to show support. But the flag didn’t include the updated design with trans colours and brown and black stripes. And that’s what people focused on. Not their presence, not their intention, just the flag.
This is where a good PR team helps. Not to censor someone, but to say, “Heads up, this might get taken the wrong way. Here’s why. Let’s fix it before it becomes a distraction.” If you’re a public figure or a brand, ask yourself:
Could this be misread if someone takes it out of context?
Is the imagery up to date with current expectations?
Am I posting to say something meaningful, or just to avoid criticism?
And if you’re ever unsure, ask someone who works in this space. Not because you have to be perfect, but because a quiet conversation now is better than a headline later.
Final thought
It’s a strange thing to say, but I find it genuinely sad that people can’t just be people anymore. Everyone’s treading carefully, second-guessing themselves, scanning the room before they speak. That’s not a society full of bad people. That’s a society full of anxious ones, terrified of getting it wrong.
The fact that so many people are this cautious should be proof that most of them are already trying to do the right thing.
But when even that’s not enough, you have to wonder what the point of it all is.