How a Teddy Bear Called Hardy Became an Emotional Shock Absorber and Took the Drama Out of a Drama Triangle
This story was featured on Medium Day — see my video here!
In our low-trust, high-stress society, asking for what we want and listening to criticism feels harder. Yet these elements sustain relationships at home, school, and work, as well as across social and political lines.
To create a safe space to avoid direct confrontation but still discuss their feelings and needs without falling into destructive patterns, my father and step mother used a teddy bear called Hardy.
In this odd triangle, which included a built-in inanimate couple’s therapist, the duo cultivated the hallmarks of a successful family:
- conflict existed but did not become chronic because emotions were (fully) expressed, often in a humorous context;
- subjective reality was vocalized, appreciated, and respected; and,
- the power was shared;
- and the problem-solving was so basic and yet so highly evolved.
This post describes the two characters and their dynamic, discusses the triangulation done poorly and done well, and proposes a reflection and thought experiment:
What kind of Hardy equivalents could we develop to build more inclusive, supportive, honest families, communities, and workplaces? Could digital tools like HardyGPT offer new ways to navigate complex interpersonal dynamics?
The cast of characters
My father Erhard and his partner Rosita were both born in 1930 in Germany, a time that robbed them of their childhood, truncated their education, and subjected them to war and post-war occupation trauma.
They were also both Capricorns, a Zodiac trait with many strengths but also a tendency to be demanding, stubborn, and unemotional—unless they cannot reach their goals, then they may become despondent.
On every other dimension, they were total opposites. My father was born on the Danish border and hated card games. Rosita came from the Austrian border and was a competitive bridge player. His idea of a raging night out was a Wagner opera, not hers. He married, divorced, and parented; she broke three engagements. He preferred Aldi Nord; she liked Aldi Süd.
Enter Hardy Bärli, an unlikely mediator
When they first met in the 1980s in Dakar, Senegal, my father got a teddy in the mail as part of a marketing campaign. He brilliantly “gifted” it to her.
Soon after, they started communicating with the bear and tending to him. Hardy got dressed with them in the morning. So, when I met my Rosita for the first time, she enthusiastically introduced me to the elegantly clad teddy and set him on his spot on the couch.
My 16-year-old self thought that was a bit bizarre.
Then it got weirder.
Annoyed that my father had once again postponed a requested task, such as taking out the trash, my stepmother warned Hardy that his “daddy” was growly today—loudly enough for my father to hear from the kitchen.
Then, it was my father’s turn to lean into the bear and whisper audibly (and increasingly audibly as time went on) that he had intended to take out the trash, but he was upset by the tone of the request.
Shortly after that, the trash was out, and the elders were happily reading on the terrace — as always, holding hands.
They made him a passport (with official paper) to keep the peace when they traveled. Soon, it had many exotic international stamps.
The teddy bear also took to letter writing so that both parties could continue to share their state of mind and repair their relationship even when separated. In one such letter, Hardy reported that Rosita was having a hard time getting out of bed and seemed sad — something she would have found hard to report herself. In other letters, Hardy would brag about how clever Rosita has been about setting up the new TV.
The Dynamic of Triangulation
Basically, Hardy triangulated between them, and in doing so, he functioned as a shock absorber and lightning rod.
Triangulation is widely described as a communication pattern in which a third person is used as an intermediary to avoid direct interaction with another person.
According to Murray Bowen, a two-person system is unstable because it tolerates little tension before involving a third person.
In a triangle, the tension can shift across the three relationships. While spreading the tension can stabilize a system, nothing is resolved.
Triangulation is often associated, at least in psychology on YouTube and TikTok, with narcissism or people who need an ally and enemy to perform. Individuals with narcissistic tendencies might also be more skilled at manipulating others into being “flying monkeys” to carry out their dirty work. The term comes from The Wizard of Oz, in which the Wicked Witch of the West uses flying monkeys under her spell. (See here for a post on narcissism at work that is related to this conversation).
It occurs for a simple reason: It is easier to talk ABOUT someone than talking TO someone.
But we pretty much all do it…
- At work, a manager triangulates between leaders and employees. A team member may complain about another to a third one.
- At home, a caregiver may scapegoat a child but dote on the other, essentially splitting their self-image. Parents speak through children.
- In love, a manipulator may bring in another person (in-laws, best friends) to create friction, confusion, and jealousy.
- Online, we might be using forums on Reddit and other resources, which can provide a broad range of perspectives and advice.
- In the clinic, a healthcare professional might be called on to mediate between two family members.
We do it for a whole host of reasons:
- Enlist the “third” in helping us resolve our conflict
- Make the other feel or look foolish or create additional conflict
- Transmit confidential information and gain access to gossip
- Displace hurt, cope with our own distress, and deflect tension
- Reinforce a sense of superiority
Basically, we do it to control or gain power: If I cannot control you, I can control what others think about you.
Fast forward 40 years: From bizarre to brilliant
About 40 years later, when Daven Morrison, M.D. invited me to write on what managers can learn from couples therapy, the therapeutic dyad, and the shame compass, I realized how clever this tool was.
Why is a sitting teddy bear better than a flying monkey?
Interpersonal relationships are inherently complex due to the interplay of various psychological, emotional, and social factors. Individual differences in personality traits, upbringing, and life experiences contribute to diverse perspectives and communication styles. We all come from different backgrounds, experience life differently, and rely on different coping mechanisms to deal with the world’s challenges.
When we add the dynamic nature of emotions into the mix, such as varying moods and sensitivities, the level of complexity increases as these factors significantly influence how people interpret and respond to each other. The challenge is to create a safe place of realistic confidence and the possibility of developing healthy working alliances.
The Hardy technique provided this safe place and working alliance in many ways but in part by circumventing three psychological traps:
- neutralizing the drama triangle (Stephen Karpman);
- operating within the Compass of Shame (Donald Nathanson); and,
- avoiding psychological reactance (Jack Brehm).
The Drama Triangle
When we triangulate as described earlier with a third human (as opposed to an inanimate object), we will tend to ascribe a particular role to that person, or that person will take on that role as a default: “Oh poor thing, let me help you!” the rescuer might say.
There are many permutations of the triangle and the nature of the roles that are played across its axes. People also wind up moving from persecutor to victim and each role can take on a dysfunctional pattern.
By talking to Hardy, my parents could express their distress (“The trash is not out, poor me”) and their reasoning (“It might be your fault because I was upset by the tone of the request”).
The Compass of Shame
When we get negative feedback, we tend to respond with emotions of shame that can present as defensiveness. Then, according to the work of Nathanson and others, we usually take one of four directions:
- withdraw (avoid others, go silent, but also sometimes take a needed break or time to respond);
- avoid (ignore the situation or escape, perhaps via distraction or substance use);
- attack the self (engage in negative self-talk, become overly self-critical, or tolerate bad behavior from others); and,
- attack the other (be aggressive, blame others, bully, or gossip).
The Hardy technique allowed my parents to surface their emotions and consider them as data—put another way, instead of attacking themselves or each other, they attacked the data. They also seem to have understood that it could be scary to talk to each other directly and that they might need time to decide which of the compass directions they really wanted to take.
Psychological reactance
“Why is it that a child sometimes does the opposite of what he is told? Why would a person sometimes dislike receiving a favor?” (Brehm, 1966, p. v).
As mentioned earlier, Hardy’s parents were very stubborn and had overcome great hardship and probably trauma by sheer willpower, autonomy, and self-determination.
These traits had kept them alive through the war and political turmoil they had encountered in their career and well into their 90s.
But there was no telling them what to do. In fact, they would be considered champions of psychological reactance: the phenomenon by which people may become systematically oppositional if they feel that a request impinges on their freedom.
Research suggests that this can often be reduced when the actor is given more autonomy—ultimately, the recalcitrant can be told: “The choice is yours.” My father has the choice of taking out the trash because Rosita’s communication with Hardy was to warn him about my father’s mood, not (poor) behavior. He kept agency and face.
Where and who are the Hardies — or Flying Monkeys — in our lives?
Who is your Hardy? And why?
- What is the burden you are putting on them? Are they the rescuer?
- Are you using an online forum like Reddit to get feedback on your behavior and impact?
- Can you use GenAI to create a digital twin and/or digital twin of your partner to practice getting what you need?
For whom and what are YOU a Hardy?
- How do you feel about the shock absorber's role? Understanding your feelings about this role can help you manage your well-being and set appropriate boundaries.
- What are you doing to take care of yourself?
- How do you remain a neutral vessel — just to listen, not try to fix, console, accuse, or judge?
What is the role of the Hardy in your head?
- To what extent do you talk about yourself to yourself? What is the nature of your self-talk and level of self-compassion?
- What is the emotional equivalent of an email we write but never send?
- What do you lose when the voices in your head become part of a drama triangle? Might reaching out to a coach or therapist externalize things in a positive way? Recognizing when internal voices contribute to a drama triangle can be a key step in breaking out of unproductive patterns.
More generally, what kind of Hardy equivalents could we develop to build more inclusive, supportive, honest homes, workplaces, and communities?
What about a HardyGPT?
Perhaps we can get inspiration from the digital world after all.
In healthcare, a digital twin of a patient can help us customize the diagnosis and treatment as part of the future of personalized medicine.
In manufacturing, a factory’s digital twin enables us to test things online before implementing them on the factory floor.
Might there be an emotional therapeutic version?
In this post on artificial empathy and digital dependency last year, we described how we can use GenAI tools to create digital twins of ourselves or others by uploading for example text messages, videos, diaries, and letters, for example. We have patterns of response — an LLM might be better at spotting these than we are as non-neutral observer, especially of ourselves! With ChatGPT, we can run scenarios by ourselves, even creating several characters to join in the conversation.
Companies like You Only Virtual enable you to create “versonas” — online personas — by uploading personal communications with people we lost and mourn and continue to “converse” with a chatbot that mimics voices and relational behaviors.
Using AI to create digital simulations can be a novel way to practice communication or explore scenarios, but it should probably complement, not replace, real-life interactions and conversations. We must also use these tools wisely, lest they make us more self-centered and impatient, and therefore less able to deal with adversity and engage with each other. (If this topic is of interest, please see our recent paper, When the Cave Becomes Home).
In the end, however, the story of Hardy suggests that even the most complex relationships can be transformed with creativity, compassion, and a touch of humor.
Thank you for reading our story. I miss the duo and their bizarre wisdom. But Hardy and his passport remind us of the importance of finding a way to talk to someone we need to talk to about something — even circuitously! Please share your Hardy figures and ideas here and on LinkedIn.
