Using the Karpman Drama Triangle as a Teaching Tool

5179
- - Please visit: Legacy Horn Experience - -
- - Please visit: Peabody Institute - -

UPDATED: Dec. 9th in the PM. Fixed broken resource links.

* * *

Sometimes in our musical lives with colleagues, teachers and students, a dance-of-power can rear its ugly head; one that can lead to a lot of unnecessary drama and anxiety. Stephen Karpman first described this psychological dance in 1968 as the drama triangle.

A basic understanding of the roles and pitfalls behind this triangle can be of great value to musicians, students and teachers. It is a classic model of human interaction and behavior that counseling and leadership experts reference today.

A vicious cycle

Karpman’s model outlines three habitual (and toxic) roles that a player might take on in a given situation. The progression typically cycles in this order:

  • Rescuer
  • Victim
  • Persecutor

Blame and guilt are in the stew that feeds this triangle, and I imagine that this is why it is so hard to recognize and break out of once trapped inside.

The pattern goes roughly like this: one individual tries to steer and control another, feels victimized when things don’t go as planned and then, ends up resenting their target.

Ulterior motives

This is a power game really, played all too often in the music profession. I would daresay that a number of well-known teachers in our field utilize this power play as a default – whether by accident or on purpose. Students too may take on the Victim role as a starting point in order to exercise control over their teachers, parents or other students.

The ulterior motive in this game is for unspoken (and possibly subconscious) desires to be met in a way where satisfaction and power are achieved. This behavior ignores of course the broader harm being done to the situation as a whole. It is based on personal needs, rather than on responsibility or true altruism.

Rescuers

Rescuers are fairly easy to spot. They get caught up in enabling and helping people – whether they need it or not. They see themselves as good and doing good for other people. Their approach can vary, ranging from soft-and-gentle (passive aggression), all the way up to being assertive and bossy (active aggression).

They offer unsolicited advice and will rationalize it as “I care so much” or “I am just trying to help.” Rescuers are generally not aware that pity and disrespect are often at the core of their behavior ( i.e. “I know what’s best for you”).

When in public with my sister-in-law and her new baby for example, I am always amazed at mothers that will approach her with unsolicited child-rearing advice. This kind of encounter is typically more about the person giving the advice than the person getting it.

A Rescuer will typically slide into feeling victimized  (“Poor me, I give so much, yet no one returns my efforts or truly recognizes them”). In time a Rescuer will even grow to resent their target (“That jerk just doesn’t get it. Why did I waste my time?”).

This cycle goes round and round, and with each shift in roles there is Drama, hence the name of the model. What is most destructive with this cycle for musicians is that it is all about the Drama, which ultimately stands in the way of problem-solving and progress.

Indifference as a tool

I have only taken a handful of lessons from Philip Farkas, but I once heard that when introducing a new concept, he would wait for the student to become inquisitive before repeating himself and spelling out the new concept in more detail.

Avoiding the Rescuer role in music education translates into accepting that indifference can actually be a good mindset. It can be very useful and productive to wait and see if a student steps forward for themselves or to see how they end up doing things differently than originally anticipated. As David Krehbiel (former principal horn of the San Fransisco Symphony Orchestra) would often say, it is an attitude of “creative not-caring.”

What the drama triangle illustrates for us as musicians is the value of being non-reactive, and somewhat detached and non-judgmental in our practice.

That is not to say that we must be devoid of emotion (like the ultra-logical Mr. Spock character from Star Trek). I would suggest rather that identifying strong feelings and thinking about them appropriately before speaking out loud is a more positive and productive approach.

This realization alone can be very helpful in owning and experiencing our feelings, instead of being controlled by them.

It’s a trap!

Understanding the general idea of the drama triangle alone can help us as musicians to be more aware of our own tendencies to engage in dysfunctional emotional entanglements. To someone tangled in its web, simply knowing about it can bring some relief.

If caught in a drama triangle, the only escape really is to confront the problem. Learning to be comfortable as a Bad Guy is necessary in this instance in order to break the pattern.

I am not a psychologist or a doctor and have only a surface understanding of this principle, but I think at a minimum it should be noted that unwanted, unsolicited advice as a personal practice can be a very slippery slope.

For the receiver, it is strong indication of a hidden agenda to be wary of.

Resources used in this article

University of Horn Matters