The Death of Shame

There was a time — not so long ago — when shame was a guardrail. It didn’t just keep us in line; it told us where the line was. You didn’t air your dirty laundry in public. You didn’t flaunt your sexual escapades, if you had any.

In the 1980’s, the most scandalous thing you might see on TV was an unmarried couple kissing with the lights on. Since that time our moral compass has lost its ability to find true north. And as we say in the south shame just “up and died” on us.

Today, Love Island (Hulu, Peacock, Amazon Prime) quarantines ten beautiful singles in a luxurious villa. To stay in the game you must “couple up” and share a bed with a different person each week. Every inch of the villa is filmed 24/7 by a production crew.

The contestants known as “Islanders” all sleep in one big room. The Producers use night vision cameras to film anyone making the two-headed sheet-monster in the dark. There is lots of whispering and giggling under the covers after lights out. Not a lot is left to the imagination.

Every few days, new contestants are added just to spice things up. It’s like The Bachelor meets The Dating Game. Just add spray tans, abs, body art (tattoos) and sex. Lots of sex.

How badly must you want to be famous to participate in this garbage? And how damaged is your moral compass to think this is the launchpad of your big acting career? Have you no shame? Surely your mom and dad, grandparents and your little sisters are watching your “big break” on television, right?

Sounds like trash nobody would watch, right? Shockingly season 7 had 18.4 billion minutes streamed over its six-week run. It was Peacock’s most-watched original series ever. In comparison, The Bear (season 3) and Bridgerton (season 2) only racked up 1.2 billion minutes each.

Things that once provoked blushes now provoke likes and billions of minutes of screen time. How on earth did we get here?

Moral Relativism

This is the age of moral relativism. The belief that morality has no single, objective standard of right and wrong. Morality today is shaped by culture, context, or personal preference. Meaning that the definition of right and wrong is fluid, subject to interpretation. In theory, it sounds tolerant. Who am I to tell you what’s best for you, right?  In practice, moral relativism is what allows young people to justify having sex with multiple strangers in front of millions of viewers.

This isn’t about nostalgia for the “good old days” of Little House on the Prairie. It’s about desensitization — the more we see something, the less it shocks us. Over time, what was once taboo becomes trendy. And eventually, nothing shocks us anymore. That’s where we are.

Shame used to be a guardrail, of sorts. If you cheated, lied, or acted selfishly, others judged you and social consequences followed. Like this scene from the movie Princess Bride. But, shame is dead. Nobody wants to be the morality police in the age of tolerance.

The death of shame leaves guilt as the primary moral compass. Guilt regulates us internally—it’s the little voice of conscience in your head. But, guilt is easily overridden by attention-seeking priorities. Becoming famous now carries more weight than timeless, universal principles of right and wrong. With garbage like this on TV, it’s not surprising that 83% of Americans think U.S. moral values are getting worse. Duh.

And, once we get on the moral slip & slide, we flail around like a hog on ice. Take pornography and polygamy, for example. According to a 2023 Gallup survey, record-high numbers of Americans now view pornography (41%) and even polygamy (23%) as “morally acceptable.” They’re the highest numbers since Gallup started the survey.

The problem with moral relativism is that there is no foundation, no code. What’s right or wrong today is a function of algorithmic reinforcement. See, platforms reward content that shocks or entertains rather than educates or upholds traditional moral standards. Incentives distort what behaviors are normalized. Shame is dead today, replaced by the applause of strangers.

Reintroducing shame doesn’t mean we return to public stonings or scarlet letters. It means we rediscover humility — the kind that whispers. It means teaching children that dignity is more valuable than fame. It means understanding that there’s a difference between being seen and being known.

Because, shame, when healthy, wasn’t designed to destroy you. It is meant to save you — from everyone — but mostly from yourself.

I’d love to hear your thoughts - and 99% of thoughtful messages will hear back from me. (1% margin for error cause, you know, I’m human.)

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