The third horsemen in the Four Horsemen is defensiveness, which is defined as self-protection in the form of righteous indignation or innocent victimhood in an attempt to ward off a perceived attack. Many people become defensive when they are being criticized, but the problem is that its perceived effect is blame. It is usually a counterattack to a complaint, which is not criticism.

What does defensiveness look like?

Everyone has been defensive, and this horseman is almost always present when relationships are on the rocks. When you feel unjustly accused, you fish for excuses so that your partner will back off. But defensiveness is a way of blaming your partner. You’re saying, in effect, “The problem isn’t me, it’s you.”

Complaint: “Did you call your parents to let them know that we’re not coming tonight as you promised this morning?”

Defensiveness: “I was just too busy today. You know how busy my schedule is! Why didn’t you just do it?”

The defensive partner in this example isn’t taking responsibility for breaking their promise. Instead, they blame their partner. As a result, the problem is not resolved and the conflict escalates further, which paves the way for other horsemen, like criticism and contempt, to enter into the argument.

Unfortunately, this strategy is almost never successful. Excuses just tell your partner that you don’t take them seriously, or you’re trying to get them to buy something that they don’t believe, or you’re simply blowing them off. Although it is perfectly understandable for this partner to put up a defense in the example given above, this approach doesn’t have the desired effect. The attacking spouse does not back down or apologize. They fail to solve the problem.

The antidote to defensiveness? Take responsibility.

The antidote to defensiveness is to accept responsibility for your role in the situation, even if only for part of the conflict. In healthy relationships, partners don’t get defensive when discussing an area of conflict.

Complaint: “Did you call your parents to let them know that we’re not coming tonight as you promised this morning?”

Antidote: “Oops, I forgot. I should have asked you this morning to do it because I knew my day would be too busy. Let me call them right now.”

John Gottman talks to Anderson Cooper about defensiveness in the first half of this short clip:

Partners who avoid defensiveness instead take responsibility for their role in the issue and express an interest in their partner’s feelings. They say, “You’re right, I could have been more aware of how exhausted you were. What you are saying makes some sense, tell me more.” Having acknowledged that you have some role in the problem, you are accepting responsibility for a part of it. When you do this, you will find that you can have a real dialogue with your partner. You become a team working through the problem together.

Think about perpetual problems in your relationship, those problems that come up often and never seem to go away.

Is the TV on too much?

Do you feel like your partner is away all the time?

Are you overburdened with housework?

Do you feel like you spend too much time arguing about little things?

Imagine the conversations, arguments, and fights you have about conflict areas going differently, with less criticism or contempt and more understanding your partner’s needs, expressing your needs in a healthy way, and taking responsibility for things that went wrong. If these discussions crop up all the time, you’ll be sure to benefit from handling them in a healthier way. Think about these two things when bringing up a particular problem:

• What is your goal?
• What is the real problem underlying the conflict?

When you have time, make a list of the subjects you want or need to address—the ones that never seem to get resolved. Write down your desired way for the conversation to go. Using the examples above, try to replace defensiveness with taking responsibility the next time the subject comes up. Also, don’t forget what you learned about criticism: complain without blame and express a positive need. You will be happily surprised with the results!

Understanding defensiveness

Defensiveness is a tough one in that it is a more passive behavior than contempt or criticism. We may not even realize that we are entering into a defensive state.

When you become defensive in a conversation with your partner, you react to their words without listening to what they’re saying.

More often than not, you attempt to ward off the perceived attack by turning the tables on them. “It’s not my fault that we’re always late; it’s your fault.” 

Non-verbal communication

Remember that non-verbal cues are constantly exchanged in conversation, often picked up subconsciously by your brains while you are busy processing something else in the interaction. Whether you realize it or not, they are vital to your interpretation of the speaker’s intent. Tone, body language, facial expression, and other external effectual signs are often internationally recognizable, not particular to any cultural or ethnic group.

You can all read eye-rolling as contempt, and feel a listener’s turned-away body language as a sign of withdrawal. However, other non-verbal cues are not as recognizable. You may not even be aware that you are doing it.

You may have the best intentions when you come into a conversation, but even the most positive attitude cannot last in the face of serious misunderstanding. Though you may have your partner’s best interests in mind, if they misinterpret your message, you’re likely allowing more horsemen into the situation: criticism can evoke a defensive response, followed by a contemptuous statement, leading to emotional withdrawal and stonewalling.

Keep your focus on avoiding criticism and contempt, and you can hold off the rest much more easily. Practice paying attention to your responses and those of your partner. Try accepting responsibility and see the benefits of your results. Your relationship may begin to feel safer, more stable, and more intimate than ever before.

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Father’s Day always leads me to reflect on the tapestry of father figures who shaped my life. While my biological father is still with us today, his journey and ours as a family took an unexpected turn when I was eight years old.

The Father I Knew Before

Before his health crisis, my father was dynamic and ambitious, rising quickly through corporate ranks. Like many career-focused fathers of his generation, he had limited time for his children. This wasn’t unusual. His own father had been emotionally distant with a short temper. I accepted this as normal, never questioning the relationship we had.

Then everything changed. A congenital aneurysm led to a brain operation where my father nearly died. The surgeon later told us he’d held my father’s brain in his hands while placing a silver clip on the affected artery. When my father finally returned home months later, he looked the same but was fundamentally different. The ambitious executive was gone, replaced by someone who struggled to maintain employment and retreated into solitary translation work.

The Gottman Lens: Understanding Emotional Absence

Dr. John Gottman’s research shows that emotional attunement and connection between parents and children are critical for healthy development. When a parent is physically present but emotionally disconnected, what Gottman might describe as an “emotionally absent” parent, children often seek that emotional connection elsewhere.

This perfectly describes my childhood after my father’s operation. While physically present in our home, my father was emotionally unavailable. My mother, now the primary breadwinner, was physically absent for long hours. This fundamental shift upended our family’s emotional ecosystem.

Father Figures

What saved me was what Gottman might call my “emotional community,” the network of caring adults who collectively provided the guidance, support, and modeling I needed. The neighborhood literally raised us:

A neighbor who would correct us when we misbehaved outdoors, offering the boundaries I craved.

A friend’s father who greeted me with bear hugs, showing me physical affection I rarely experienced at home. His warmth taught me that men could be openly affectionate.

A Nobel laureate in economics who took me under his wing, introducing me to concepts that would later influence my career path. His intellectual guidance filled a crucial gap in my development.

One of my most profound childhood memories came when I was about seven years old, riding in the backseat of a friend’s car. I noticed something I’d never seen before: my friend’s parents were holding hands across the front seat. This simple gesture of affection between two adults completely blew my mind. My own parents were never touchy-feely, so witnessing this casual intimacy. This small but meaningful bid for connection left an impression that has stayed with me my entire life. I instantly knew this was something I would strive for in my own relationships.

These relationships weren’t mere substitutes. They were authentic connections that provided what Gottman calls “emotion coaching.” Each adult offered different pieces of the fatherhood puzzle: discipline, affection, intellectual guidance, and role modeling of healthy relationships.

Building Your Emotional Skill Set

Gottman’s research emphasizes that children need adults who validate their emotions and help them develop emotional intelligence. Through my patchwork of father figures, I received various forms of emotional education:

I learned the importance of physical touch and affirmation from my friend’s gregarious father. Every bear hug told me I mattered.

I gained intellectual curiosity and academic discipline from the economist. His patience with my questions showed me the value of mentorship.

I understood boundaries and consequences from neighbors who supervised our outdoor play. Their consistency created safety in my unpredictable world.

This diversity of influences gave me a broader emotional education than I might have received from a single father figure. Each relationship added new dimensions to my understanding of masculinity, responsibility, and care.

The Fathers We Become

Though I haven’t become a biological father myself, these collective influences formed a template for the kind of father I aspired to be: present, engaged, and emotionally available. Gottman’s research confirms that we often parent based on the models we observed, either replicating positive examples or deliberately choosing different paths from negative ones.

My experience taught me that fatherhood isn’t solely biological. It’s relational. The essence of being a father is showing up emotionally for children, providing guidance, and creating safe spaces for growth and learning. These are principles at the heart of Gottman’s approach to parenting.

Celebrating Fathers and Father Figures

As we celebrate fathers this year, I’m grateful not just for my biological father, who did the best he could with the challenges he faced, but for all the men who unknowingly shared the responsibility of guiding me to adulthood.

Gottman’s research reminds us that resilient children often find the emotional connections they need, whether through parents or other caring adults. My story isn’t one of deprivation but of abundance, finding father figures all around me when I needed them most.

This Father’s Day, I celebrate all who take on the sacred role of fatherhood, whether through biology or relationship. In Gottman terms, it’s not perfect parenting that children need, but authentic connection, and sometimes that connection comes from unexpected sources.

While recent research shows that many modern families feel increasingly isolated without the traditional “village” to help raise their children, my experience reminds us that communities of care still exist. We just might need to recognize them in new forms. Today’s children may face more structured, isolated lives than generations past, but the human need for multiple caring adults hasn’t changed.

Happy Father’s Day to all who nurture, guide, and support the next generation in whatever capacity you serve. Whether you’re a biological father, a neighbor who takes time to teach a skill, or a friend’s parent who offers a different model of relationship, you’re part of someone’s village. And in a world where connection sometimes feels harder to find, that village matters more than ever.