“Show, don’t tell” advice in action

Most people reading this blog have probably heard the advice “show, don’t tell.” Writers say it. Teachers say it. Marketers say it. It’s one of those phrases that sounds wise, but often sits there like a slogan on a mug. Helpful in theory. Harder in practice.

So where did this idea come from?

“Show, don’t tell” grew out of fiction writing. Early writing instructors noticed that weak stories explained too much. They told you what a character felt instead of letting you experience it. Strong writers did the opposite. They showed the world. They revealed emotion through behavior, scenes, and detail. You didn’t have to be told someone was angry. You could see the clenched jaw. You could hear the short answers. You could feel the tension.

And here’s the key thing. Showing works better because your brain treats it like an experience, not a lecture. Instead of being handed a conclusion, you build it yourself. That makes it feel more real and more believable.

And this doesn’t just make storytelling more compelling. It also makes communication more persuasive.

So let’s explore how that works. Imagine you want to convince your child not to get a tattoo. You sit them down. You tell them all the reasons. You quote statistics about infections. You cite research about skin reactions. You talk about the permanence and the regret.

But it falls flat. Why? Because your child already has reasons of their own. Meaning. Identity. Self-expression. Friends who have tattoos and love them. Every logical point you raise has a rebuttal waiting. So the conversation turns into a debate. And in debates, people usually defend their views. They don’t replace them.

Show them what's happening

But what if you took a different approach? Rather than trying to convince, what if you tried helping people see? What would change if you stopped telling people what to do, and started showing them what’s happening?

Think of your best logical argument against getting a tattoo. Hold that thought.

Now imagine saying something more like this:

“Tattoos aren't just ink. They are an endless war. Your body sends cells to eat the dye, but the particles are too heavy. So the cells choke, die, and get trapped under your skin. Then new cells come to eat the dead ones. Forever. You aren't seeing art. You're seeing millions of dead soldiers holding the line.” Source

Notice what happened? You didn’t argue. You didn’t instruct. You didn’t say “don’t do it.” You painted a picture. You reframed what a tattoo is. Not art. Not expression. A permanent battlefield under the skin. A war your body never wins.

That’s “show, don’t tell” at work

It’s more effective at changing minds because it reaches people through meaning and imagery instead of resistance and logic. It doesn’t trigger defensiveness. It gives the brain something to visualize. It lets the listener arrive at their own conclusion. Which means it sticks.

And here’s the deeper truth. Most persuasion fails because it starts from the outside and pushes in. Stories work because they start from the inside and grow out.

So how do you tell a story like that?

First, you have to actually understand the thing you’re talking about. That means going deeper than most people do. Learning how something works. Asking why. Understanding the mechanics, the history, the emotional weight. You can’t choose the right image or metaphor unless you see the full picture. Real insight is what lets you find the story hiding underneath the facts.

Second, you shift from telling people what something means to showing them what it looks like. Not “tattoos stay in your body.” But “cells choke on ink particles and die trying to carry them away.” Not “meetings waste time.” But “twelve people sit in a room arguing over a bullet point while their real work waits quietly in their inboxes.” You translate abstraction into experience.

Third, you let the listener connect the dots. You resist the urge to hammer the conclusion home. You don’t add “and that’s why tattoos are bad.” You let silence do the work. When people arrive on their own, the belief is stronger. It feels like theirs. Because it is.

And finally, you stay honest. “Show, don’t tell” isn’t about manipulation. It’s about clarity. It’s about revealing what was already true in a way that people can actually feel and understand.

If there’s one idea to walk away with, it’s this: Stop trying to control what people think. Start helping them see the world more clearly. When the picture changes, the conclusion often takes care of itself.