During an argument you can say things you don’t mean, but it can be stopped
When we argue with loved ones, the brain sometimes behaves as if we’re being threatened by a predator. Our pulse quickens, heat washes over us, our hands tremble. Empathy evaporates and is replaced by the urge to defend or attack. And by the end of the day, an argument can lead to sleeping separately. Clinical psychologist Trudy Meehan explained the neurobiology of this process and offered concrete tools to prevent conflict from destroying relationships.
Why We Get Angry During Arguments
This state has a scientific name — emotional flooding. The term was introduced by renowned relationship researcher John Gottman back in the 1990s. The essence is simple: during a conflict with a partner, child, or colleague, the body triggers the same fight-or-flight response as when facing real danger. The heart pounds, adrenaline floods the bloodstream, palms sweat, thoughts become confused.
This is not a metaphor or exaggeration. When the pulse rises above a certain threshold, the cerebral cortex, which is responsible for rational thinking, literally gives way to the amygdala — our anxiety center. As a result, we can neither listen, nor explain, nor empathize. The brain decides that now is not the time for diplomacy — survival is what matters.
It’s important to understand that this happens automatically. A person doesn’t choose to switch off empathy — their nervous system does it on its own, trying to protect them from a perceived threat.
How the Brain Predicts Events
Psychology professor Lisa Feldman Barrett suggests imagining the brain locked in a dark, quiet box — the skull. It has no direct access to the world: all it receives are signals from the sense organs — light, air pressure changes, chemical molecules. These signals are meaningless on their own.
To understand what’s happening around it, the brain draws on past experience and constructs predictions. It doesn’t react to the world — it anticipates it. Usually this works brilliantly: we catch balls, dodge obstacles, and understand speech faster than we can consciously process it.
But in conflict, this mechanism can work against us. If in the past a partner’s averted gaze was associated with rejection, inattention, or loneliness, the brain instantly fills in the picture using the old template and triggers anxiety, even when there is no real threat. The more conflicts, rejection, or trauma a person has experienced, the more sensitive this early warning system becomes. The brain turns into a detector with the threshold set to minimum.
How the Brain Shuts Off Empathy During Arguments
The most unpleasant consequence of emotional flooding is the instant loss of the ability to empathize. Research shows that when shifting into a negative emotional state, a partner transforms from an ally into an adversary.
Empathy is the first thing that shuts down in survival mode. This is why during arguments people say things they don’t mean, accuse and defend instead of listening. And this is precisely why it’s pointless to continue a conversation when both participants are “flooded.”
At the same time, you can’t simply blame your neurobiology and absolve yourself of responsibility. Our physiological states don’t exist in isolation: we regulate each other’s nervous systems — calming or, conversely, escalating. This means that each person bears part of the responsibility for what happens in the other person’s nervous system.
This is especially acute in parent-child relationships. When a child “misbehaves,” the most useful reaction is curiosity: what is this behavior trying to communicate? But a “flooded” parent is far more likely to respond sharply or defensively, instead of showing the openness that the child actually needs.
In a state of emotional flooding, partners lose the ability to hear each other
How to Calm Down During an Argument
The good news: flooding can be managed. Research and clinical practice offer three concrete approaches. They were described by the authors at Science Alert.
Real-time awareness of your state. The ability to notice early physical signs of flooding — heat, rapid pulse, tension in the body — provides a tiny window of choice before the brain completely takes over. This is a skill that develops over time, not a switch that can be flipped instantly.
The second tool is cognitive reappraisal. This is the conscious insertion of a different narrative between the trigger and your reaction. When a colleague sighs and says “do we really need a meeting about this?”, the brain will instantly offer one interpretation — most likely an offensive one. Reappraisal asks: what else could be true? Maybe the person is just tired. Maybe they have pressing deadlines.
An important nuance: this is not suppression of emotions. Suppression, as research shows, only intensifies flooding. Reappraisal is about expanding the range of possible reactions, not trying to crush your feelings.
The third and simplest technique is to leave the room. But not by slamming the door or going silent as punishment — rather by agreeing with your partner in advance on a word or phrase that means: “I need a break. I’m not abandoning you.” The break should last at least 20 minutes, because that’s how long the body needs for neurotransmitters to complete their full cycle and for the pulse to return to normal. It’s best to spend these minutes doing something genuinely distracting: a walk, music, breathing exercises — rather than mentally replaying the argument.
This technique works for parents too. Briefly stepping away and explaining to the child that you’re not punishing them but taking a pause to calm down is a far better model than continuing the conversation in a flooded state.
The ability to notice the first signs of stress is a key skill in emotional self-regulation
A Pulse Oximeter as a Home Argument Helper
Some people find it difficult to recognize their own physiological signals. In such cases, biofeedback through devices can help. Researchers John and Julie Gottman, who studied couples in conflict situations for decades, used simple pulse oximeters in their laboratory — small fingertip devices that measure pulse and blood oxygen levels.
They tracked what happened to participants’ bodies during arguments, and ultimately recommended using the same devices at home as a concrete, measurable way to learn to calm down before flooding takes over. When you see on the screen that your pulse has jumped to 100 beats per minute, it’s far more convincing than the abstract advice to “calm down.”
This approach doesn’t replace working with a psychologist, but it provides a tool that can be used right at the moment of conflict. It’s especially useful for those who are accustomed to ignoring their body’s signals — and there are quite a few such people.
Everything described above is not a call to avoid conflicts. Friction is a normal part of any relationship — romantic, family, or professional. Trying to completely eliminate it would be both exhausting and counterproductive. The goal is to remain present and regulated enough to maintain empathy even when your brain is screaming “run.” Understanding why your brain “shuts down” is already the first step toward preventing it from doing so.
