Has Defensive Reasoning Quietly Held Gaelic Back
- Oct 6
- 2 min read
For decades, Gaelic has been caught in a strange loop: a language fiercely loved, yet chronically under-supported by its own systems. To understand why, you have to look beyond funding or policy and into how people think when the stakes feel high.
Enter defensive reasoning — a concept from Chris Argyris, a Harvard organizational psychologist who studied why smart people and good causes can stay stuck. It happens when individuals or institutions act to protect themselves from embarrassment, threat, or loss of face instead of examining the real problem. The result is a culture of justification, not learning.
Gaelic has seen plenty of this.
1. The fear of failure over honest reflection
Many Gaelic projects run on passion and limited resources. When they underperform, the instinct is often to highlight what did go right — attendance, engagement, “raising awareness” — rather than ask, “Why didn’t more people continue?” or “What assumptions about learners were wrong?”That’s defensive reasoning in action: protecting morale and reputation at the expense of insight. It creates a safe narrative, but it quietly stunts improvement.
2. The expert paradox
Within Gaelic development circles, expertise is prized — and rightly so. But when deep knowledge turns into gatekeeping (“We already tried that,” “That’s not how Gaelic works,” “The community won’t accept it”), it blocks the kind of experimentation that revival movements need. Argyris would call this a Model I mindset — controlling the environment, winning arguments, avoiding vulnerability. The alternative, Model II, invites testing assumptions and learning in public. Gaelic needs more of that courage.
3. Institutional self-protection
Policy bodies and educational institutions often speak the language of inclusion, but their decision structures can reward predictability over innovation. Risk-averse committees, legacy funding models, and internal politics create a culture where nobody wants to be the one whose idea “fails.”So programmes repeat with slight variations, evaluation stays superficial, and everyone says they’re “doing their best.” It’s comfortable — and paralysing.
4. The learner’s mirror
Even learners get caught in defensive loops. Gaelic’s status and complexity make it emotionally charged. When progress stalls, it’s easier to say “Gaelic is just hard” or “I don’t have the time” than to question study habits or learning environments. Communities mirror leadership: if the system models defensiveness, individuals absorb it.
5. What breaking the loop would look like
A shift from defensive to learning-oriented reasoning would mean:
Evaluating what’s not working without fear of blame.
Inviting outsiders to challenge assumptions.
Valuing reflection and experimentation as much as output.
Letting data — not pride — guide decisions.
Treating Gaelic as a living system, not a fragile relic.
The uncomfortable truth is that Gaelic’s greatest barrier may not be English dominance or government funding. It’s the quiet, well-meaning defensiveness that keeps the same patterns on repeat.
Real revival will begin when people inside the movement can say, “Maybe we’ve been protecting the wrong things.”
That’s when learning — and real change — can finally start.
