What Happens When You Stop Telling Stories?
A woman protesting at a rally against US President Donald Trump's second state visit. Parliament Square, London. September, 2025 © Matt Mahmood-Ogston
Silence is never neutral. When you stop telling stories, someone else will fill the space.
And rarely with the truth.
The danger of silence
If you’re not telling authentic stories about your work, your cause, or your community, you’re not just “taking a break.”
You’re giving in.
You’re giving in to negative narratives. You’re giving in to fear dressed up as fact. You’re giving in to bad actors who thrive on division.
Because stories are powerful. They shape what people believe is possible - and what they fear. If you leave the field empty, those who want to exploit fear will gladly take over.
What I saw at the protests this summer
I’ve attended a number of marches and protests over the summer.
What struck me most wasn’t the banners, or the chants, or even the scale of the crowds. It was the stories.
Raw, authentic stories of people displaced from their homes. Individual stories of some of the 65,141 people killed in Gaza - each one a life, a family, a future taken. Trans individuals facing erasure in public spaces after court rulings that strip away protections. Communities resisting far-right protests dressed up as “patriotism.” Citizens torn from their neighbourhoods by forced removals. LGBTQ+ people being attacked - not by fringe groups, but by democratically elected leaders who should be safeguarding them.
These stories triggered an emotion. They made people stop. Listen. Feel.
That’s the power of storytelling. It transforms headlines into human realities. And it’s why silence is so dangerous - because when we don’t tell our stories, the human cost disappears.
Why so many hold back
Here’s what I hear again and again when I work with charities, B Corps, and social impact teams:
We don’t have the confidence to tell stories.
We’re waiting for permission.
We’re afraid of getting it wrong.
These fears are real. Especially when you’re dealing with vulnerable individuals.
Sensitivity matters. Dignity matters. Consent matters.
But holding back completely? That only strengthens the narratives you’re working against.
The importance of capturing stories
When someone tells you a story, it changes you.
It sparks an emotional response. It makes you see the world differently.
But if you don’t capture that story - if you don’t write it down, record it, store it, or build a workflow for your team to use it - then what happens?
Does the story exist at all? Can it be proven? Or does it drift away, replaced by whatever louder, easier narrative comes next?
That’s the trap we can’t afford to fall into.
Why telling stories matters now more than ever
Every story told is an act of resistance against disinformation.
Every story shared is proof that people are living through real challenges - and creating real change.
And every story documented becomes part of our collective memory. A record that cannot be erased or rewritten.
Because if you don’t tell your story, someone else will. And their version may not be true.
How to respond
If you want to make sure your stories don’t vanish, here are three steps to start today:
Create a workflow for capture. Audio files, written notes, short videos - whatever works for your team. Just don’t let stories disappear. If you have a smartphone, you already have all the tools you need to capture a story.
Prioritise dignity and consent. Stories must be co-created with the people at the centre. Protect them, involve them, and respect their boundaries.
Share creatively and consistently. Don’t bury stories in long reports no one reads. Share them in ways that stop the scroll, catch attention, and invite people to listen.
The truth about silence
When you stop telling stories, you don’t just lose momentum.
You lose trust. You lose influence. And you hand the microphone to those who want to divide, distort, and disempower.
So tell your stories. Tell them louder. Tell them bigger. Tell them in ways that people can’t ignore.
Because united by our stories, we can’t be silenced.
