Stockholm Syndrome ?

When you’re so used to the hum of a faulty generator that its sudden silence feels louder than the noise ever was. Or when the constant, low-grade stress of navigating daily life becomes such a background rhythm that you almost don’t notice it anymore.

It’s a peculiar human trait, our ability to adapt to less-than-ideal circumstances, to find comfort in the familiar, even when the familiar isn't really good for us.

Well, sometimes this survival mechanism takes a dark and twisted turn. It morphs into something far more complex, a psychological bond that forms between captor and captive, abuser and abused. It’s a connection that, from the outside, makes absolutely no sense.

Why would someone defend the person causing them harm? Why would they feel gratitude for mere crumbs of kindness? This paradox has a name: Stockholm Syndrome.

It’s a documented psychological response that plays out not just in hostage situations, but in toxic relationships, damaging workplaces, and even in how we interact with the systems around us. It’s the invisible chain that keeps people locked in cycles of hurt, often without them even realizing it.

Where the Name Even Came From: The Norrmalmstorg Robbery

To really get it, we have to go back to the beginning. August 23, 1973, Stockholm, Sweden. A failed bank robber named Jan-Erik Olsson took four employees of the Sveriges Kreditbanken hostage. For six long days, the world watched as a standoff unfolded inside the bank vault.

But then, something strange happened. The hostages began to side with their captor. They criticised the police efforts to rescue them. One of the hostages, Kristin Enmark, famously called the country’s Prime Minister from the vault, telling him she was afraid of the police, not Jan-Erik. After they were finally rescued, the hostages defended their captor, and even raised money for his legal defence.

Psychiatrists and criminologists were baffled. They had to put a name to this bizarre display of loyalty and empathy under duress. They called it Stockholm Syndrome. It wasn’t a planned reaction; it was a primal, unconscious strategy for staying alive. When your life is entirely in another person’s hands, identifying with them, seeing their humanity, earning their favour, becomes a powerful tool for survival. Your brain, in a way, decides that if you can’t beat them, your best chance is to join them psychologically.

The Psychology of Bonding with a Captor

So how does the human mind perform such a confusing flip? It’s not about being weak or foolish. It’s a sophisticated, albeit desperate, coping mechanism built on a few key pillars:

  • A Perceived Threat to Survival: The victim believes, on a deep level, that the abuser will kill or seriously harm them. The threat feels real, imminent, and inescapable.

  • Small Acts of Kindness: This is the crucial twist. The captor isn’t cruel every single second. They might offer a scrap of food, a blanket, a few kind words, or simply not carry out a threat. Against a backdrop of terror, these tiny mercies feel enormous. The victim’s perspective shifts from "This person is hurting me" to "This person is choosing not to hurt me right now. They are showing me mercy."

  • Isolation from Other Perspectives: The victim is cut off from the outside world, literally in a hostage situation, or emotionally in a toxic relationship. They have no other frame of reference. The abuser’s worldview and justification for their actions become the only reality.

  • A Path to Survival: The subconscious calculation is simple: "If I make this person like me, if I show them I’m not a threat, if I am helpful and compliant, I might survive this." This isn’t a conscious thought process; it’s an instinctual drive.

This combination rewires the victim’s feelings. The immense gratitude for those small kindnesses overshadows the anger and fear they should feel towards their captor. They start to see the police or anyone trying to help as the real threat, because any intervention could disrupt the fragile "safety" they’ve negotiated and trigger the abuser’s violence.

It’s Not Just in Bank Vaults: Spotting Stockholm Syndrome 

While full-blown Stockholm Syndrome is rare in extreme hostage scenarios, its fingerprints are all over more common, everyday situations.

In Abusive Relationships: This is perhaps the most common modern manifestation. Think about a person who stays with a partner who belittles them, controls their movements, and isolates them from family. The outside world screams, "Why don't you just leave?" But from inside, the calculus is different. The abusive partner isn't monstrous all the time. There are moments of apology, gifts, and loving affection, the "small kindnesses." The victim, isolated from friends, starts to believe they deserve the treatment, or that their partner’s jealousy is a sign of passion. They might defend their partner fiercely to concerned relatives, believing that no one else understands their "special" bond or the reasons for the abuse.

In Toxic Workplaces: Ever worked for a boss who demands the impossible, publicly humiliates staff, and yet occasionally throws a pizza party or gives a vague compliment? Entire teams can develop a form of Stockholm Syndrome. They bond over their shared misery, working 80-hour weeks to please an unpleasable manager. They feel a twisted sense of pride for surviving the abuse and see employees at healthier companies as "not tough enough." They’re grateful for their job, even as it destroys their mental health, because the boss’s occasional approval becomes their primary source of validation.

In Systemic and Societal Contexts: On a broader scale, you can see echoes of this syndrome in how people relate to oppressive systems or leaders. When populations are kept in a state of fear and uncertainty, small concessions or propaganda portraying the leader as a protector can foster a misplaced sense of loyalty and gratitude among some.

The Signs and How to Break Free

Recognising these patterns is the first step toward breaking them. The signs are often subtle:

  • Defending the Undefendable: Making excuses for someone who consistently causes you harm.

  • Gratitude for the Bare Minimum: Feeling overwhelmingly thankful for basic decency or for periods when the abuse stops.

  • Fear of Rescue: Distrusting or pushing away people who try to help you or point out the unhealthy dynamic.

  • Adopting Their Views: Starting to believe the abuser’s justification for their behaviour ("I stress him out," "I probably did deserve it," "The boss is just under a lot of pressure").

  • A Sense of Helplessness: A belief that there is no way out and that your survival depends on staying in their good graces.

Breaking free is incredibly difficult because the chains are psychological. It often requires:

  • An Outside Perspective: Talking to a neutral third party, a therapist, a counsellor, a support group, can help re-establish a normal frame of reference. They can reflect the reality of the situation back to you without the emotional fog.

  • Education: Simply understanding that what you’re experiencing has a name and is a documented survival response can be powerfully liberating. It removes self-blame.

  • Creating Safety: Ultimately, the bond breaks when the perceived threat is removed. This means finding a way to physically and emotionally exit the situation, which is often the most dangerous part. It requires a safety plan and support.

You May Ask

Is Stockholm Syndrome a officially recognised mental disorder?


No, it’s not listed as a distinct diagnosis in the main manuals psychiatrists use, like the DSM-5. Experts see it more as a coping strategy or a psychological response to trauma rather than a standalone illness. This doesn’t make it any less real or impactful for those who experience it; it just means it’s categorised as a symptom of a traumatic experience.

Can the effects be reversed?

With time, distance from the traumatic situation, and proper support, often through therapy, the distorted bonds of loyalty and gratitude can fade. Therapy can help a person process the trauma, understand what happened to them psychologically, and rebuild a healthy sense of self-worth and boundaries. It’s a journey of unlearning a survival instinct that is no longer needed.

Does this mean victims are responsible for their situation?

Stockholm Syndrome is an unconscious, involuntary response to extreme trauma and terror. It is a testament to the human brain's incredible power to adapt to survive, not a choice or a character flaw. Blaming a victim for developing this bond is like blaming someone for bleeding when they’ve been cut. The responsibility lies entirely with the person who created the climate of fear and abuse.


The story of Stockholm Syndrome is ultimately a story about the incredible, and sometimes heartbreaking, lengths our minds will go to in order to keep us alive. It’s a reminder that captivity isn’t always about physical bars on a window; sometimes, the most powerful prison is the one built in our own minds from fear, isolation, and twisted gratitude.

Recognising these invisible chains in the stories around us, or perhaps in our own reflections, isn’t about assigning blame. It’s about fostering understanding. It’s about replacing the question "Why don't they just leave?" with a more compassionate and accurate one: "What incredible psychological survival mechanism is keeping them there?" And with that understanding, we can become better at offering the one thing that can truly break the cycle: a safe, steady, and unwavering hand held out in genuine support.