Great Storytellers Are Good Manipulators
Manipulation Is Subjective
This morning, I opened an email from Nathan Baugh’s newsletter and tripped over a thought I couldn’t shake. He described Shane Gillis testing jokes at an open mic—tweaking lines, reading the crowd, steering their laughter. It felt like manipulation, but not the creepy kind. It was sharp, deliberate, and left everyone grinning.
Then it hit me: We hate narcissists who twist words to mess with our heads, but we love comedians and storytellers who pull the same trick. What’s the difference?
That question flipped a switch. Storytellers—whether comics, writers, or parents—shape how we feel and think, guiding our reactions in ways we don’t always notice. But why do we cheer one and curse the other? Is it the craft? The intent? The result? I kept circling the idea that great storytellers are manipulators—just the good kind. Their skill sits on a fine line, balancing between art and artifice.
That’s what I want to explore: how storytelling wields emotional power, why we judge it the way we do, and how it plays out in everyday life. Because maybe manipulation isn’t the villain we think it is.
Emotional Manipulation in Storytelling
Cheryl Strayed’s Wild pulls readers into a raw journey of loss and redemption. She lays bare her grief and grit, making us feel her pain as if it’s ours. That’s manipulation—steering our emotions, immersing us in her story. But we don’t mind because the payoff is real. We walk away inspired, reminded that struggle can lead to growth.
Pixar’s Up does this too. That opening montage—Carl and Ellie’s life in minutes—hooks us with joy, then heartbreak. We barely know these characters, yet we’re invested. That’s not an accident. It’s a carefully crafted pull on our nostalgia and empathy, making the story unforgettable.
This is storytelling’s power: it taps into something universal—joy, sorrow, hope. Writers, filmmakers, and comedians don’t just tell stories; they make us feel them. And when that emotional pull leaves us richer—emotionally, intellectually, socially—it’s a gift, not a trick.
Manipulation Is Subjective
Manipulation gets a bad rap—think con artists and liars. But context changes everything. A teacher spins a wild tale to spark a student’s curiosity—not entirely true, but it ignites learning. We call that clever. A scammer weaves a sob story to steal cash—same technique, but now it’s wrong. The act—storytelling—stays the same; our judgment doesn’t.
This is why storytellers walk a fine line. If their goal is to connect or uplift, we see it as a skill. If it’s selfish or harmful, we call it deceit. A filmmaker might play on our fears to make a thriller gripping—acceptable if we enjoy the ride, manipulative if it feels exploitative.
It all comes down to trust. If we’ve been misled before, even a well-meaning story might feel off. But in the right hands, manipulation isn’t inherently good or bad—it’s just a tool. The difference lies in how it’s used.
The Good Kind of Manipulation
Storytelling isn’t just for books or movies—it shapes everyday life.
Parents tell kids that carrots are “brain food” to encourage healthy eating. It’s a stretch, but if it gets them to eat vegetables, does it really matter? They spin tales of “future success” to push homework effort. It’s a bit of a trick, but it builds discipline.
Coaches do it too. A halftime speech full of underdog stories gives a team the energy to push through. The words alone don’t win the game, but they fuel the fight.
Marketers tell stories about “saving the planet” to sell eco-friendly products. We buy, the earth benefits, and the sales pitch fades behind the result.
Therapists use storytelling to help patients reframe trauma, shifting pain into resilience. Politicians use it to rally people around hope, shaping public action.
It’s all calculated. It’s all manipulation. But when it leads to something good—better habits, stronger communities, personal growth—it stops feeling like a trick and starts feeling like a force for good.
Conclusion
That newsletter about Shane Gillis reframed manipulation for me—storytellers use it with skill, shaping our reactions for the better. They’re “good” when their craft delivers—laughter, insight, healing, growth.
The stigma around manipulation fades when we see what it can build. Because in the end, the outcome matters more than the method.