In the days, weeks and months after my dad’s suicide in 2008, one question kept me awake at night. Could I have said something that might have helped? Looking back, I was unprepared for dealing with someone struggling with his mental health.
If there is a central theme to my work now it is the bystander. I was present in the run up to my dad’s death. I was in a position to do something. The problem was I didn’t know what to do. Since then, I’ve often put myself in my shoes before my dads death and thought through what I could have said. Today I would know exactly what to say. What has helped me was rehearsing.
This past week the public disorder in both Belfast and Glasgow has overshadowed another aspect of the horrible event that took place on the street in Belfast. Despite the extreme violence passers-by acted and its clear their actions interrupted what would likely have been a murder.
When psychologist Philip Zimbardo launched the Heroic Imagination Project, he challenged a powerful assumption. Most of us think heroes are rare people who emerge in extraordinary moments. Zimbardo argued the opposite. Heroism begins long before the crisis. It begins with how we imagine ourselves. Do we see ourselves as the kind of person who would step forward? Would we challenge a friend making threats? Check on a vulnerable passenger? Speak up in a workplace meeting? Interrupt behaviour that is clearly wrong?
The “heroic imagination” is the practice of mentally preparing ourselves to act before the moment arrives. This matters because when harm unfolds, there is rarely time for deep reflection. We rely on habits, identity and preparation. The people who intervene are often not the strongest, bravest or most powerful people present. They are simply the people who have already decided that intervention is part of who they are.
Belfast and the Power of One Decision
The recent stabbing in Belfast provides a stark example of both violence and heroism. Reports suggest that bystanders intervened during the attack, helping to stop the assailant and prevent further harm. One individual who became widely praised for his actions later redirected public attention toward supporting the victim rather than celebrating himself. That is heroic imagination in action.
These individuals did not know when they woke up that morning that they would encounter a life-threatening situation. Yet when the moment arrived, they acted.
What would you have done if you were present in Belfast? Dr Ervin Staub defines a bystander as “someone who is present and, in a position, to do something”. This definition presents us all with only two choices, do nothing or do something.
In these and other situations involving harm, what is often overlooked, is that intervention opportunities frequently emerge long before violence becomes visible. Every serious incident has a history.
Arguments escalate.
Threats are made.
People become isolated.
Warning signs appear.
Friends notice changes.
Colleagues hear concerning comments.
Family members observe behaviour that worries them.
Violence rarely arrives without a build-up. The challenge is that these earlier opportunities rarely feel dramatic enough to justify action. People wait for certainty. They wait for someone else. They wait for proof. By then, the window for prevention may have closed.
The same dynamic can be seen in the aftermath of the Belfast stabbing. While some people intervened to stop the attack, many others in the wider community faced a different choice when tensions escalated. Community volunteers, local residents and organisations stepped forward to support vulnerable families and oppose retaliatory violence directed at innocent people. Heroism is not only stopping a knife attack. Sometimes it is refusing to let fear, prejudice or anger spread afterwards.
The Train Carriage Test
Consider a different scenario. A crowded train. A woman is being subjected to unwanted comments or persistent harassment. Everyone nearby notices. Nobody acts.
Most passengers are not cruel. Most disapprove of what is happening. Yet many remain silent. Why? Research on bystander behaviour provides the answer. People look to others for cues. If nobody reacts, the situation appears less serious. People worry about overreacting. They fear embarrassment. They tell themselves somebody else will intervene. This is exactly why heroic imagination matters.
The person who acts is often not the person with the most confidence.
It is the person who has previously asked themselves, “What would I do if I saw someone being harassed?” That simple mental rehearsal changes everything. Intervention does not need to be dramatic. It could involve sitting beside the victim. Starting a conversation. Creating a distraction.
Alerting transport staff. Checking on someone afterwards. Remember delaying action isn’t cowardice, its strategy.
The heroic imagination transforms intervention from an abstract ideal into a practical behaviour.
The Workplace Is Full of Bystander Moments
When people hear the word “heroism”, they often think about emergencies. Yet most opportunities for courage occur in ordinary workplaces. A manager humiliates a colleague. A team member is repeatedly excluded. Someone makes inappropriate comments. Conflict is allowed to fester. Rumours spread unchecked. A junior employee raises a concern and is ignored.
Nobody is facing physical danger. Nobody is bleeding. Yet harm is occurring. In these situations, many organisations focus exclusively on procedures and policies. Policies matter but policies do not intervene, people do. The real question is whether employees have developed the mindset required to act. Many workplace failures are not failures of knowledge. Most people know what is right, they also know what is wrong
They simply do not know how to overcome the psychological barriers to acting.
Hierarchy makes this particularly difficult. Research consistently shows that authority influences behaviour. When the person causing harm is senior, intervention becomes harder. Employees fear consequences. They worry about relationships. They question whether it is their place to get involved. The heroic imagination addresses this challenge by shifting identity. Instead of asking “Do I have the authority to intervene?” People begin asking “Do I have the responsibility to intervene?” That subtle change is transformative.
Prevention Starts Earlier Than We Think
One of the most important lessons from violence prevention is that intervention is most effective before a crisis develops. The same principle applies to harassment, bullying and workplace conflict. Many organisations invest heavily in responding to incidents. Far fewer invest in preparing people to prevent them.
This is where the heroic imagination becomes powerful. It teaches people to anticipate situations rather than merely react to them. Imagine if every employee regularly considered:
How would I challenge disrespect?
How would I support a colleague experiencing harassment?
How would I de-escalate conflict?
How would I respond if a friend was becoming violent?
How would I speak up if others remained silent?
Those questions create psychological readiness. When the moment arrives, intervention feels familiar rather than frightening.
Building Communities of Everyday Heroes
The most important contribution of Zimbardo’s work is that it removes heroism from the realm of exceptional people. Heroism is not a personality type. It is not reserved for police officers, soldiers or emergency responders. It is a habit. A mindset. A way of seeing ourselves.
Communities become safer when enough people adopt that identity.
The Belfast bystanders who intervened during a violent attack did not possess superhuman qualities. They simply chose action over passivity.
The passenger who challenges harassment on a train does the same.
The employee who speaks up during workplace conflict does the same.
The friend who notices warning signs before violence occurs does the same.
Different situations. The same psychological process. The heroic imagination is not about imagining ourselves as heroes after an incident.
It is about imagining ourselves as active bystanders before one occurs.
When enough ordinary people begin to see intervention as part of who they are, prevention stops being the responsibility of a few professionals and becomes the responsibility of an entire community.
In many ways, we are all heroes in waiting.
grahamgoulden.com 