Beyond Words: The Silent Power and Dangerous Misuse of Nonverbal Communication
What we don’t say can build trust, deepen connection, or lead to devastating misreadings—nonverbal communication is powerful, but only when understood in context.

Nonverbal communication—the language of gestures, glances, posture, and tone—has long been seen as the invisible force that drives human connection. You’ve probably heard the often-quoted claim that 93% of communication is nonverbal. It’s a powerful idea—but one wrapped in misunderstanding.
From hospital rooms to courtrooms, from healing breakthroughs to ethical breakdowns, this article explores the myth, the science, the missteps, and the personal stories that reveal both the promise and the peril of reading between the lines.
The 93% Myth: Where It All Began
The famous “93% of communication is nonverbal” statistic stems from research by psychologist Albert Mehrabian in the 1970s. His findings showed that, in conveying emotionally charged messages, 55% of the impact comes from facial expressions, 38% from tone of voice, and just 7% from words. But crucially, this only applied to situations where verbal and nonverbal cues are inconsistent—like saying “I’m fine” while obviously upset.
Taken out of context, the statistic has misled generations into undervaluing the role of actual language. In reality, the importance of verbal vs. nonverbal communication shifts depending on the setting, culture, relationship, and purpose.
What Really Counts as Nonverbal Communication?
Nonverbal communication isn’t just body language. It includes:
Facial expressions (a frown or smile)
Gestures (a wave, a shrug)
Posture (open vs. closed stance)
Eye contact (or lack of it)
Tone and pitch of voice
Touch and personal space
Appearance and clothing
These cues can complement, contradict, or entirely replace verbal communication. But interpreting them is rarely straightforward—especially across cultural, neurological, or emotional divides.
Joan Figueroa: Healing with Presence, Not Just Words
Joan Figueroa, MSN, RN, AHN-BC, HWNC-BC, serves as a nurse leader in well-being and diversity at a major U.S. hospital system. With over two decades in clinical care, Joan has become a champion for integrating nonverbal communication into patient-centered care—ethically and compassionately.
Early in her career, Joan noticed how patients in crisis—whether due to grief, medication, or fear—often fell silent. But silence didn’t mean absence. She began to recognize critical cues: a curled foot indicating pain, avoidance of touch hinting at trauma, or a deep exhale signaling surrender.
In one profound case, Joan cared for a terminally ill man who had become withdrawn and was labeled “uncommunicative.” But through subtle hand motions and posture changes, she discerned discomfort with certain caregivers and uncovered unspoken requests—ultimately leading to changes in care that gave him comfort and dignity in his final days.
Joan didn’t guess—she asked, she observed, and she listened without rushing to interpret. Her approach birthed a hospital-wide initiative to train nurses in reflective presence and empathetic observation, improving patient outcomes and reducing caregiver burnout.
Her story underscores what responsible nonverbal communication can achieve: real human connection without assumptions.
When Assumptions Turn Harmful: Tell Them You Love Me
In stark contrast to Joan’s careful, consent-based approach is the deeply troubling story told in Netflix’s Tell Them You Love Me. The documentary chronicles the real-life case of Anna Stubblefield, a Rutgers philosophy professor who claimed to have developed a romantic and sexual relationship with Derrick Johnson, a nonverbal Black man with cerebral palsy.
Stubblefield claimed their relationship was built through facilitated communication (FC)—a discredited technique in which a facilitator supports the arm or hand of a nonverbal person to help them type messages. Despite a lack of scientific validation, Stubblefield interpreted Derrick’s gestures and responses as signs of mutual affection and consent.
However, scientific studies and legal testimony concluded that the messages likely originated from the facilitator herself. Facilitated communication has been widely debunked, with research showing that the facilitator can unknowingly steer the responses. The technique has been banned in many educational and therapeutic institutions due to ethical concerns.
Though Stubblefield was initially convicted of sexual assault (later overturned on procedural grounds), the case highlights a core danger: projecting meaning onto someone who cannot verify or contest your interpretation.
The Truth Lies in the Context
So, what separates healing from harm? The answer is context and consent.
Research from UC Berkeley shows that people interpret facial expressions accurately only about 50% of the time. Without context—especially when culture, trauma, neurodiversity, or disability are in play—misinterpretation becomes not just possible, but likely.
Joan Figueroa’s success came from observation without assumption. She understood that a single gesture could mean many things depending on the moment. Her interventions were never based on silent cues alone; they were invitations to further connection, never conclusions.
In contrast, Stubblefield’s case shows what happens when interpretation becomes imposition—when nonverbal “truths” are treated as confirmation for personal desires, without the safeguard of verification.
Nonverbal Communication Is Not a Shortcut to Truth
Nonverbal communication is real. It’s powerful. But it is not a universal truth-teller, and it’s certainly not a substitute for consent or clear understanding.
Used with intention, humility, and ethics, it can foster trust, empathy, and healing—just as it has for Joan Figueroa and the patients she’s touched. But in the absence of boundaries and scientific rigor, it can be dangerously misused.
At its best, nonverbal communication is not about reading minds—it’s about honoring presence.