Relationships
How To Stop Arguments From Spiraling
Research shows small gestures can ease conflict before it does real damage.
Posted July 6, 2026 Reviewed by Monica Vilhauer Ph.D.
Key points
- Conflict isn't the problem. Escalation is.
- Repair attempts stop arguments from spiraling.
- Repair attempts help you catch the spiral before hurt, anger, and stonewalling take over.
Early in my training as a child and family therapist, I worked with two people who loved each other deeply but fought terribly. They were warm, funny, and generous, but when conflict erupted between them, they became almost unrecognizable. Arguments would spiral fast, their voices would rise, and within minutes they'd be so entrenched in their respective positions that the original issue had long since disappeared beneath the hurt, anger, and defensiveness.
They were also devoted Monty Python fans. That may seem utterly irrelevant, but it turned out to be one of the most useful things I knew about them.
One day, near the end of yet another session spent excavating the wreckage of a particularly bad fight, I suggested we try something completely different. What if they had a ritual for the moment they sensed conflict beginning to spiral—something so unexpected and absurd that it would interrupt the escalation before it took on a life of its own?
We settled on a rubber parrot, a nod to Monty Python's famous Dead Parrot sketch, which they knew word for word. The rule was simple: whenever an argument started getting out of hand, one of them had to grab the parrot and start smacking it on the floor.
And what happened?
It was remarkable. The moment one of them started whacking the rubber parrot, they'd dissolve into laughter. The tension softened. Their nervous systems settled. And suddenly, they could actually talk to each other again.
The parrot didn't solve their disagreement. It saved the conversation.
What we had stumbled onto, without quite knowing it, was what psychologist John Gottman later called a repair attempt.
What the Research Shows
For decades, Gottman observed couples in his laboratory at the University of Washington, watching them navigate everything from everyday friction to the kind of conflicts that never fully go away. He then followed them over many years to see which relationships flourished and which struggled.
What he found was striking. The couples who stayed together weren't the ones who avoided conflict. They were the ones who knew how to interrupt it before it became destructive.
The difference lay in something deceptively simple: small gestures made in the heat of conflict that lower emotional intensity before hurt and defensiveness take over. Gottman called these repair attempts, and his research suggests they are among the strongest predictors of long-term relationship health.
A repair attempt can take many forms: a touch on the arm, a moment of humor, saying, "Wait—can we start over?" or "I'm not trying to attack you. I just need you to hear me." Even a small smile, offered early enough, can shift the emotional temperature of a conversation.
The rubber parrot, it turns out, was simply a repair attempt—an unusually silly one, but particularly effective because it belonged to them. It drew on something they loved and shared, making it easier to interrupt the negative spiral before it gained momentum.
Why Repair Is So Hard
If repair attempts are so powerful, why don't we use them more often?
The answer lies in what happens to our bodies during conflict. As an argument escalates, our nervous systems begin responding as though we're under threat. Our amygdala, the brain's alarm center, starts firing. Our heart rate increases. Stress hormones flood the body. Gottman called this state flooding. When we're flooded, the parts of the brain responsible for empathy, perspective, and creative problem-solving become far less accessible. We're no longer really having a conversation. In fact, it can feel more like combat than connection.
In that state, reaching toward the other person—offering humor, softening our voice, or extending a small gesture of connection—requires overcoming a deeply wired impulse to defend ourselves. That's why repair attempts are most effective early in a conflict conversation, before both partners become too flooded to hear each other.
The encouraging news is that repair attempts are remarkably learnable. Couples who use them well often develop a shared repertoire over time: shorthand phrases, private signals, little rituals that belong only to them.
The specific gesture matters less than the message behind it.
"Hey, let's not let this moment become hurtful. Our relationship matters more than winning this argument."
What This Looks Like in Practice
Repair attempts don't require grand gestures or perfectly chosen words. Some of the most effective are the simplest: a pause, a breath, an acknowledgment that things are getting too heated. "Can we take a break and come back to this?" is a repair attempt. So is, "I think I'm getting defensive—give me a minute." So is reaching out to touch someone's hand or knee in the middle of an argument.
What matters is catching the spiral early—before contempt takes hold, and before the conversation leaves wounds that linger long after the disagreement itself has ended.
Conflict isn't the problem. Every relationship has it. What distinguishes couples who thrive from those who struggle isn't the absence of conflict. It's what happens in those critical moments when the emotional temperature begins to rise.
