Maybe some of Jim Boylen’s drill-sergeant goofiness would work on Mitch Trubisky

What happens when a coach calls out a player publicly for a poor performance? Anarchy, we’re told. The unraveling of the social fabric. Teammates turning against each other. Fathers disowning sons. People being forced to watch endless “Friends’’ reruns.

Or, as was the case Saturday in Charlotte, the called-out player scores 49 points, including a last-gasp three-pointer to win the game. Bulls guard Zach LaVine did that the night after coach Jim Boylen had pulled him against the Heat.

After the Miami game, Boylen told reporters he hadn’t been pleased with LaVine’s defense in the first quarter. Fair being fair, LaVine wasn’t the least bit pleased with Boylen’s criticism, suggesting to media members that, the last time he checked, he wasn’t the only Bull getting scored on.

So what did LaVine do? Did he poison his team? Did he go on strike in the effort department? Did he give flesh to every coach’s fear of losing his team? No, he was apparently so angry at being made the scapegoat that he lit up the Hornets, making 13 of 17 three-pointers. Cause giving way to effect.

This is not a defense of the goofy Boylen, who can’t seem to make up his mind between being a drill sergeant or an encounter-group leader. If you hear a player from another team cackling, there’s a good chance someone has just told him about the time clock Boylen has his players punch at the team’s practice facility. Just a bunch of blue-collar factory workers making millions of dollars a year.

But when did it become such a terrible thing for a coach to point out, publicly and specifically, what a player is doing wrong? And, more to the point, is there any way the Bears can borrow Boylen for a moment to light a fire under Mitch Trubisky?

Has there ever been a more protected player in Chicago sports history? And none of that protection against a tidal wave of criticism from fans and media has made him a better quarterback. No matter how hard Bears coach Matt Nagy tries to sell the idea, there doesn’t seem to be much hope that Trubisky is going to improve. Not with his lack of accuracy and his inability to grasp an offense.

But what if Nagy, instead of waxing poetic about something few of us see in Trubisky, had criticized him Sunday after his two-interception game against a -Giants defense put on earth to raise passer ratings? What if he had said in his postgame press gathering that Mitch’s play was inexcusable? That Trubisky wouldn’t know how to read a defense if an opposing defense handed him its game plan and said, “Read this.’’

Two possible outcomes:

† Trubisky crawls into a shell and plays poorly against the Lions on Thanksgiving, in which case, so what? That’s how the season has gone anyway.

† Or Trubisky, incensed that his coach would embarrass him like that, goes on to have good games against the Chiefs or the Packers, big-boy opponents.

Nothing else has worked. Why not?

But here’s the bigger question: Why is the truth to be avoided at all costs?

Somewhere along the line, it became the worst thing ever in the NFL for a coach to criticize a player or for a player to criticize a coach or a teammate. Public criticism apparently points to a lack of control, and if there’s one thing that control-freak head coaches can’t abide, it’s that.

What this is about, mostly, is job retention.

Coaches worried about losing their locker rooms are coaches who are worried about losing their jobs. In the NFL, there is no greater sin than having a team in turmoil. Losses are bad. Players pointing fingers at each other is much, much worse. Owners are on the lookout for it. Or at least coaches have come to believe that owners are on the lookout for it. It’s why Nagy has spent so much time this season gushing about the way his team has “stayed together” while the losses have piled up.

Tell me again why I’m supposed to care.

NFL players live in a bubble. They make mistakes, but if their coaches don’t mention the transgressions in news conferences, then those mistakes didn’t happen. When players hear coaches publicly criticizing them, they’re sure they see their earning power decreasing. Again, this is about money and saving one’s butt.

The irony in all of this is that Trubisky was the most honest person about his performance against the Giants. He said his mistakes were unacceptable, and he was right. But you didn’t hear Nagy say it in those terms. He talked about a miscommunication between Trubisky and Allen Robinson on one interception. Of the second interception, Nagy said that Trubisky surely wanted the badly underthrown pass back. A stinging rebuke, it wasn’t. More like a hand playfully tousling Mitch’s hair.

I’m not advocating for a steady diet of tough love. Just some occasional honesty. Sometimes it has an effect, possibly even the good kind. Imagine that.