Humankind
Book Author | |
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Published | September 3, 2019 |
Pages | 462 |
Greek Publisher | Κλειδάριθμος |
A Hopeful History
What’s it about?
Humankind (2020) is an optimistic study of its namesake. For centuries, the message seemed to be carved in stone: Humans are evil by nature, and only the veneer of civilization keeps us from terrorizing and murdering each other. The author Rutger Bregman aims to dispel that prejudice and reveal that our essential nature is peaceful and friendly. Perhaps humanity – as recent discoveries from disciplines like archeology and criminology suggest – is actually much less selfish than we think.
About the author
Rutger Bregman, born in the Netherlands in 1988, proves that a historian can also be a best-selling author. In his 2017 book Utopias for Realists, Bregman made the case for a universal basic income, open borders, and a 15-hour workweek. He’s also known for ruffling feathers at the World Economic Summit in Davos, in 2019, where he called out billionaires for tax avoidance.
Basic Key Ideas
Humans are innately bad. Just watch the news. We fight. We cheat. We murder and lie and steal. Our beastly natures are only held in check by government, with its laws and regulations, its punishments for every crime.
In such a world, it’s the people who think only of themselves – the egoists among us – who get ahead. It’s dog-eat-dog out there, and only the fittest will survive.
But wait a minute. Is that really the case? Or is this merely a story we’ve told ourselves for centuries, a lie so familiar that we mistake it for the truth?
If you look at the latest scientific findings, from archeology to criminology, you’ll discover a completely different narrative. We are not bad. We are not selfish. And if you don’t believe it, these blinks are here to tell you otherwise.
In these blinks, you’ll learn
- how British and German soldiers managed to celebrate Christmas together during World War I;
- why news is a “nocebo”; and
- what a Homo puppy is.
Do you know what Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin, Benito Mussolini, Winston Churchill, and Franklin Roosevelt have in common? Yes, all their names are splashed across history. But that’s not all. They were each influenced by the same book: The Psychology of the Masses, by the French author Gustave Le Bon.
In the book, Le Bon explains that in crises like war, the masses panic and gradually regress to their true nature, which is violent and selfish. In other words, when people fear for their lives, they become barbarians, concerned with nothing but their own well-being.
Hitler had Le Bon’s ideas in mind when he sent 348 Luftwaffe bombers to London in 1940. He believed that, in the rain of bombs, the people of London would become panicked and barbarous, aiding in their own overthrow.
What actually happened when the bombs began to fall must have come as a surprise.
The key message here is: Crises like war don’t automatically make us barbarians.
In the year before the German Luftwaffe’s “Blitz,” which killed more than 40,000 people in London alone and destroyed entire neighborhoods, the British public built emergency psychiatric wards in a desperate attempt to prepare for the anticipated panic.
But these facilities remained empty. Countless observers described how the British went about their daily lives more or less normally, even though air raids had long been underway. Children played, shoppers haggled, and trains continued to run. Londoners calmly drank their tea, despite windows bursting in the background, shattered by the detonation of bomb upon bomb.
Not only did Londoners remain unexpectedly calm – in many ways, they were psychologically and mentally better than ever before. Of course there was heartrending grief and deep mourning. But alcohol abuse decreased, and fewer people committed suicide. When it was all over, many Londoners even longed for wartime, because of the widespread camaraderie and solidarity it promoted. People helped each other out far more than they did under normal circumstances.
In short, the people of London defied Hitler’s expectations and disproved Le Bon’s theory.
The existential threat by no means brought out the worst in people. Rather, it made them less selfish. Contrary to Le Bon’s thesis, the crisis of the Blitz strengthened British society in many respects. Hitler had achieved the exact opposite of his actual goal.
You’ve surely heard the slogan “Keep Calm and Carry On.” Nowadays, it’s emblazoned on countless T-shirts and cups, endlessly riffed on and satirized. But did you know it was originally developed by the British Ministry of Information to preserve British morale during the Second World War? Posters urging stoic endurance were printed by the million.
Today, many people believe that resilience is a quintessential part of the British character – and that Britons’ calmness during wartime was proof of this. But really, the trait is a human one. Countless other examples confirm that people don’t panic in the face of disaster, let alone regress to savage impulses. After the September 11 attacks on the Twin Towers, for example, supposedly selfish New Yorkers routinely risked their own lives to save the lives of others. The crisis encouraged solidarity, not savagery.
Here’s the key message: The idea persists that humans are, at bottom, selfish.
Time and time again, history shows that extreme situations bring out the best in us. The Disaster Research Center at the University of Delaware, for example, was able to determine, on the basis of 700 field studies, that we behave much less selfishly after disasters. In the wake of catastrophe, the number of murders, thefts, and rapes generally decreases. But despite these facts, the notion that humans become brutes in such circumstances is still widespread.
After hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans in 2005, newspapers published fearmongering headlines about looting “gangsters” and murdered infants. In a public statement, Louisiana’s governor concluded that Katrina had drawn back the curtain on human nature. Disasters bring out the worst in people, he said, and his words went viral.
Only when the sensationalizing journalists left the city and the news cycle moved on did it become clear what had really happened: the residents had not succumbed to anarchic, antisocial behavior. Sociologists discovered that most people had in fact behaved prosocially. Looting did occur, but it was usually carried out by Robin Hood-like groups who used looted food to ensure their own survival and that of their fellow human beings – sometimes even banding together with police. So Katrina confirmed more recent scientific findings that strongly suggest that humans are selfless, not selfish.
And yet we persistently cling to our negative image of humanity. This was shown in a study conducted by two American psychologists in 2011. In the study, researchers had subjects evaluate various situations in which people help others. For example, they showed someone returning a lost wallet. To their astonishment, the participants repeatedly attributed selfish motives to those who acted helpfully. Even when the researchers showed participants statistics indicating that the vast majority of people never kept the wallet, most participants remained convinced that the behavior had to be selfishly motivated. It seems that the negativity bias has a firm hold on our imaginations.
It doesn’t matter whether you’re on the left or the right side of the political spectrum; almost everyone has a bleak outlook on humanity. But why do we see the world so negatively? Why do we think people are fundamentally egoistic? The answer can be found where most of us get our information: the news.
An event is usually only considered newsworthy if it is extraordinary – and, in most cases, that means extraordinarily disastrous. The news is a pageant of pain and misfortune: an attack here, a natural disaster there. You’ll never see a headline announcing that war was not declared in Europe today.
The result of all this negativity is predictable enough. It turns people into pessimists.
The key message here is: News and fictional stories worsen our view of humanity’s nature.
The news is negative by nature. Every day, we’re exposed to stories that strengthen our belief in the bad. The effect this has on us is similar to that of a nocebo. A nocebo is like a placebo, but negative. When you take a placebo, you expect it to have a potent and positive effect on your health, even if, in truth, it contains nothing more than sugar. And this very expectation can, in fact, have positive effects. Nocebos work the other way around. When you take one, you expect a negative outcome – and you may well feel worse as a result. The news is essentially a relentless intravenous drip of nocebo, delivered straight to society’s jugular vein.
Not only the news has a nocebo effect on our outlook. Fiction also has the power to reinforce our pessimistic self-image. One example is the novel Lord of the Flies, a book that helped win its author, William Golding, the Nobel Prize.
Golding wanted to write a “true” story about how children would behave if they landed on a desert island. In the novel, chaos breaks out and several children die. He was celebrated for an allegedly realistic account of what people are actually like without the force of law to prevent them from attacking each other.
Rutger Bregman had doubts about the underlying truth of this story. He wondered what children would really do if they were stranded on a desert island. He dug around for a real Lord of the Flies story, and stumbled upon a 1966 account of six children stranded on a remote island in the South Pacific for 15 months.
But these children didn’t behave like the kids in Golding’s novel. In real life, anarchy didn’t reign. The children made a pact to allow no quarrels. Moreover, they managed to start a fire and keep it burning for over a year, and they remained friends long after their rescue.
So which story captures the truth?
Is the heartwarming case of the real Lord of the Flies an anomaly – an uplifting exception to the disheartening rule? Or is there actually something that determines whether we behave well or badly when cut off from society?
Thinkers have grappled with this question for centuries. The seventeenth-century English philosopher Thomas Hobbes assumed that humans in their natural state are “bad” – they behave only in their own self-interest. He believed that without a state, rules, and laws, humanity would be in a constant “war of all against all.” As we have seen, this worldview is still prevalent today.
But unlike Hobbes, we’re now in a position to go beyond philosophical conjecture. We have evidence from multiple disciplines that offers a more empirical picture of human life before the dawn of civilization.
The key message here is: Humans aren’t evil by nature.
Until recently, both fieldwork and archaeological excavations seemed to confirm Hobbes’s view of the world. The US anthropologist Napoleon Chagnon, for example, studied the hunter-gatherer Yanomami people living in the Amazon region. In his 1968 book The Fierce People – the best-selling anthropological text of all time – Chagnon postulated that the Yanomami were in a permanent state of war.
The 2011 book The Better Angels of Our Nature, by psychologist Steven Pinker, presents a statistical account of the Hobbesian perspective. On the basis of excavated skeletons, Pinker showed that in prehistoric times about 14 percent of people must have been victims of war; in short, they’d been murdered. In modern times, the worldwide murder rate, despite the persistence of war, stands at one percent. In keeping with Hobbes’s tradition, Pinker concluded: “It was only civilization that was able to tame the warlike barbarian in us.”
But both Pinker’s conclusion and Chagnon’s observations about the Yanomami were flawed. For starters, the Yanomami are not representative of how our pre-civilized ancestors lived. When Chagnon published his book, the Yanomami had been in contact with farmers and modern city-dwellers for quite some time. In addition, it turned out that Chagnon had given them axes and machetes during his field research. He’d then asserted that they were particularly violent.
And Pinker’s numbers? They’re simply wrong. Twenty of the 21 excavations he cited, which led him to calculate a 14 percent murder rate among hunter-gatherers, came from a time after agriculture had been invented and people had settled down. Hardly robust evidence to support the Hobbesian notion that pre-civilized people were barbaric!
And so the question remains: How did we really live and behave before we became civilized – that is, before we settled down and began to cultivate land about ten thousand years ago? To answer this question, why not turn to the archivists of the Stone Age – the artists who painted fact and fiction, history and myth, across that age-old canvas, the cave wall?
Cave paintings offer insight into the lives of our nomadic ancestors. But no cave paintings from the nomadic period have been discovered that depict violence or wars. Hunting scenes, however, are depicted often – so the violent deaths that skeletal remains exhibit don’t necessarily testify to human violence. They could just as easily have resulted from conflicts with animals.
The key message here is: Human evolution isn’t about survival of the fittest, but survival of the friendliest.
Anthropologists studying our past now assume that violence among groups of wandering hunter-gatherers rarely occurred. Instead, they mingled, worked together, and learned from each other. Those who were particularly good at collaboration stood the best chance of survival and had the most children. Nature didn’t favor the strongest or the most selfish but the most cooperative.
But it’s not enough just to look at cave paintings and skeletal remains when drawing conclusions. Our faces and bodies also hold clues to support this theory.
Fascinatingly enough, our friendliness is evidenced by our facial features. The faces of modern humans are often softer, rounder, and “cuter” than the faces of our ancestors. In other words, humans have domesticated themselves. As with the evolution of dogs, we’ve been selected for our cute faces and friendly dispositions. We’ve become what Bregman calls Homo puppy.
Our eyes are also evidence of our ultrasocial nature. In the animal kingdom, we’re unique for showing the whites of our eyes. This allows others to know exactly where we’re directing our attention, which enables trust and cooperation. Other primates, with their tinted eyeballs, have much more effective poker faces.
Survival of the friendliest is evident not only in our appearance, but also in our intelligence and the way we learn. Individually, we’re not so smart. Comparisons between babies and monkeys show that we only perform better in one category of intelligence, “social learning” – in which we outperform chimpanzees and orangutans by a wide margin. We’re so good at learning things from each other that one could say cognitive ability and cooperative ability are two sides of the same coin.
So we’ve determined that the Hobbesian worldview can’t be true. How, then, did Homo puppy become violent in the first place? Because – and this is the elephant in the room – it can’t be denied that we are, despite our puppyish features and dispositions, capable of committing violent acts.
Let’s consider the history of philosophy once again. Nearly one hundred years after Hobbes concluded that human nature is base and barbarous, the French Romantic philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau reached the opposite conclusion. In his view, humanity isn’t innately evil and corrupt. It’s fundamentally good, but was corrupted by civilization.
The key message here is: Civilization turned humans violent.
Recent archeological investigations reveal that, near the end of the first ice age, when societies became more settled, humans began building the first military fortifications. Around this same time, archers began appearing in cave paintings, and excavated skeletons from the period actually do exhibit clear evidence of human violence. And, if you think about it, it’s pretty obvious why we became violent: there was now land to fight over and crops to defend. In short, people suddenly possessed property.
Property made us suspicious of other people. Before, when we were still hunter-gatherers, there were looser definitions of what belonged to whom. Where we belonged was also unclear. Wandering hunters and gatherers had no fixed tribe. They would encounter new groups and simply merge with them. All this changed when humans started settling down. We evolved from wandering cosmopolitans to mistrustful xenophobes.
The emergence of violence can also be linked to the development of hierarchies within civilizations. Prior to the establishment of large and populous settlements, rulers found it difficult to remain in power, because nomadic life did not allow inequality to take hold. Paleoanthropological evidence suggests that hunter-gatherer societies developed shame-based systems to hold individuals in check; whenever someone attempted to control others, the group would use shame and peer pressure to cut the person back down to size.
But with the emergence of sedentary societies around 10,000 years ago, powerful people could no longer be dethroned with a bit of gossip and teasing. Leaders could suddenly gather warriors around them, which helped cement their power. And now that rulers command vast armies, it’s not as if they can be dethroned with just a disparaging comment or tweet.
Maybe all these arguments seem pretty logical to you. Science is only substantiating what many have believed all along – that humans are essentially good and would prefer to do others no harm. But how do we square this with history’s atrocities, such as the Holocaust?
Well, the answer to this is hidden in another question – a question that Allied scientists asked themselves in 1944: How could it be that even in the face of immediate defeat, German soldiers continued to fight? In fact, research revealed that German Wehrmacht soldiers fought almost twice as effectively as Allied soldiers. Even their desertion rate was close to zero. This puzzled the Allied researchers. Just what was going on with the Nazis?
The key message here is: Our capacity for empathy also has a dark side.
One of these researchers, the American sociologist Morris Janowitz, had been commissioned to find out why the German soldiers fought so doggedly, despite being vastly outnumbered and utterly surrounded. Like other psychologists of his time, Janowitz could only account for their actions in one way: the soldiers were under the sway of an ideology, brainwashed to love the fatherland obsessively.
Allied forces attempted to fight this ideology with propaganda of their own. The Psychological Warfare Division dropped countless pamphlets over German territory, each with the same message: Your position is hopeless! The Allies will prevail! But it didn’t work. The Nazis ignored them. And why? Because the researchers’ assumptions about the Germans’ motivations were all wrong.
Only when Morris was given the chance to interrogate captured German soldiers directly did he realize that they weren’t brainwashed. They fought so doggedly because they didn’t want to abandon their neighbors and friends. Most German soldiers were not fanatically devoted to the Nazi cause. They were simply comrades and good friends. Nazi generals knew this well, and took pains to promote camaraderie in their divisons.
So is it possible that even violent criminals are driven by communality and selflessness? To judge from the motives of German soldiers in the Second World War, the answer is a clear yes. They were guided by a very human feeling: empathy. This may seem counterintuitive, but our capacity for empathy sometimes blinds us to the suffering of others.
After all, we can only feel empathy for a small number of people. It’s a bit like the zoom function on a camera. We feel empathy for the people around us – the people we can smell, feel, and hear. But being zoomed in in that way leaves a lot out. It’s worth remembering that empathy inevitably excludes more people than it includes.
Empathy is double-edged: it cuts two ways. It ensures that we fight for our family, friends, and neighbors. But it also enables us to kill for them. When it’s a matter of life and death on the battlefield, we depart from our friendly disposition and resort to violence – or so we often assume.
But this assumption is also false. We don’t suddenly become barbarians on the battlefield. Even in extreme situations like war, when face-to-face with the enemy, humans generally find it very difficult to pull the trigger and kill another person.
Here’s the key message: Humans avoid violence whenever possible, even in life-or-death situations.
One of the first people to study this effect was the American colonel and historian Samuel Marshall. In 1943, Marshall attempted to capture the Japanese island of Makin with his 300-person battalion. Despite their superior training and numbers, they failed. Marshall was surprised, and decided to investigate.
Marshall, in a manner unusual for the military, interviewed his soldiers and encouraged them to be honest. What he discovered was astonishing: only 36 of the 300 soldiers had used their weapons. Each soldier hesitated to shoot, whether he’d excelled in training or not.
The death statistics of British soldiers in the Second World War are also telling. The vast majority of them – a full 75 percent – were killed by bombs or mines, meaning that relatively few were shot by someone who had to look them in the face. And even more difficult than shooting people is stabbing them. At the Battle of Waterloo, fewer than one percent of wounds were inflicted by bayonet, even though bayonets were affixed to tens of thousands of rifles.
Series like Game of Thrones may suggest that it’s easy to kill another person. But it’s not. The vast majority of people feel a deep aversion to killing.
We can see this in a famous event from the First World War. Incredibly, on Christmas Day in 1914, German and British soldiers defied orders and suspended fighting. Instead they drank, exchanged gifts, and sang Christmas carols together in the trenches.
Commanders had to force their soldiers to resume fighting. Even then, though threatened with prison sentences and worse, soldiers continued to send each other messages secretly about when the next attack would take place, assuring each other that they would aim their fire too high.
As we’ve seen, war did not occur until we became civilized. The theory that the veneer of civilization falls away as soon as we’re in crisis mode is simply wrong. We often don’t even become violent when violence might make sense, like during wartime. So we’re really not as bad as we think. And if we can internalize this, we may be able to develop a new and better society.
However, if we continue to assume that people will only behave morally under threat of punishment, then there will, of course, be consequences. More and more of the population will need to be locked away – as we see in the United States, where inmates are often crammed into cage-like cells and may be let out for only one hour per week. We need to pause and ask ourselves, Does such treatment truly rehabilitate people convicted of crimes? Does it really promote moral behavior?
The key message here is: We need a new, more realistic view of humanity.
Halden Prison, in Norway, offers a less-punitive approach. Each inmate has his own large room with a flat-screen TV. In Halden, there is no gross cafeteria food – the prisoners cook for themselves. In their free time they can go to the prison’s own recording studio or to the climbing wall, and if the weather is nice, they barbecue in the evening together with the guards. The guards aren’t even armed.
You may think, Surely this can’t be true? Norwegians commit crimes and then are practically rewarded with a cushy stay in prison? The author initially felt this way, until the prison director, Tom Eberhardt, asked him a simple question: Who would you rather have as a neighbor – someone who’d just been released from a typical American prison, or someone who’d been released from a modern Norwegian one?
Statistically, the answer is clear: people who’ve been incarcerated in harsh prisons are ticking time bombs. At 60 percent, the USA has one of the highest recidivism rates worldwide. Yet recidivism among people who serve time in the Norwegian prison Bastøy, which is run similarly to Halden, is only 16 percent. In this sense, Bastøy is the most successful prison worldwide. And because the recidivism rates are so much lower, Norwegian prisons save a lot of money each year.
The idea behind the Norwegian model is that if we treat inmates as though they are responsible, then they will become responsible. And the concept seems to work. Once we believe that most people are good, everything changes. If we’re able to do that, we can start reorganizing not only prisons but also businesses, schools, and – why not? – entire governments.
The key message in these blinks:
For thousands of years, we’ve cultivated a false self-image of humans as inherently selfish. As a result, we often distrust each other. But it’s neither civilization nor the fear of punishment that prevents violent and selfish behavior. In evolutionary terms, we are neither egoists nor murderers: we are friendly and cooperative, as we can see in the way we behave during crises. So it’s high time for a new, more positive view of humanity.
What to read next: Utopia for Realists, by Rutger Bregman
How can there be so much poverty and injustice in a world with so much material prosperity? If you want to read more by Rutger Bregman, check out the blinks to Utopias for Realists, which show that we have to rethink our economy if we really want more justice. A passionate appeal to the collective imagination, and a wake-up call with concrete suggestions for change, the blinks to Utopia for Realists make for an excellent next read.
SECOND REVIEW FROM SHORTFORM
About Book
What lies at the core of human nature? If you stripped away civilization, would we be fundamentally compassionate creatures? Or would we cheat, lie, and steal, with only self-interest in mind? In Humankind, historian Rutger Bregman suggests that most of us think of humans as naturally deceitful and cruel, seemingly with a lot of evidence to back us up: Throughout history, groups of humans have gone to war, committed genocide, and owned slaves.
But despite our history of evil, Bregman argues that humans are fundamentally good. In this guide, we’ll go into detail on why he thinks this, explaining his claim that humans evolved to be kind, not to kill. We’ll discuss his critique of Killer Ape Theory and the Stanford Prison Experiment, two pieces of evidence that often justify the idea that humans are inherently evil. We’ll also compare his view of human nature with those of other authors such as Philip Zimbardo (The Lucifer Effect) and Daniel Kahneman (Thinking, Fast and Slow).
What lies at the core of human nature? If you stripped away civilization’s laws and norms, would we be fundamentally compassionate creatures? Or would we cheat, lie, and steal, with only self-interest in mind? In Humankind, historian Rutger Bregman argues that humans are fundamentally good. Using scientific studies from archaeology and psychology, he claims that our species evolved to be friendly and compassionate. When we do evil things, he maintains, it’s not because we’re evil by nature, but for a variety of other reasons, including our desire to conform and to act for the greater good.
Bregman suggests that this idea—that human nature is good, not evil—has important implications for our world. When we see people as fundamentally generous and kind, we’re more likely to form meaningful relationships, help strangers, and fight against injustice. According to Bregman, these actions lay the foundation for a more trusting and peaceful society.
This guide consists of three main sections. First, we’ll explain the long-standing philosophical debate on human nature. Then, we’ll discuss Bregman’s argument that humans are inherently good, reviewing the evidence that he provides. Finally, we’ll focus on why Bregman believes that a more positive view of human nature can change our world.
(Shortform note: Bregman generally organizes his evidence in chronological order, starting with archaeological evidence and progressing to more recent history. He then discusses why it matters whether humans are inherently good or evil. This organization is useful because it lays a solid foundation of historical evidence supporting Bregman’s argument, which he then builds on throughout the later chapters. That said, within each section, Bregman often jumps back and forth between historical periods to discuss specific studies. In this guide, we’ve reorganized and combined some material to further draw out the book’s chronological structure.)
Throughout the guide, we’ll fact-check Bregman’s claims about human evolution and psychology. We’ll also elaborate on his main themes, including the negative impacts of civilization and the reasons why we commit evil. Furthermore, we’ll connect his discussion of human nature to the views of other authors such as Philip Zimbardo (The Lucifer Effect) and Daniel Kahneman (Thinking, Fast and Slow).
The Debate: Are Humans Good or Evil?
For millennia, Bregman explains, philosophers have debated humankind’s true nature. Are we born good and corrupted by civilization? Or does civilization correct and curb our inherently evil nature? According to Bregman, there are two philosophers in particular who’ve shaped this debate: Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Hobbes believed that humans are inherently selfish and cruel, whereas Rousseau maintained that we’re fundamentally decent and want to do the right thing.
(Shortform note: As Bregman notes, Hobbes and Rousseau most famously articulated the two sides of the human nature debate in Western philosophy. But other philosophical traditions have similar debates. For example, in Chinese philosophy, the philosopher Mencius (372 to 289 BCE) made a similar argument as Rousseau, maintaining that we’re inherently good. On the other side of the debate is the philosopher Xunzi (310 to unknown BCE), who, like Hobbes, argued that we’re fundamentally selfish and that our inherent tendencies lead to anarchy.)
Bregman suggests that the debate between Hobbes and Rousseau is far from resolved. Many of our current social and political debates stem from these two conflicting views of human nature, including where to spend government money, how to reform prisons, and how to manage workers. We’ll discuss some of these debates in more detail later in the guide. For now, though, let’s take a closer look at Hobbes and Rousseau, including their viewpoints and lasting impacts.
Thomas Hobbes: Civilization Curbs Humans’ Evil Instincts
Thomas Hobbes was an English philosopher who lived during the 17th century. According to Bregman, Hobbes maintained that humans are fundamentally selfish creatures driven by a desire for power. Before civilization, Hobbes said, this selfishness led to anarchy: Each person sought power for themselves, creating an all-out war. In his most famous book, Leviathan (1651), Hobbes argued that the only way to combat this anarchy was to give up our freedom to a powerful ruler, which he named the “Leviathan.” In his view, the Leviathan would keep order by ensuring that humans’ base instincts didn’t rise to the surface.
(Shortform note: Hobbes’s view of human nature—and his fear of anarchy and war—stem from his life experiences. He wrote Leviathan during a period of civil war in England. On one side of the war were the Royalists, who supported the reigning but unpopular King Charles I and his claim to absolute, God-given power. On the other side were the Parliamentarians, who wanted the elected Parliament to control the government. In 1649, two years before Hobbes published Leviathan, the Parliamentarians executed King Charles I. Hobbes worried that the deposition of Charles would lead to all-out anarchy, hence his assertion that only a powerful sovereign can prevent war.)
According to Bregman, Hobbes’s thinking is foundational to Western society. As we’ll discuss later in the guide, the notion that humans are fundamentally selfish creatures who require a strong hand still informs theories of criminal justice, management, and government.
Hobbes’s Influence on Western Society: Social Contract Theory
As Bregman notes, Hobbes’s philosophy continues to influence our society today. One of the ways it does so is through Hobbes’s introduction of Social Contract Theory, which forms the philosophical basis for many modern governments. Here’s a brief summary of what Social Contract Theory is, how it’s evolved, and why it’s been so important to Western society.
Social Contract Theory states that in a society, citizens must form an agreement, whether real or imagined, that lays out the responsibilities of each individual to the community. As Bregman suggests, Hobbes viewed the social contract as follows: Citizens agree to give up their freedom to an absolute ruler (the Leviathan) in exchange for security and peace.
While Hobbes’s version of the social contract was relatively conservative, later philosophers such as John Locke would build on his work. Locke’s revision of Hobbes’s social contract set the foundation for Western democracy. Whereas Hobbes believed that a government’s only responsibility to its citizens was to maintain security and peace, Locke believed that when citizens created a society through a social contract, the government had an obligation not only to keep them safe but also to protect their rights. Among these rights was the power to choose a legislature.
If this protection of rights didn’t occur, Locke said, then the government broke the social contract and the citizens had the right to rebel. The idea—radical at the time—that the citizens should be in charge of government profoundly influenced the development of early democracies, including that of the United States.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau: Civilization Fetters Humans’ Innate Goodness
On the other side of the human nature debate is Jean-Jacques Rousseau, an 18th-century French philosopher. According to Bregman, Rousseau argued that humans are inherently cooperative and compassionate. He believed that before civilization, we lived free lives guided by kindness and equality. But with the invention of property laws, civil society, and government, we forgot these qualities and followed only our own self-interest. We began to fight and kill each other over property. In other words, Rousseau argued the opposite of Hobbes: that instead of saving us from chaos, civilization distanced us from the best versions of ourselves.
(Shortform note: Bregman implies that Rousseau saw humans as purely unselfish and compassionate. However, Rousseau did acknowledge that human beings have a self-protecting side. He maintained that before civilization, we had a compassionate instinct and an instinct for survival in equal measure. In very extreme circumstances (for example, if we were about to get hurt), the survival instinct would override our sense of compassion to protect us. However, Rousseau claimed that civilization made us lose our compassion, causing the self-protecting instinct to take over.)
Bregman’s View: Humans Are Fundamentally Good
In the debate between Hobbes and Rousseau, Bregman comes down firmly on the side of Rousseau. He maintains that at our core, humans are compassionate, cooperative, and friendly. Over millions of years, our species has evolved to support each other and work together.
This doesn’t mean that we always behave kindly and compassionately: Bregman acknowledges that we’ve done terrible things throughout history, including introducing slavery and committing genocide. However, he suggests that when we commit evil, it isn’t because we’re fundamentally vile and selfish creatures. Rather, in his view, we commit evil for a variety of reasons, including our distrust of strangers, our desire to conform, and our willingness to act for the greater good.
In this section, we’ll discuss Bregman’s claims in greater detail. First, we’ll review evolutionary evidence that suggests that our earliest ancestors were cooperative and friendly. Then, we’ll discuss why Bregman believes the invention of farming destroyed this cooperation. Finally, we’ll turn to more modern evidence that humans are fundamentally kind, and we’ll explain why humans commit evil in Bregman’s view.
Evolutionary Evidence: We Evolved to Work Together
To answer the question of whether humans are fundamentally good or evil, Bregman goes back to the beginning of our species. He explains that our ancestors were nomadic foragers who traveled from place to place, hunting animals and gathering food.
(Shortform note: While Bregman is correct that many of our early human ancestors were foragers, this wasn’t always the case. Evidence suggests that early humans only began to hunt animals and forage plants about 2 million years ago. Before that, our ancestors scavenged meat from animals that other predators had already killed.)
Based on archaeological evidence, Bregman concludes that these early foragers were compassionate and cooperative. He argues that, contrary to popular belief, they didn’t engage in war with each other. In fact, he maintains that humans’ ability to cooperate is the primary reason that our species has survived. Let’s discuss these claims in more detail.
Early Human Foragers Avoided War
According to Bregman, early human foraging groups lived peacefully with each other for millions of years. These groups struggled to survive in the face of harsh weather conditions and predators, but evidence suggests that they didn’t go to war against each other.
Bregman explains that when scientists first discovered the bones of early humans, they theorized that our ancestors were brutal killers and cannibals. In the 1920s, anatomist Raymond Dart studied the skull of an Australopithecus africanus, a human ancestor that lived 2 to 3 million years ago. Based on the skull’s injuries, Dart concluded that these early humans violently murdered one another. He published his theory in the 1950s, calling it “Killer Ape Theory.”
(Shortform note: While Bregman focuses on the development of Killer Ape Theory, Dart’s study of the skeletal remains of Australopithecus africanus also resulted in another important finding: that humans originated in Africa. Charles Darwin had proposed that Africa was the birthplace of humanity in his 1871 book The Descent of Man. But by the 1920s, most theories suggested that the first humans lived in Eurasia, based on skeletal remains found in France and England. Dart suggested that Australopithecus africanus, discovered in South Africa, predated these remains. While his theory was dismissed at the time, later findings confirmed that he was right.)
However, Bregman notes that more recent studies have debunked Killer Ape Theory and revealed that our ancestors were peaceful. In 2006, archaeologists examined the same Australopithecus africanus skull that Dart had studied in the 1920s. They found that the injuries came from a large predatory bird, not from other early humans. Skeletal remains from later in history tell a similar story: According to Bregman, not a single archaeological site suggests that early human foragers fought against each other.
(Shortform note: Bregman argues that the archaeological record doesn’t show evidence of war in foraging societies. However, other authors point out that this doesn’t necessarily mean that war didn’t happen. In a podcast episode featuring Bregman and renowned psychologist Steven Pinker, Pinker argues that some war injuries from prehistoric times—such as cuts and bruises—wouldn’t show up on skeletons. As a result, it’s difficult to draw firm conclusions about the prevalence of war from early human remains.)
Scientists Have Objected to Killer Ape Theory for Decades
Bregman implies that Killer Ape Theory wasn’t debunked until relatively recently. However, paleontologists have questioned and debunked Dart’s theory since its incipience in 1953.
The most prominent among these early critics were C.K. Brain and Elizabeth S. Vrba, whose 1970 study suggested that the injuries to the Australopithecus africanus skull came from leopards, not from other early humans. The researchers noted that two puncture marks in the eye cavities of the skull were exactly the same distance apart as an adult leopard’s teeth. They theorized that the leopard dragged the owner of the skull into a tree—the skull then fell, causing the damage that Dart attributed to an early human bashing the skull with a rock.
While the 2006 study that Bregman cites agreed that a predator, not another early human, caused the damage to the skull, the researchers interpreted the puncture marks differently. They observed that the puncture marks matched those on the skulls of monkeys that had been killed by large eagles. They therefore suggested that the Australopithecus africanus was the victim of an eagle, not a leopard.
Humans Have Survived by Cooperating and Learning
Bregman argues that humans have survived—and thrived—not because of our cruelty or ability to wage war, but because of our capacity for social learning. Social learning is our ability to gain skills and knowledge from those around us through observation and imitation.
According to Bregman, social learning allowed humans to survive because it made us smarter as a species. Evidence suggests that individually, our early human ancestors weren’t as smart or as strong as other species, such as the Neanderthals (Homo neanderthalensis)—another species of early humans that died out about 40,000 years ago. Bregman notes that Neanderthals had bigger brains and a stronger build than our species (Homo sapiens).
If, as Bregman claims, Neanderthals were stronger and smarter, then why did they go extinct while Homo sapiens survived? Bregman explains that social learning allowed early humans to accumulate knowledge and technology—such as tools—more efficiently than other species. Individual Neanderthals and other animals may have been smarter and stronger than individual Homo sapiens. But we were master imitators: Once one Homo sapien developed a tool, she could share it with more connections than Neanderthals could, creating a larger web of knowledge. This ability to share knowledge made our collective species more technologically advanced than the Neanderthals.
In addition to providing a technological advantage, humans’ knack for social learning also helped us survive a changing climate. According to Bregman, one theory suggests that Neanderthals died out because they couldn’t adapt to extreme swings in temperature. On the other hand, humans were able to work together to adapt and survive.
Bregman explains that as humans evolved, we became biologically hardwired to learn from each other. Studies of human skulls suggest that over hundreds of thousands of years, our ancestors’ faces became less threatening and easier to read. Unique among primates, we developed white parts of our eyes, which allowed us to track each others’ gazes. We have less severe and more expressive brows than other species. These physical changes made it easier for us to read each other’s expressions, develop trust, and share knowledge through nonverbal communication.
The Applications of Social Learning in the Business World
Bregman uses the term “social learning” in a scientific context. However, the term is also common in the business world, where an increasing number of companies use “social learning” training programs. Drawing on humans’ innate capacity to learn through imitation, these programs emphasize experiential learning and communication. They use online chat platforms where colleagues can ask and answer questions, thereby gaining knowledge together.
Proponents of using social learning in the business world say that it saves time because employees don’t have to consult their managers when they encounter small, easily solved problems. However, others worry that social learning can spread misinformation and harmful ideas.
The Benefits of Friendlier Faces
Bregman suggests that having more expressive eyebrows and whites in our eyes allows us to share knowledge and read each others’ expressions. However, he doesn’t go into detail on what types of knowledge it allowed us to share. Here’s more information on how humans have used our eyes and eyebrows to convey emotion throughout history.
Researchers suggest that when we were still foragers, having whites in our eyes was useful for nonverbal communication in hunting—a hunter could use a quick glance and flash of white to show where the prey was, allowing humans to be more stealthy and quiet. Being able to track gazes also helps us determine when someone is lying: While there’s some debate about the extent to which this is true, studies have found that people tend to stare more when they tell a lie.
Our eyebrows, which Bregman notes are more expressive than those of other species, also play a crucial role in showing and reading emotion. Research suggests that certain eyebrow movements are universally recognizable across different cultures. These movements include quickly raising the eyebrows to show friendliness and angling the brows downward to express anger. Evolutionarily, these universal eyebrow movements would have allowed early human foragers to communicate across different tribes and figure out whether or not to trust each other.
Shortform Commentary: Fact Checking Bregman’s Claims About Neanderthals
In the previous section, Bregman claims that Neanderthals were stronger and smarter than Homo sapiens, but that humans survived because we were better at learning. However, he leaves out some important nuances. Let’s explore what other researchers have to say about the differences between Homo sapiens and Neanderthals, and why the latter went extinct while the former survived.
Other research largely aligns with Bregman’s claims that Neanderthals were stronger than Homo sapiens. Archaeological evidence suggests that Neanderthals had a lower center of gravity and bigger muscles, especially in the arms, back, and chest, than Homo sapiens. However, while Neanderthals may have been more powerfully built, evidence suggests that humans were better at long-distance running.
In terms of intelligence, the story is more complicated. While scientists have found that Neanderthals had bigger brains than Homo sapiens, many note that Neanderthals weren’t necessarily more intelligent. Neanderthals’ brains were only slightly bigger than ours, but they were also longer. This likely means that their brains worked differently than ours because certain areas were larger or smaller. Because we can’t see an actual Neanderthal brain, it’s hard to know how the two species compared in terms of intelligence.
Lastly, let’s examine Bregman’s claim that the Neanderthals died out because humans were better at social learning, which allowed us to share technology and survive extreme swings in climate conditions. Scientists note that we still don’t know why Neanderthals went extinct. However, most theories align with Bregman’s emphasis on social connections and a changing climate. For example, one theory suggests that Homo sapiens had larger trading networks than Neanderthals, which allowed them to get food from other places in times of climate-induced famine.
Historical Evidence: Civilization Causes Suffering
As we’ve discussed, evidence suggests that our early foraging ancestors worked together and avoided war. However, Bregman argues that this peaceful coexistence between human tribes began to change about 15,000 years ago, when the last Ice Age ended. Tempted by the abundance of grain and other foods, humans began to settle down in villages, which eventually became cities and civilizations.
(Shortform note: Many researchers agree with Bregman that our ancestors settled down in villages because of an abundance of food. However, some historians have offered alternative explanations. For example, an archaeologist from Stanford University theorizes that foragers began to settle down not because of food, but because they valued spiritual and artistic communal practices. He claims that settlements brought people together, allowing them to create art and engage in spiritual rituals.)
Like Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Bregman maintains that humans’ transition from foraging to civilization created societies that were more violent, less equitable, and less healthy. Let’s take a closer look at the negative effects that began to arise when our ancestors made this transition.
Violence increased: According to Bregman, the invention of settlements and farming led to the invention of war. Before civilization, one of the reasons why foragers avoided war was that they had no land or possessions to fight over. However, as people settled down in one place, they began to accumulate personal property, which they passed down to their children. This led people to covet others’ property and want to protect their own, which in turn led cities to wage war over land and possessions.
(Shortform note: Because we don’t have a written record of any prehistoric wars, it’s hard to say whether Bregman is correct that the invention of private property led humans to wage war. However, more recent historical evidence supports this claim. The earliest recorded war occurred in 2700 BCE, between the Sumerians and the Elamites in what is now Iran. Records show that the Sumerians plundered the Elamites’ city and stole their weapons. This suggests that property was at least one factor in early warfare.)
Inequality increased: Bregman suggests that the transition to civilization also led to less equitable communities. He maintains that early foraging societies had no hierarchies. While a member of the group might lead in a time of crisis, he or she would relinquish power soon after or risk being ostracized.
(Shortform note: Most anthropologists and historians agree with Bregman’s claim that there were no hierarchies in early foraging groups. But why was this the case? One theory suggests that as we evolved, humans became so good at recognizing negative behaviors such as cheating and deception that it no longer made sense for one person to try to gain power. In other words, anyone who wanted power wouldn’t be able to outsmart the others in the group.)
However, Bregman explains that as humans started to settle down in one place, hierarchies began to form. Leaders came to power through prowess in war and were harder to topple because they had armies, prisons, and punishments to back them up. These new rulers began to demand taxes and labor to build infrastructure, leading to oppression and slavery.
(Shortform note: While Bregman is correct that leaders generally seized and kept power through force, implying that this societal shift was negative, other authors note that the hierarchies in early civilizations had benefits as well. For example, having a farming class allowed some citizens to not have to spend all of their time producing food. This allowed the middle and ruling classes to develop new advancements in art and technology, including more sophisticated pottery and sculptures, irrigation systems, and metal tools. Bregman would likely recognize that these benefits existed, but he might suggest that they applied to only a small percentage of the population.)
Health worsened: Bregman also argues that the transition to farming led to a decline in health. As foragers, we had a balanced diet, but in farming communities, we ate a homogenous and relatively innutritious diet of grains. Living together in close quarters with each other and with animals also allowed bacteria to thrive, exposing us to new diseases and increasing the risk of infection.
Early Foragers Had Healthier Diets Than Farmers
Archaeological evidence supports Bregman’s claim that farming led to a decline in health. Researchers have found that the skeletal remains of early farmers had more dental cavities and weaker bones than early foragers, and were more susceptible to disease.
Moreover, Bregman’s claim that foragers were healthier is part of a growing emphasis in our society on natural food. As more studies have emerged on farming’s negative impact on our health, the paleo diet has grown in popularity. In this diet, people only eat foods that our early foraging ancestors could have accessed. (Paleo is short for the Paleolithic age, which lasted from 2.5 million to 10,000 years ago.) These foods include fish, nuts, and fruits.
Modern Evidence: Evil Doesn’t Come Naturally to Us
As we’ve seen, Bregman claims that humans have evolved to be compassionate and cooperative. We survived by learning from each other and working together. We began to engage in war and violence not because it’s in our nature, but because the invention of settlements and civilization created more violent conditions.
However, all of the information that we’ve reviewed so far goes back thousands of years. What does more recent evidence tell us about our true nature? Bregman suggests that modern scientific evidence offers a similar conclusion: that humans are fundamentally good and want to do the right thing.
In this section, we’ll discuss two modern scenarios that many people assume to bring out the cruelest, most selfish impulses in human nature: the prisoner-guard relationship and war. Bregman argues that while these situations can be brutal, humanity’s fundamental goodness shows through in each of them.
Let’s discuss each of these scenarios in more detail.
Prisoners and Guards: Being a Guard Doesn’t Necessarily Lead to Cruelty
According to Bregman, proponents of Hobbes’s point of view—that humans are inherently selfish and cruel—often use the prisoner-guard relationship as proof that humans are naturally evil. This is largely due to a 1971 study known as the Stanford Prison Experiment.
Bregman describes the experiment: A team of psychologists led by Stanford professor Philip Zimbardo turned the basement of the Stanford psychology department into a “jail.” Zimbardo recruited 24 male college students, half of whom would play the role of guards and the other half the role of prisoners. After several days, the guards began to treat the prisoners with brutality—they subjected them to strip searches, emotionally and verbally tormented them, and even physically abused them.
Bregman notes that in interviews and articles after the experiment, Zimbardo repeatedly claimed that this cruel behavior was entirely unscripted. He said that merely telling participants to be a guard had brought out their sadistic tendencies—the evil that supposedly hides in all of us.
However, when Zimbardo released the archive of the experiment, it became clear that he’d influenced the guards’ actions. According to Bregman, Zimbardo met with the guards before the experiment began and told them to treat the prisoners with brutality. Due to Zimbardo’s interference, Bregman maintains that the experiment tells us very little about human nature.
However, Bregman notes that a similar study conducted more recently, without unethical interference from the researchers, had the opposite result of the Stanford prison experiment. This was a 2002 reality TV show on the BBC called The Experiment, run by psychologists Alexander Haslam and Steven Reicher. Like Zimbardo, Haslam and Reicher divided participants into guards and prisoners. However, they didn’t give the guards any directives. By the end of the series, the prisoners and guards were sharing their food and playing games together, and they’d voted to create a commune. Bregman concludes that being a guard doesn’t automatically bring out our evil nature.
Fact Check: Prisoner-Guard Conflict in The Experiment
Bregman is correct that in The Experiment, the prisoners and guards mostly got along and had created a commune by the end of the series. However, his portrayal is a slight oversimplification. The show did have some conflict, including a confrontation between prisoners and guards over the quality of the food. Moreover, at the end of the show, several participants advocated for a “military regime” instead of a commune, creating two factions. The researchers ended the study because the two sides couldn’t reach a compromise.
Still, in their account of the experiment, Haslam and Reicher noted that the guards didn’t deliberately administer any cruel punishments. Rather, the conflict that occurred was due more to the prisoners’ desire to humiliate and undermine the guards. This supports Bregman’s claim that being a guard doesn’t necessarily bring out the evil inside of us.
Ethical Critiques of the Stanford Prison Experiment
While Bregman describes the Stanford Prison Experiment in detail and touches on its apparent methodological flaws, other psychologists have gone into detail about an arguably bigger issue with the experiment: its severe ethical breaches.
The first ethical objection is the setup and premise of the experiment. Modern guidelines for psychology studies state that the researcher must be an expert in the subject of the experiment. Critics of the Stanford prison experiment point out that Zimbardo had no experience with prisons. This made him ill-suited to create a fake “jail” because he couldn’t foresee how the experiment would turn violent so quickly.
The second objection is to Zimbardo’s recruitment of the prisoners and guards. Zimbardo didn’t inform the participants how violent the experiment would get. In fact, he told the prisoners beforehand that they wouldn’t get hurt, which turned out to be a lie. Modern guidelines require psychologists to fully explain the setup and risks of the experiment before participants consent.
Lastly, and most importantly, psychologists criticize the emotional and physical violence of the study, including the strip searches and the physical abuse. To make matters worse, Zimbardo told prisoners that they couldn’t leave, even when the guards’ actions caused them considerable emotional trauma. Modern guidelines strictly forbid this type of violence.
However, despite the widespread criticism of the Stanford Prison Experiment, including Bregman’s book, Philip Zimbardo stands by his research. In his 2007 book The Lucifer Effect, he claims that the guards weren’t merely acting a part; rather, they began to enjoy violence. He notes that if they had just been acting, the guards would have been the most violent in the day, when the cameras were on and the researchers could see them. However, the guards were particularly brutal to the prisoners at night, subjecting them to searches and violence even when no one was watching. According to Zimbardo, this is evidence of the “lucifer effect”—humans’ inherent ability to become evil in certain circumstances.
War: Soldiers Don’t Enjoy Killing
Another scenario that people often hold up as an example of humans’ inherent cruelty is war. Bregman suggests that traditionally, we think that soldiers enjoy killing because it allows them to engage in the type of primal violence that humans have supposedly committed throughout history.
However, Bregman argues that most soldiers actively avoid killing, and that it takes considerable training to make soldiers kill. Evidence from around the world suggests that historically, few soldiers fired their weapons in times of war. These numbers have only increased in recent years due to the military’s increased emphasis on conditioning soldiers to kill through combat simulations and exposure to violent images.
Further Evidence: Do Soldiers Enjoy Killing?
Other historians largely agree with Bregman that most soldiers don’t naturally enjoy killing. In An Intimate History of Killing, historian Joanna Bourke argues that when they first join the military, soldiers have an inherent aversion to killing, which the military can overcome through conditioning.
However, Bourke and others also note that soldiers often experience a thrill or sense of exhilaration in combat. This was true even before the military began conditioning soldiers to kill in recent years: Letters and journals of soldiers from the two World Wars often describe killing with a sense of excitement. Still, other authors point out that the soldiers who wrote these accounts didn’t necessarily enjoy killing—writing about killing with relish could have helped soldiers process a deeply traumatic and unenjoyable experience.
Moreover, Bourke disagrees with Bregman’s claim that society generally believes that soldiers should enjoy killing. She suggests that the opposite is true: that we don’t want to believe or admit that soldiers sometimes take pleasure from violence.
Why Do We Commit Evil Actions?
While Bregman maintains that evil doesn’t come naturally to us, he also acknowledges that humans have done terrible things to each other. Soldiers may not enjoy killing, but many do it anyway. The guards in the Stanford Prison Experiment might have been following orders, but they still went along with Zimbardo’s instructions. Moreover, throughout history, humans have enslaved each other, fought brutal wars, and committed genocide.
So, if we’re not programmed for violence, then why have we done such terrible things? According to Bregman, we commit evil actions for several reasons:
Reason #1: We Look Out for Our Own Group
Bregman suggests that we commit evil due to our tendency to protect the people in our immediate circle at the cost of others. Biologically, this desire to look out for our own group is due to our high levels of the hormone oxytocin, which regulates love. In most cases, this is a positive thing: It allows us to learn from one another and develop relationships.
However, our high levels of oxytocin have a downside. According to Bregman, research suggests oxytocin only enhances connection to people who are familiar to us—people who we know or who look, talk, and act like us. Furthermore, oxytocin gives us an aversion towards strangers. This aversion can make us support the people in our group at the cost of others. It can lead us to villainize strangers and see them as less than human, making us more likely to commit violence against them.
(Shortform note: Scientific studies confirm Bregman’s claims that oxytocin increases trust of those who are in our group and decreases trust of those who aren’t. Furthermore, research shows that oxytocin has several other positive and negative effects that Bregman doesn’t mention. For example, in addition to helping develop trust, evidence suggests that oxytocin can improve social skills, and researchers theorize that a dose of oxytocin could help people with autism feel more comfortable in social situations. In terms of the negative effects, researchers have found that too much oxytocin can lead to increased stress and social anxiety.)
Fortunately, we can fight this aversion by getting to know people from other groups. Bregman explains that frequently interacting with a diverse group of people drastically decreases prejudice and hate. Having friends from different backgrounds helps us go beyond stereotypes and see those different from ourselves as fully human.
Scientific Evidence: How Much Does Friendship Reduce Prejudice?
Scientific evidence supports Bregman’s claim that developing friendships with people from other groups decreases prejudice. Studies show that the positive effects of friendship apply to various types of prejudice, including racial, ethnic, and religious prejudice.
However, there’s an important caveat to Bregman’s claim. Several studies have shown that while intergroup friendships do decrease prejudice, they have a more positive effect on members of the majority, dominant group. For example, one study studied friendships in German schools between German (majority) and Turkish (minority) children. It found that having a Turkish friend greatly increased German children’s perception of Turkish people. But having a German friend didn’t significantly change how Turkish children saw Germans. Research from other countries shows a similar trend.
Researchers theorize that members of minority groups benefit less from intergroup friendships because they approach these friendships with more caution. They might be more hesitant to open up due to previous experiences of prejudice at the hands of the majority group.
Reason #2: We Follow Harmful Impulses
According to Bregman, another reason why humans commit evil is our tendency to follow two harmful impulses: the desire to contribute to the greater good and the desire to conform. Let’s examine these two impulses in detail.
First, Bregman argues that we commit evil when we think it will lead to a greater good. This “greater good” can vary based on the situation: We might see cruelty as a necessary step in creating a better country or developing scientific knowledge.
(Shortform note: Bregman presents acting for the greater good as a negative. However, some schools of philosophy suggest that we should always act with the greater good in mind. For instance, utilitarianism suggests that the moral choice is that which creates pleasure for as many people as possible. According to utilitarians, considering the greater good helps us see the broader consequences of our actions, thereby making the world a better place. For example, using plastic water bottles may be more convenient for each individual, but when we take a step back, we realize that it isn’t good for the world as a whole.)
The second impulse that can lead us to commit evil is our desire to conform. As we discussed earlier, humans evolved to form groups and work together, making us crave companionship. Bregman explains that this desire for companionship can outweigh our moral sense of right and wrong. For example, a gang of bullies might follow their leader not because they’re inherently cruel people, but because they want to be part of a group that accepts them.
Bregman notes that these impulses don’t excuse evil behavior. Instead, he sees them as ways of understanding why we can be so cruel and selfish so that we can act more kindly in the future. Moreover, he believes that we can fight these impulses through practice. By developing skills such as compassion and resistance, we can stand up for what we believe in.
How to Develop Compassion and Resistance
While he emphasizes practicing compassion and resistance, Bregman doesn’t go into much detail on practical ways to develop these skills. Here are some ways of doing so:
Use meditation to practice compassion. Following “loving-kindness” meditation can help you extend the compassion you feel for your loved ones to the broader world. In this meditation, you think of a person who you care about and imagine the things that you love about them—for example, the way they smile, their gestures, or their kindness. You wish them happiness in your mind. Then, you think about someone who you don’t know as well—perhaps a stranger that held the door for you earlier in the day—and wish them happiness. Finally, you extend that feeling of compassion to all humans.
Band together to resist conformity. As Bregman notes, one of the reasons why we’re susceptible to evil is our impulse to go along with a group. However, you can also use this impulse to create change and fight negative behavior. For example, if you see someone being bullied, communicate with others around you and make a plan to intervene.
Seeing Humans as Fundamentally Good Can Create a Better World
In the previous two sections, we discussed Bregman’s argument that humans are inherently good, not evil. But why does it matter if we see humans as good or evil? In this section, we’ll discuss why Bregman believes having a more positive outlook on humanity can create positive change in our society.
Our View of Humanity Creates a Feedback Loop
Bregman argues that whichever view of humanity we choose—Hobbes or Rousseau, evil or good—creates a feedback loop. In other words, we get what we expect from people. Research suggests that expectations have a significant impact on behavior. For example, if a parent consistently tells their child that the child is unathletic, then the child will start to believe it. She might avoid playing sports with other children. If she does play, she’ll see every failure as proof that she’s unathletic, instead of as an opportunity to improve. She therefore enters a negative feedback loop.
According to Bregman, the same is true of how we see humans. If we expect people to be selfish, they’ll act selfishly. However, the opposite holds as well: If we see humans as fundamentally decent creatures, we’ll treat each other with respect, trust, and dignity, which will encourage others to be kinder and more compassionate in turn. By changing our mindsets, we can create a positive feedback loop that leads to a friendlier and more peaceful world.
The Dangers of Over-Optimism
While, as Bregman notes, positive expectations often lead to positive results, our expectations of those results must also be realistic. In Thinking, Fast and Slow, renowned psychologist Daniel Kahneman suggests that overly optimistic expectations prevent us from considering negative consequences of our actions or choices, which can lead to poor decision-making. This is also known as optimism bias.
The dangers of optimism bias can apply to how we see human nature. As we discuss above, Bregman believes that a more positive view of human nature can create a positive feedback loop. However, seeing all humans as friendly can be dangerous because it can lead us to be too trusting, which can cause us pain.
To avoid over-optimism, Kahneman suggests two general strategies. First, he recommends taking a more objective view: Imagine that you’re observing someone else in your situation, then set your expectations accordingly. Second, he says to plan backwards: Imagine what could go wrong, then address those potential difficulties. This will increase your chances of success because it lets you build a realistic roadmap towards your goal. These strategies can help you avoid over-optimism in your goal-setting as well as your relationships with other people.
There are also more specific strategies that can help you consciously decide whether to trust someone, rather than blindly seeing all humans positively as Bregman suggests. For example, talking to a close friend or family member about a relationship can help you get a more objective perspective on it, thus helping you to decide whether or not the other person deserves your trust. Furthermore, it can be helpful to define what trustworthiness means to you: For many people, trust requires consistency, respect for you and your time, and compassion and kindness.
Bregman maintains that, while it may sound idealistic, evidence from prisons, corporations, and politics shows that these positive feedback loops create better results in the real world. Let’s take a look at the possibilities of a positive mindset.
The Criminal Justice System
According to Bregman, one of the places where our society creates negative feedback loops is in prisons. He maintains that seeing prisoners from a Hobbesian perspective—as inherently evil criminals who require strong punishment—actually leads to more crime.
For example, in the United States, prisons are often punishment-based. Prisoners live in overcrowded cells with little to no time for exercise, and they receive punishments like solitary confinement when they break the rules. These strict rules make it harder for ex-convicts to adapt to life outside of prison, which isn’t as structured or punishment-based. Bregman suggests that this contributes to high reoffending rates in the United States.
(Shortform note: In addition to the difficult transition from prison to the outside world that Bregman alludes to, there are several important factors that make a person more likely to reoffend that he doesn’t mention. These factors include a lack of employment opportunities, a history of substance abuse, and a person’s age—younger first-time offenders are more likely to reoffend.)
However, Bregman argues that we can create positive feedback loops in the criminal justice system. In Norway, for example, prisons are reform-centered. Guards rarely carry weapons, and they treat prisoners with respect. In one prison, inmates live in a type of commune, plowing the land and growing their own food. Norway’s recidivism rate—the percentage of prisoners who end up in prison a second time—is significantly lower than that of the United States.
What’s more, Norway’s success isn’t uniquely Norwegian: This type of reform works in the United States as well. According to Bregman, United States prison officials have borrowed some of Norway’s methods. They’ve found that when guards have more conversations with prisoners, conditions begin to improve: There are fewer instances of disobedience and fewer fights, and the guards enjoy their jobs more.
Why Do Norwegian Prisons Work?
Bregman mentions several aspects of Norway’s prison system, including communal living and guards without weapons. In addition to these, there are several other practices that differentiate Norwegian prisons. For example, one prison assigns each inmate a guidance counselor, who monitors their progress and helps them develop a life plan. Prisoners also receive more privileges as they show good behavior, including overnight family visits, access to classes and job training, and limited time outside the prison (accompanied by guards). This creates a gradual progression into the outside world, mitigating the difficult transition that Bregman describes.
Moreover, in addition to reducing recidivism, Norway’s prison system benefits its inmates and the broader society. Prisoners say that the system helped them develop a greater sense of self-worth and achievement by teaching them new skills. When they enter society, the former prisoners use these skills to contribute to the economy.
As Bregman mentions, several places in the United States have borrowed ideas from Norwegian prisons with positive results, including the state of Oregon. However, despite this, some people doubt whether the United States can fully implement this reform-based system. Critics point out that the United States government doesn’t pay for as many social services as Norway. Norway’s model of high quality, state-funded prisons is therefore unlikely to gain popular political backing in the US.
Furthermore, others note that Norway has a better mental health system than the United States, including publicly-funded emergency responders trained in psychology. This is an important factor in rehabilitating prisoners, who often suffer from mental health disorders. According to these critics, simply reforming the prison system wouldn’t be enough to improve recidivism rates—the United States would also have to change the way it views mental health.
Corporations
According to Bregman, we can also create positive feedback loops in corporations. He suggests that when managers see and treat their workers as lazy and untrustworthy, workers are less intrinsically motivated and creative. For example, bonuses and pay-per-hour systems, which seek to hold “lazy” workers accountable, can make workers so focused on working a certain number of hours or getting paid more money that they no longer care about doing the job well. Instead, Bregman suggests that businesses should minimize bureaucracy and trust their employees to find creative solutions.
The Company Without Hierarchy: AgBiome
One example of a company that aligns with Bregman’s theory is AgBiome, a biotech company in the agriculture industry. The company doesn’t have managerial hierarchies. Instead, it lets its employees set their own schedules, determine the best strategies for solving problems, and create teams to tackle specific projects. Employees also form committees to handle finances and other logistical issues.
However, even though companies like AgBiome have been successful, Bregman’s unstructured management theory doesn’t necessarily work for everyone. James Baron, a business professor at Yale whose work inspired AgBiome’s founders, notes that AgBiome is in the science and technology industry, where quick decision-making and teamwork is especially important. Companies in industries that don’t value or require these attributes may not suit this management style.
Government
Bregman also extends his positive feedback loop theory to civic engagement. Studies show that when city governments give their citizens more power to negotiate and make political decisions, there’s more participation and interest in politics, less polarization, and less corruption. Inequality decreases because citizens of all social classes and groups have a seat at the table.
How to Get Involved in Government
Bregman notes the importance of citizen participation in government, but he doesn’t provide many concrete tips on how to get involved. Here are some ideas:
Participate locally. While local government is much smaller than national or state government, it can make a big difference in peoples’ lives. To get involved, attend local government discussions on issues in your community, get to know your local representatives, and join organizations such as school boards to create change.
Support candidates that you believe in. One of the most basic ways that citizens participate in democracies is by electing candidates. You can help elect a candidate that you believe in by voting, mobilizing others to vote, and volunteering as a campaign official.
Create a community of people who care. One of the ways that citizens create change is through banding together. Consider creating or attending a debate club in your community and talking to others about your beliefs. You can also use social media to raise awareness about issues that are important to you.