Why do we hate the other?

This sermon was delivered on November 29, 2009 at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation (Blacksburg, VA), by the Reverend Christine Brownlie.

This sermon comes from a question that was submitted by a member of the Congregation for The Question Box sermon that was offered on November 15^th 2009. The question was worded as follows. “What is it in that causes us to hate “the other?” I interpret him to mean by “other” those whom we think are not like us. What can we do about that?)

This is a great question! It’s timely and complex. It asks us to open a huge Pandora’s box of troubling — even horrifying — human behavior that is found in the most ancient stories of our culture as well as in today’s newspaper. Answers to this question can be found in many fields of study from zoology to the latest discoveries of psychology, anthropology, sociology and neuroscience.

I’ll begin with the observation that we human beings, like many apes and other animals, are naturally tribal. Most of us prefer to live in situations that include connection and interactions with other people. Our family of origin may be our first tribe, but as we are exposed to the larger arena of life, we will seek out others who share our interests, our values and loyaltie nedit CB-091129.htmls, and create strong bonds with many of them. These new connections may become even more important than our ties to our biological family. For example, a soldier may be willing to risk her or his life to protect the safety of his or her country, even though this loyalty may have a negative impact on the soldier’s family.

From early childhood, we are engaged in a process called socialization. as we are taught the cultural and ethical norms of our tribe through stories, myths, and instruction. This is how we come to understand who we are, what the rules are, and to find our place within the tribe.¹ We also learn that people outside the tribe are a potential threat to our way of life and to ourselves. We fear that these “others” may try to take our land, our water, our wealth, or even members of our group. Including them in our group may corrupt our culture or damage our economy. I recall very well my parents' efforts to indoctrinate me with their racist attitudes toward African American people, as well as the extreme measures my father took to keep my sisters and me from attending an integrated high school in our community.

Is our tendency to create in-groups and out-groups also tied to our biology? Yes and No. Fear of outsiders — those who are different — might be an evolutionary trait, but I believe human beings have options about how we handle our fears. It’s also interesting to learn that the worst kinds of conflicts between groups are most common between people who are of different but related ethnicities but who live in the same region. From the Middle Ages through the 17^th century, ethnic identity was based on language and cultural practices, not physical traits. These groups are more likely to demonize one another because they are the greatest threat to maintaining the purity of the “in-group.” ²

So what is it that leads us to creating an “out-group” and then to see both the individuals as well as the whole group, as a danger to our own group? I’ve come across several ideas that I’d like to share with you.

The first has to do with our human love of story, and the power of both memory and imagination. Imagine how terribly dangerous it must have been for our early ancestors. Making it through the day was a daily challenge and anyone who survived to adulthood had probably endured attacks by animals and other humans. Survival of the fittest was the law, and women and children were at the bottom of the heap when it came to making it. By the time a young man or woman came to adulthood (if they were lucky enough to survive these dangers) they probably had a ready supply of horror stories to pass along as cautionary tales. Imagination allowed them to transfer these tales of terror from one situation to another. A violent encounter with one outsider would be likely to create a suspicion that any outsider could be a threat to the community.³ Add to this fear the very powerful idea that beliefs and ways of my tribe are superior to those of any other tribe, and suddenly that suspicious collection of people on the other side of the river — the freeway, or the globe — becomes the dangerous “other” that we fear and hate. We avoid them if we can. And if we can’t, then we must be ready to defend ourselves or even to strike the first blow.

That fear-based attitude might have made sense in the Bronze era, but it doesn’t serve us well now. Between the ease of travel and our exposure to far away lands and exotic cultures via TV and movies, you’d think that we’d be more sophisticated in our thinking. Despite the drumbeat of the religious fundamentalists, our society is becoming far more tolerant of homosexuality, and the number of people who are openly GLBTQ is growing. Yet hate crimes that involved attacks on non-Christians and non-heterosexuals are on the rise. We might pause to ask why this behavior continues despite the signs of growing tolerance.

One possible answer comes from the research of Steven Baum, who specializes in the field of genocide research. Based on his analysis of various studies that look at how subjects respond when put in a position when they are either permitted or encouraged to do something painful to another person, he claims that the capacity to engage in behaviors that are dangerous/painful to others is a clear indicator of the subject’s level of mental health.⁴

Using the ego development theory of Jane Loevinger and other adult developmentalists,⁵ Baum divides the population into three segments: those who are capable of harmful behaviors (whom he labels as perpetrators/extremists), those who would either not harm someone, or do only slight harm to protect themselves (or bystanders/ordinary people), and those who would protect or rescue (altruistic rescuers/helpers). He puts these categories on a bell curve that represents the mental health of the general population. What surprised me is his claim that only those who fall into the category of altruistic helpers are truly mentally healthy.

The first group (perpetrators) doesn’t meet the standard of mental health despite the fact that they function at a “normal” level in day-to-day life. But their over-all mental health is diminished because they harbor delusional beliefs that lead to hatred. Other researchers have identified other deficiencies in this first group. These include the tendency to oversimplify when processing information, an ineffective problem solving style, altered self-esteem, and a diminished regard for human experience and a rigid personality.⁶

The second group (bystanders) is also functions at a fairly high level in daily life, but still does not meet the criteria that define good mental health. These people demonstrate very little insight or self-awareness and only fair levels of emotional stability. They tend to be overly concerned with rules and duties and have difficulty making decisions in situations where the rules are ambiguous. ⁷

The third group, (rescuers) demonstrate the highest level of mental health. Baum describes this group as courageous, having a strong sense of their individuality, empathic, and most likely engage in empathic acts such as visiting people in the hospital, helping the poor, and assisting stray animals. Baum rightly points out that mental health is a continuum, and that anyone can increase his or her health. It also seems that under grave duress, one can also step back and do what may be very much out of character.

Within the shelter of our own “in-group,” we feel safe and secure because we all share a high degree of what Professor Isamu Nagami calls “taken-for-grantedness”.⁸ Again, these are the rules — spoken and unspoken — the point of view, expectations, and other shared information that can be found in every group of human beings from families to congregations to nations. Nagami says that when we are in such a group of people, we create a “sharing world.” This world is important to us, and we will go to great lengths to protect it.

When we have contact with people whose own “taken for-grantedness” is very different from our own, we tend to judge the other group as inferior to our own and their ways as inferior or immoral or evil. Just think about the people that you are most likely to dislike or label with negative words: fundamentalists, member of the opposing political party, people in rural counties. We all do it, even though this disregards our UU claim of the inherent worth and dignity of every person.

When the in group and the out group clash, those who have the power to do so may impose their norms and rules ways on the “inferior” or “dangerous” outsiders. Think of the attempts to make English the official language of our nation, or efforts by the French government to make it illegal for Muslim women to wear a burka in public. This demand that the “out group” adapt to our culture is a sign of fear; fear of losing what we value and what we see as integral to our personal or cultural identity. The most common response for many people is to push back and push hard as the Swiss have in a recent vote to amend their country’s constitution to ban minarets on mosques. Nagami offers a solution to the fear of the other that sounds simple, but which is in practice very difficult. He calls it “creating a horizon.” First, he says, we need to become aware of our own cultural history and the assumptions that have been handed to us by parents, teachers, and other figures of authority. Then we must do the same for the cultural history and assumptions of the “other” or the out-group. The intent is to become aware of the true nature of the “out-group," to see the virtues as well as the flaws of their culture. Another way to put this in "UU-speak," would be to know deeply "the inherent worth and dignity" of those whom we see as "the “other.”

Dialogue with the other is difficult for any number of reasons including the differences in history and language. But Nagami offers us hope. He says,

“We are living in a constant transformative process within the horizon of encounters between different people. If we are open and responsive to other people in dialogue, then Mystery can lead humans to learn to trust and find a way of reconciling the differences of culture and existence.”

He goes on to say,

“The genuine work of education, is to provide and teach this dialogical-critical ability to human beings so that we can create and develop meaningful societies in a global sense.”

It gives me hope that there are any number of groups that are working along these lines of dialog and creating understanding between peoples of different cultures. The Fellowship of Reconciliation, The American Friends Service Committee, our own Unitarian Universalist Service Committee, and the National Coalition Building Institute are examples of such groups — there many more!

It occurs to me that some of this work of creating an inclusive horizon might be worth examining for the health of our own Congregation. We have a number of constituencies within our Congregation, and sometimes we struggle with different perceptions and values. Each group with its own needs, history, assumptions, and “taken-for-grantedness.” There are times when members of these groups find themselves at odds because of their differences in outlook or sense of priorities. Sometimes our ideas or needs are expressed in words that can be troubling — or just plain clumsy! Assumptions flourish, feelings are hurt, and suddenly negative labels are applied to the offender. These labels begin to define the person and their actions, making it difficult to remember that the offender too is a person of inherent worth and dignity.

Many years ago, Universalist Minister Kenneth Patton asked a simple but powerful question:

“What more have we to give one another, than love and understanding?”

Imagine if we were to use this question as a guide for our relationships within our families, our circle of friends and colleagues, our neighborhoods, our congregation, and beyond! Surely our way of the spirit calls us to this work of compassion, acceptance, justice, and peace! May this be the gift that we give and receive as we look to the future with hope!

May it be so!