Humankind: A Hopeful History

During World War II, the social scientist Morris Janowitz embarked on a quest to decode what motivated Nazi soldiers. Contrary to prevailing views that ideological fervor was the driving force, Janowitz found that a sense of camaraderie or Kameradschaft was a more potent motivator. Studies involving wiretaps and interviews with POWs lent weight to Janowitz’s argument, revealing that a sense of community, rather than ideology, played a crucial role in bonding soldiers.

However, this idea of community is not limited to warfare. In Yale’s Infant Cognition Center, also known as the “Baby Lab,” studies revealed that infants exhibit a rudimentary sense of morality from an early age, choosing “good” characters over “bad” ones in puppet shows. Yet this same study also exposed an inherent tribalism in human nature, as infants displayed a tendency to choose puppets like them, regardless of moral implications. This duality is further examined in the work of Felix Warneken, who found that toddlers display genuine helpfulness toward others, even as other studies indicate that children form innate group identities based on superficial differences like shirt color.

The chapter takes a darker turn in examining the findings of psychologist Paul Bloom, who cautions that empathy can be dangerously myopic. This issue emerged in an experiment featuring a fictional sick child named Sheri Summers. Participants were more likely to favor Sheri over others when prompted to empathize, showcasing how empathy can lead to morally dubious decisions. Bloom argues that empathy often narrows the focus to immediate emotional connections, rendering people less forgiving to those considered outsiders.

Bregman also explores the military’s use of empathy for contrasting purposes: from dehumanizing the enemy to fostering effective fighting units. Military training manipulates empathy to create emotionally detached warriors capable of extreme acts of violence yet bound by a sense of brotherhood to their comrades. The chapter makes use of various case studies, interviews, and research reports to fortify its arguments, leading to unsettling questions about the dual nature of empathy. Far from being an unadulterated virtue, empathy emerges as a complex force that can both unite and divide, enable compassion as well as foment violence.

Beginning with Niccolò Machiavelli’s timeless treatise The Prince, the chapter explores Machiavelli’s belief that achieving power requires a ruthless, unprincipled approach. This Machiavellian blueprint has an enduring influence, appearing as a thematic undertone in cultural landmarks such as The Godfather and Game of Thrones.

Contrary to Machiavelli’s conception, modern research spearheaded by Professor Dacher Keltner posits that power is more often achieved through “survival of the friendliest”—that is, those who exhibit empathy and kindness tend to ascend leadership hierarchies. However, Keltner’s studies reveal a dark caveat: Once in power, individuals display tendencies toward selfishness and disregard for others, a phenomenon he illustrates through the “Cookie Monster study” and other behavioral experiments. This “power paradox” is a central theme of the chapter, which posits that although power is gained through virtuous traits, it often corrupts those who come to hold it.

The book integrates biological perspectives by referencing primates like chimpanzees and bonobos, creatures that share 99% of their DNA with humans. The competitive, hierarchical nature of chimpanzee communities and the egalitarian structure of bonobo societies serve as biological allegories for human power dynamics. In contrast to Machiavellian ethos, Bregman implies that humans are innately more like bonobos, geared toward fairness and empathy.

Historically, human societies leaned toward bonobo-like traits, selecting leaders for their bravery, wisdom, and humility. However, as civilizations expanded, myths and narratives began to legitimize and maintain power structures. From the divine rights of kings to the myths of modern meritocracy, these narratives act as the glue that holds societies together. Simultaneously, though, these narratives perpetuate inequality and distort innate human tendencies.

Drawing upon anthropological evidence from tribes like the Aché and the Hadza, as well as archaeological finds like Göbekli Tepe, the chapter argues that human societies have always been large, complex networks held together by shared myths. While these myths were initially flexible, their rigidity increased as centralized power structures, such as armies, emerged. These power constructs also employed the latent threat of violence to maintain obedience, a principle still operating subtly even in contemporary democratic societies.

The chapter synthesizes these multifaceted arguments to expose a central tension: the very traits that elevate individuals to power positions are those most likely to be eroded once power is achieved. In part, this effect is due to the reinforcing effect of societal myths and the omnipresent threat of coercion. The chapter argues, in short, that while human nature may not be inherently corrupt, the systems and myths humans have erected around power certainly have a corruptive influence.

Bregman shows how Enlightenment philosophy has had an enduring impact on modern civilization. Bregman initially reinvokes the London Blitz to demonstrate how crises often bring out communal and altruistic impulses, rather than just the survivalist, selfish behaviors Enlightenment thinkers posited as inherent to human nature. The aim in this chapter is therefore to question the foundational ideas that have shaped societal structures, including governance and economics.

Bregman traces the dichotomous nature of humanity—both constructive and destructive—back to the shift from hunter-gatherer societies to settled civilizations. In the latter, hierarchies and property complicated the social fabric. These new civilizations were the arenas in which darker aspects of human nature often played out, manipulated by social constructs, scarcity, and power dynamics that foment division and violence.

To challenge Enlightenment doctrines, Bregman presents a nuanced thesis that counters the philosophies of Thomas Hobbes and Adam Smith. These two thinkers believe that rational systems of law, democracy, and capitalism can channel human self-interest into collective benefits. In contrast, Bregman argues that this perspective oversimplifies complex human motivations. Employing historical case studies, social psychology research, and philosophical inquiry, Bregman illustrates that Enlightenment thinkers may have led society astray by founding modern institutions on overly cynical assumptions about human nature. Such institutions, driven by a distorted view of humanity, often foster the exact behaviors they assume to be inherent—selfishness, greed, and divisiveness.

The chapter contends that the Enlightenment, with its belief in rationalism and logic, was laudable for its advances in health, wealth, and social harmony; however, it also yielded a darker legacy of racism, rampant capitalism, and misuse of power. Philosophers like David Hume and Adam Smith acknowledged the altruistic and empathetic aspects of humanity; nonetheless, they also built systems predicated on pessimistic views of human nature. As a result, a self-fulfilling cycle of cynicism has influenced modern policies, affecting economies and political landscapes globally.

Bregman concludes by opening the door to an essential question: Could new institutions, based on a more balanced understanding of human nature, create a better society? The chapter serves as a pivotal junction, beckoning the reader to imagine an alternative path where institutions are designed not to exploit humanity’s worst impulses, but to elevate its best.