In an increasingly polarised world, dividing individuals into “us v them” and “allies and enemies” has become a pervasive mindset.
We arrange ourselves as “for” or “against”, whether it be political parties, vaccinations, climate change or the voice to parliament. We align ourselves with different sides of various wars. The negative effect of this on society is frequently noted. However, the more subtle and harmful effects on our mental health are often overlooked.
There are some obvious advantages to in-group formation. From an evolutionary standpoint, it allows for both the protection and sharing of the group’s resources. It fosters a sense of belonging and connection that promotes social cohesion and mental wellbeing.
It is natural for the human mind to categorise and take mental shortcuts. Research highlights the cognitive benefits of this simplification, but it also warns of the costs – specifically the loss of complexity and nuance. The loss of our ability to think beyond yes or no, in or out, is the loss of a vital human capacity.
The effects of this loss are particularly stark when the out-group is seen not only as different, or perhaps misguided, but also as indiscriminately threatening and hostile. At this point the cost to both the individual and society escalates and political, moral, ethical and material issues become urgent to address. However, there are also crucial psychological problems at stake. Whatever the causes of the original divide into enemies and allies, these divisions have hidden insidious mental health effects, as illustrated in the case of Meera.
Meera came for therapy because she was experiencing anxiety and panic attacks. These seemed to escalate whenever there was the possibility that her husband Esai’s family would come from India to visit. Meera and Esai had met each other while studying abroad and had married against the wishes of Meera’s Hindu parents and Esai’s Christian parents. Esai’s parents had been caught up in the anti-Christian incidents that assailed India after 1998. Meera was aware of these incidents but had not been personally touched by them. She acknowledged her in-laws’ trauma but felt that they were projecting on to her their generalised resentment. Meera increasingly dreaded any interaction with her in-laws. Her belief that they saw her as the enemy legitimised her construing them as the enemy.
In working with Meera, I was acutely aware of how many of us are embedded in trauma-drenched family and social histories and the enduring effects of these. When talking about her in-laws, Meera became visibly upset. Even while in the safety of my room she entered the fight-or-flight emergency state that a significant threat produces in us.
While I had no doubt that there was a reality base to Meera’s perceptions of her in-laws, it did not seem to me that the destruction of the marriage was at stake. However, in the fight-or-flight state that ensued when she contemplated their arrival, all the negatives pertaining to them were amplified and her sense of threat felt justified. Despite all the reassurances that Esai offered, Meera could only perceive her in-laws as being hellbent on the destruction of their marriage and the denigration of herself. This was despite their attempts to mend fences by offering to pay for an anniversary celebration and their financial contribution to the home Esai and Meera had recently bought.
This amplification of negative perceptions of the “enemy” when in a fearful threat state not only interferes with more balanced perceptions; it amplifies negative emotions too. As Cora Smith notes, more realistic judgments fly out of the window of the mind and negative emotions come in the door of the heart. Anger, bitterness, hostility and the desire for revenge banish the positive emotions of empathy, compassion and kindness. This banishment has a psychic cost as most of us do not live easily with these negative emotions. We experience guilt and shame which can once again be covered over with anger, as was the case with Meera.
While the source of Meera’s anxiety was certainly fuelled by the real rejection she had experienced at the outset of her relationship with Esai, it was maintained by her more paranoid thoughts and the conflicted self-image that arose from her own hostile feelings. Her perception of her in-laws as a threat was intense, as was her struggle with her own “ugly” emotions.
The therapy process with Meera was multifaceted. Her significant anxiety disorder involved working at the physiological level with mindfulness and meditation. It also required work at the interpersonal level with Esai to gain his reassurance that the marriage could not be damaged by his parents. A trauma informed approach was taken to address the intergenerational and historical issues, and both insight oriented and cognitive approaches were used to challenge the damaging and self-reinforcing effects of us and them thinking. Gaining insight into the link between this mindset and her anguish and distress proved critical in ameliorating Meera’s anxiety and restoring a degree of family harmony.
Over time Meera slowly gained perspective and the ability to see two sides of the story. This provided considerable relief to Meera in regard to her generalised anxiety and difficult emotions, as well as her dread about family visits which fortunately receded to the benefit of all.
*Meera is a fictitious amalgam to exemplify many similar cases that we see. The therapist is a fictional amalgam of both authors
Prof Gill Straker and Dr Jacqui Winship are co-authors of The Talking Cure. Gill also appears on the podcast Three Associating in which relational psychotherapists explore their blind spots
