The Source of All Our Fears

RobinB Creative
ART + marketing
Published in
13 min readNov 15, 2018
Image Credit (used under Creative Commons Licensing)

Us or Them?

I’m sure you’ve heard of transference. Most of us know of transference in the context of psychological counselling. You know — the patient develops feelings for their shrink. While we may think it’s just a joke, it is so iconically real that it’s become a persistent plot point in many books, movies, and TV series.

What we are less aware of though, is that falling in love with one’s shrink is actually the least common form of transference. In real life, transference is not just an anomalous behaviour expressed by a tiny subset of people who happen to see a psychologist.

The fact of the matter is that transference is something we all do … and we do it a lot.

The most common form of transference is seeing one’s self in others — for good or bad.

Sometimes we transfer our “goodness” onto someone who is not really “good” — at least not in that way. This is the basis for many bad/failed relationships. We assume the best of the other person/people, until the falsehood eventually becomes undeniable. Even then, we’re often amazed at how “they changed”, rather than being conscious of the now-broken transference.

Sometimes, we project our less favourable attributes onto someone else. After all, it’s easier to call someone else selfish, lazy, or cruel than it is to admit that I am any of those things. Why use blame at all if we’re just going to use it on ourselves? We often experience this when someone accuses us (against the regular grain of opinion) of being unfriendly, stingy, angry, (maybe even) racist, evil, heretical, etc.

Transference is something that happens to all of us, and that all of us do to others. The less conscious we are of our own emotional, spiritual, and psychological depths, the more we will transfer ourselves onto others.

The biggest part of realising, controlling, and limiting transference in our lives, is the development of empathy.

Empathy and Transference

Empathy is the ability to : -

  1. perceive others as being totally separate from, and other than ourselves.
  2. perceive other people’s emotions, struggles, joys, etc. as equally valid and valuable as our own.
  3. act positively in accordance with these realisations, relating to others as fully human — just as we are — in terms of both benefits and responsibilities of full humanity.

Transference is what happens when empathy does not happen. While that is a simplified statement, it is also a true statement. Transference is not the only thing produced by a lack of empathy, nor is a lack of empathy the only reason for transference.

That said, it is the root of the issue. Transference is what happens when empathy does not happen.

The less empathic we are — as people, as society, or as any sub-set of society — the more we will be “guilty” of transference. Let me explain.

Transference is crediting someone else (or a group) with my own (often) unacknowledged, or even denied feelings, history, actions, and/or fears.

Transference is therefore the patient with romantic feelings for their shrink, but also the person who can’t see that their boy/girlfriend is an ass-hole.

Transference is thus also the abuser blaming the abused for his rage, or the father assuming his child is a liar because he is.

Transference is taking offence at the way something is said because we would have meant it to be insulting.

Most people begin to develop empathy at around two-years of age. Before that, we are developmentally incapable of processing the concept of anyone else as completely “other”. Before this developmental stage is reached, empathy is impossible.

Prior to this, even if we have some limited concept that Mom and Dad are not us, we are incapable of even imagining that their difference extends beyond their separate physical forms.

At around two, we start picking up that other people’s emotions can be different to our own. We begin to notice that Mom can be sad when we’re happy, etc. We may even begin offering sympathy or comfort. However, even then, we offer what is is known as “egotistical sympathy”. In other words, we offer the comfort that we value, rather than the comfort that the other person might value. At this age, such behaviour is not wrong — it is simply all that is possible at this developmental stage.

Most of us continue to develop empathy as we age and evolve. For most of us, this means we become better people, and that we treat other people better — mostly.

As our empathy grows and evolves, we learn that the Golden Rule — treat others as you want to be treated — extends beyond literally treating others according to our own preferences.

In other words, I realise I shouldn’t force ice cream on someone who says they don’t want any. No matter how much I love ice cream, the other person’s preference, whether permanent or temporary, may be different to my own. Yes, that is a simplistic example, but I want to make it clear. How many men force sex on unwilling women because they cannot see beyond, “I want sex, therefore you want sex”. Hhhhmmm … suddenly not so simplistic or unrealistic after all, is it? Unfortunately, neither is it uncommon, in sexual, or other contexts.

We don’t need to study the world around us very deeply to notice that empathy is, even at best, a very flawed and far too uncommon practise.

In real life, empathy often seems to be “broken” by even the slightest physical, social, economic, geographical, cultural, or religious difference. Far too many people would rather blame someone else, than admit to a perceived “wrong” within themselves. We seem far to eager to demonise differences.

The #MeToo movement is just beginning to make some of us aware of the massive lack of male empathy toward women. World politics is also clearly showing us what happens when those in power lack empathy.

The frighteningly, all-too rapid, global increase in far-right, fascist sentiment and political power is demonstrative of a wilful lack of empathy on a grand scale.

White South Africans (and yes, I am one) squealing about reverse-racism (like that’s even a thing) and “white genocide”, indicates a severe lack of empathy. (black South Africans have lived with far worse for centuries, and generally still do)

Winding up your car window, and/or pulling forward at a stop light when approached by a beggar or curbside entrepreneur, displays a blatant lack of empathy. (A behaviour I’ve worked hard to change, with delightful results)

Most of us will want to deny it, but we do treat people differently according to how we perceive them. If someone is dirty and smelly, it can be tough to empathise with them, especially if we think they’re also drunk or high. If they are also obviously of a different race, nationality, or religion, our feelings, attitude, and actions scream our lack of empathy.

What happened to, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”?

Let me be clear. Lack of empathy clearly indicates a lack of perceived, shared humanity.

The extent to which I fail to act empathetically toward anyone, is an accurate reflection of the extent to which I fail to acknowledge their full, shared humanity.

If I can’t, don’t, or won’t identify with your desires, needs, and/or problems then I don’t consider you to be fully human — at least not in same way that I consider myself to be human. (this has nothing to do with my in/ability to practically assist)

Psychologically speaking, empathy is directly related to egotism.

The more egotistical I am, the less empathy I feel or display. This continues all the way up the narcissism spectrum (simplified — healthy self-interest, egotist, narcissist, sociopath, psychopath) until we reach a complete, psychopathic incapacity for perceived or displayed empathy.

In other words, as someone with healthy self-interest, I may put my needs above those of others for reasons of logistical practicality. However, on some level I probably still wish that I could help them, because I identify with them.

That common behaviour is the lowest end of the spectrum, and is considered psychologically and sociologically healthy. Importantly, our feelings of regret, or even guilt if we over-indulge ourselves in this kind of behaviour, are a sign of psychological & sociological health and normalcy.

On the other end of the spectrum is the psychopath. As a psychopath, I cannot even conceive of considering you or your humanity. While I intellectually perceive you as “other”, I have no concept of shared human equality or value. Therefore, as a psychopath, I am completely lacking in any form of empathy. There is no guilt, no concept of interpersonal morality. On my value scale, there is only me and what I want.

All of us — as “normal” people — are occasionally egotistical, and therefore, occasionally feel shame or guilt. So, what do we do with this empathic dissonance? How do we live with ourselves?

Psychologically, most of our egos fall into the normal range. However, our (Western) society, as a whole, has, on more than one occasion, been labelled as clearly psychotic (insane).

A sane person to an insane society must appear insane.
— Kurt Vonnegut, Welcome to the Monkey House

How do we, as “normally empathetic” people, live in an increasingly sociopathic society? How do we cope when “normal” is no longer truly normal? I’ll tell you what we have done. We work hard to convince ourselves that our abnormal society is normal. Then we can look around and tell ourselves that we’re not really so bad after all.

Love people, not things; use things, not people.

— Spencer W. Kimball

Our Western, consumer society constantly pushes us to love money, stuff, and the acquisition of stuff more than people. The adverts don’t generally say that flat out, but it’s true none-the-less. The lack of empathy is hidden just enough that we don’t have to look at it most of the time.

Most of us don’t care how we get our stuff, as long as we do. We unempathically turn a “blind eye” to ridiculously underpaid, often under-age foreign workers, forced to work in unsafe conditions. We can live with that, as long as we can “get a good deal” on our sports gear, our designer clothes, or our smartphones.

Every day, we, as apparently “normal” people, force ourselves to deal with this empathic dissonance. Every day, we choose novelty, convenience, and comfort over empathy. Every day, we choose to make our stuff, our comfort, our lifestyles, more important than someone else’s humanity.

How do we do that? It is both process and result — both cause and effect.

We cannot live the way we do without dehumanising the “other”.

If empathy is the active recognition of common humanity, then our social behaviour is inarguably the dehumanisation of the “other”. The more we dehumanise the “other”, the easier it gets. After all, it’s much easier to dehumanise someone we already think of as “not fully human”. (even if we’d never admit that consciously) And, if we can apply “out of sight, out of mind”, it makes it even easier. So, we’re happy to accept that our goods are made on the other side of the world, because then it’s not our problem. Out of sight, out of mind.

So, how do we, as otherwise psychologically normal people, with the capacity for empathy manage/decide to treat people in such a shocking fashion?

It is frighteningly simple.

We don’t even have to look very far for horrors of which to accuse the “other”. We need only look as far as ourselves — our own insecurities, weaknesses, evils, and fears.

Most of us — either individually or as a society— have not dealt with, or even acknowledged what Carl Jung calls our “shadow self”. Most of us are in deep denial of the darkness that exists within us. Few of us are willing to admit our perceived failings — even to ourselves.

We paper over the gaping cracks in our histories — both personal and corporate. We forcefully protest that our success is “self-made”. We distance ourselves from the “sins of our fathers” by assiduously ignoring historical (distant & recent) indigenous massacres, theft, tax-evasion, colonialism, slavery, Apartheid, or the economic imperialism on which our current comfort is built.

We are in deep denial, but at base, most of us are not psychopathic, or even sociopathic — not yet.

If we were psychopaths, we’d feel no dissonance — we’d feel no guilt.

If we were psychopaths, denial would not be necessary.

No, we’re not yet psychopathic. But … We move closer every day — especially as a society,

Every day, we continue, in practical, demonstrable ways, to deny the humanity of those we choose to perceive as “other” — refugees, the poor, those with different cultures, religions, sexual preferences, genders, skin-colours, and/or politics. The list is endless, because that suits our purpose.

Every day, we allow ourselves to be persuaded that it is the poor who threaten our tenuous, middle-class affluence. Every day, we support initiatives to remove or hide the poor, because … out of sight, out of mind. Every day, we choose to believe that people fleeing danger, are somehow a danger to us. Every day, we somehow convince ourselves that the abused are, in fact, the abusers. Every day, we allow ourselves to be convinced that someone else’s beliefs are a threat to our own.

Every day we experience psychologically healthy fear of our undealt-with shadow-selves. Every day, we unhealthily transfer that fear onto those we perceive as “other”.

The ultimate irony.

Most of us think that the problem is how different those “others” are to “us”. Most of us think that “they” are a problem because “they” are different to “us”.

Actually, nothing could be further from the truth.

Transference is the direct result of perceived similarity, not difference.

Transference only occurs when we recognise (even unconsciously)something of ourselves (positive or negative) in someone else.

In therapy, we think we fall in love with the therapist, but really we’re actually beginning to love ourselves. In life, we demonise the “other” because we suspect that they are just like us. Transference is always a result of perceived commonality, not difference.

We recognise that “they” are actually just like us. Therefore, we fear that they will do to us what we (or our ancestors) are doing (or did) to those we displaced. We transfer our own evils — current, historical, personal, & societal — to those we choose to call “other”, so that we can avoid facing ourselves and our own evil.

Many white (mainly conservative) Americans are afraid of undocumented immigrants. Could this be because they know what their ancestors (undocumented immigrants themselves) did to the indigenous people of America? Of course it is. They see their own “evil” in the “other”. Hence, “migrant caravans” rather than refugees fleeing atrocities.
(This is also true for other countries that abused — and may still abuse — their indigenous people. e.g. Australia)

Many British citizens are afraid of European imperialism. Why? Because the British know all about imperialist colonisation. The Brits spent centuries as the masters of imperialist colonisation. Britain (in general) is afraid of European colonisation because they never acknowledged, apologised for, or dealt with the evils of their own imperialism. They cannot look at a powerful Europe without fear of becoming a colony. Hence, Brexit.

Many white South Africans (not letting myself off the hook) are afraid of black South Africans. Why? Because, for centuries, white South Africans treated black South Africans as something less than fully human. (many continue to do so) In fact, during the decades of Apartheid, white South Africans denied that black South Africans were even South African.

Now South Africa has a black majority government and many white South Africans are afraid. Their fear stems from transference. Their fear stems from concern that black South Africans are actually just like us “Whiteys”, and will treat us as badly as we treated them.

We fear the reflection (real or imagined) of the worst, undealt-with parts of ourselves in those around us. We transfer the fear of our own, generally unacknowledged evils to other people.

How could your or my greatest fears be only figments of our unhealthy psyches?

How could your or my greatest fears be merely the result of our own psychological laziness?

Surely, that’s just nonsense.

Unfortunately, it’s not.

If you or I did not significantly identify with “those people”, transference would be impossible.

If you or I did not transfer the worst of ourselves onto “those people”, we would not fear them.

It’s as simple as that.

In Conclusion

So, what are you, or I supposed to do with all that?

Here are a few ideas :

  1. Consciously increase your recognition of shared humanity. Here’s the problem. Too often, we don’t consciously realise that we are all equally human — all equally valuable, and all equally wonderful and flawed. The problem begins with any denial of this basic truth.
  2. Consciously acknowledge and work to deal with your own faults. We cannot “overcome” our inner darkness — our shadow-self — by means of denial, fighting, or suppression. We can only integrate our shadow into our “light” through acknowledgement, love, and hard work. Carl Jung speaks of embracing one’s shadow in order to reach individuation.
  3. Whenever you find yourself blaming anyone for anything — STOP! Yes, other people do things that are wrong, and their actions may not only be a reflection of my shadows. However, even when a genuine wrong is committed, blaming is an incontrovertible sign that the external behaviour has struck an internal nerve. Look for the crack in your own armour that allowed the wound, rather than placing blame. Blame is never constructive.
  4. Focus on commonalities, not differences. No matter how different our cultures, religion, appearance, or anything else — we are always more similar than we are different.
    We all want a safe, comfortable, happy life. We all want the best for our family and friends. We all want to be able to freely express our humanity and creativity. We all want to be acknowledged and loved.
    Every time you catch yourself focusing on someone else’s difference, STOP! How are you similar?
  5. No matter what — LOVE! Even if you are currently unable to see the good, or the similarity in someone — love them.
    Love is sometimes action inspired by feeling.
    But, more often, and more importantly, love is action that inspires feeling.

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