As a psychologist who sees a number of people with addiction issues, a phrase coined by author Max Lucado grabbed my attention. In his book,
In The Grip of Grace, he writes about "the habit of hatred:"
Call it a bad addiction. We start the habit innocently enough, indulging our hurts with
doses of anger. Not much, just a needle or two of rancor. The rush numbs
the hurt, so
we come back for more and up the dosage;
we despise not only what he did, but who
he is. Insult
him. Shame him. Ridicule him. The surge energizes.
Drugged on malice,
the roles are reversed; we aren't the victim, we're the victor. It feels good. . . .
The
progression is predictable. Hurt becomes hate, and
hate becomes rage as we become
junkies unable to make
it through the day without mainlining on bigotry
and bitterness.
No one likes to be the object of hurtful or humiliating acts. These hurts leave us feeling helpless. One common way to combat this vulnerability is to strike back, to get even so that we don't feel quite as helpless. However, the act of seeking vengeance actually leaves us with a "hangover," much like over indulging in alcohol. We may get a high from seeking vengeance, but later we feel curiously empty and even more helpless.
Thus, it takes more preoccupation with anger and spite to counteract the growing helplessness. This spiraling process of hate and helplessness has the effect of giving our tormentor even more power over us long after the tormentor has left the scene. We may proceed to look for groups of people to resent and other cultures to belittle in order to justify our hatefulness.
It also is often the case that people we come to hate are usually people we fear. This fear-driven hatred is at the heart of prejudice. Whether the prejudice takes the form of racism, sexism, homophobia or religious intolerance, the underlying fear is a fear of people who are different. Diversity in society is seen as dangerous because it threatens conformity, and conformity is assumed to be the higher Good.
Psychologist Betty Berzon has written that, in the fear-driven person, conformity is equated with morality. The good person is one who doesn't step out of the lines, who looks just like every one else in the group. Those who live in fear often assume that diversity signals the breakdown of moral order or "the way things are supposed to be." Thus, conformity is highly valued as a way to control the threat of change.
Overcoming the habit of hatred means overcoming fear. Of course, there are many real threats out there that we rightly should fear: random acts of violence, corporate greed, crimes against women and children to name several obvious ones. Overcoming the type of fear that fuels an addiction to hatred is largely the fear of our own humanity.
