Why We Punch Down on Our Own
The Self-Sabotage Loop
Dear Curious Minds,
I’m heading off to a warmer climate for a week. Like an annoying, spoilt brat, I’m struggling to feel excited about this holiday. I’ve spent the last two weeks playing a lot of mental scenarios of having to cancel this trip in case grandpa’s condition took a downward turn. So even when he’s all better and safely back home, my brain is struggling to realise it can stock up on joy. Might be a differnet story a in a few hours after the flight. Thank you for being here, I appreciate you.
Why do some people hate their own kind? Or, perhaps more uncomfortably, have you felt the urge yourself? I’m not talking about simple self-doubt, but a deeper, often subconscious pattern where individuals, or even entire groups, turn against their own cultural or collective good. It can look like this: women arguing against gender pay equity, Māori dismissing kaupapa Māori initiatives, or long-term Pākehā residents complaining about new migrants, forgetting their own family's journey to these shores.
This isn't about blaming individuals. That’s the whole point. It’s about understanding the subtle, insidious behavioural currents that pull us away from collective strength, almost always to our own detriment. As someone who arrived in Aotearoa as a child from Seoul, and now navigates the beautiful messy knot of Korean diaspora and New Zealand life, I’ve observed these dynamics up close. They’re fascinating, frustrating, and unmistakeably deeply human. In fact, we've explored different facets of this societal entanglement here before: from why minorities sometimes buy into colonial structures to the paradox of why good people keep losing, and how status games play out in unexpected ways. This piece is another thread in that ongoing conversation.
The Invisible Hand of Internalised Bias: What's Really Going On?
So, why do we sometimes bite the hand that feeds us, or at least, should be feeding all of us? I habitually gravitate towards behavioural science research, which offers some compelling insights on this:
Ingroup Favouritism and Outgroup Derogation (with a Twist): We're wired to favour our "ingroup". But what happens when the dominant societal narrative subtly (or not so subtly) positions aspects of our own ingroup as less desirable, or even problematic? We internalise it. We start seeing our shared cultural traits, our collective struggles, or even our very identities through a skewed lens. For some women, advocating for gender equity might feel like aligning with a "radical" or "complaining" outgroup, rather than a powerful ingroup. For some Māori, embracing te reo or tikanga might feel like 'rocking the waka' in a Pākehā-dominant space, leading to a distancing from their own cultural base for perceived acceptance.
Scarcity Mindset and Competition: When resources, whether social status, economic opportunity, or even a sense of belonging, are perceived as scarce, we become fiercely competitive. This isn't just competition between groups, but within them. If a few "spots" are open at the top, or if success is framed as an individual climb, it can lead to a crabs-in-a-bucket mentality. We see fellow members of our group not as allies, but as rivals for limited crumbs. I am constantly enraged whenever I see this play out when established migrant communities resist newer waves by kicking the ladder, fearing competition for jobs or resources, echoing "I got mine, you get yours the hard way." It’s excruciating to see this division when better scaffolding should be built instead.
System Justification/Just World Theory: This one really hurts. Essentially, we have a psychological need to believe that the existing social order is fair, legitimate, and desirable, even when it disadvantages us. Challenging the system creates cognitive dissonance, and it’s often easier to justify the status quo than to confront uncomfortable truths or work for transformative change. So, if the system says women are paid less because of "choice" or Māori face disparities due to "individual failings," internalising that narrative provides a perverse comfort, even if it hurts the collective. This is the quiet grief of watching systems fail again and again, sometimes with our tacit complicity.
The Peril of the 'Idiot': When Individualism Blinds Us
This brings us to a crucial, often overlooked point: the dangers of extreme individualism. When we focus solely on our own perceived advantage within a flawed system, we isolate ourselves. We forget that our rights, our dignity, and our opportunities are deeply entwined with the collective.
The ancient Greeks had a word for a private person, someone concerned only with their own affairs and detached from the wider community: idiotes (ἰδιώτης).
This wasn't a compliment. An idiotes was someone self-absorbed, uninterested in public life, ultimately useless to the polis, to the collective. In essence, someone whose pursuit of individual "rights" or comfort utterly ignored their civic duties and the shared well-being that underpinned those very rights.
When you care about your own rights only, without recognising their interdependence with the rights of others, it doesn’t take long for those very rights to be dishevelled, diminished, and eventually revoked. Because who will stand with you when the tide turns? If the only solidarity you have is with power, that solidarity is transactional and fleeting.
The Power of Our Words: Bias vs. Racism
This deep dive into how our minds (and systems) operate brings us to a critical question that's been nagging at me, and perhaps at you too: are we using the right words to describe what's going on? Specifically, is "bias" an overly sanitised term for "racism"? I am starting to see the popular notion of "we're all biased" become a convenient cop-out, derailing the urgent need for action.
From a behavioural science perspective, 'bias' is a broad cognitive shortcut. It defines an unconscious preference or inclination that can affect our judgments. Yes, we all have these biases; they're inherent to how our brains process information. Think of it as the brain’s auto-correct feature, sometimes helpful, sometimes leading to subtle errors.
Racism, however, is a much more comprehensive and potent term. It's not just an individual attitude or a cognitive glitch. Racism is a system of prejudice, discrimination, and power that operates on individual, institutional, and systemic levels to create and maintain racial hierarchy. It leads to measurable disadvantages for certain racial groups in areas like housing, employment, healthcare, and justice.
Here's why this distinction matters:
The Sanitisation Risk: When we exclusively use "bias" to describe racial injustice, we risk depoliticising the issue. It can make a deep, systemic problem sound like a mere individual oversight, implying that if we just attend a one day corporate unconscious bias workshop to "fix our biases," everything will be sorted. This conveniently sidesteps the uncomfortable truths of power imbalances, historical injustice, and ongoing structural discrimination.
The "Cop-Out" Trap: The refrain "we're all biased" (while true on a purely cognitive level) can become an excuse to avoid accountability for harmful outcomes. It shifts the focus from the impact of discriminatory actions and systems to the intent behind them, or even to a general human fallibility that seems beyond reproach. But the impact of racism is never neutral.
Obscuring Power: Crucially, using "bias" alone obscures the role of power. Racism is inherently tied to who holds societal power and how that power is used to maintain privilege and oppression. Someone from a marginalised group can hold biases, but they typically lack the systemic power to enact racism against a dominant group.
In a settler-colonial community like Aotearoa, understanding this distinction is vital. When we discuss disparities for Māori, for Pasifika, or for Asian communities, are we talking about mere unconscious biases, or are we confronting the legacy and ongoing reality of systemic racism that needs urgent, structural change? Precise language forces us to acknowledge the scale and nature of the problem we're trying to solve.
So, while understanding how cognitive biases operate is a valuable tool for self-awareness, I want us to be vigilant. Let's not allow "bias" to become a word that sanitises, dilutes, or derails the critical need to confront and dismantle racism where it exists. The words we choose shape our reality and define the solutions we are willing to fight for.
Reweaving the Fabric: From Isolation to Entanglement
So, how do we untangle these knots of internalised bias and self-sabotage? How do we move from being an idiotes to an active, engaged citizen of our multiple communities, whether that’s our gender, our cultural group, or simply our shared humanity in Aotearoa?
Conscious Awareness: The first step is simply noticing these patterns. Are we buying into narratives that subtly diminish our own? Are we competing where we should be collaborating?
Empathy as Practice: This isn't just a feeling; it's a ritual. Practising nunchi (눈치, the Korean art of subtle emotional awareness) and Aroha (active Māori compassion) can help us attune to the experiences of others, particularly within our own groups. What if we committed to a whakawhanaungatanga in our community groups, sharing "why I care" about the collective good?
Collective Action over Individual Meritocracy: Recognise that true progress often comes from collective uplift (Pumasi 품앗이) rather than individual striving. When women advocate for all women, when Māori champion rangatiratanga for all Māori, the tide truly begins to turn for everyone. This counters the extractive hustle culture and builds genuine psychological safety.
Curiosity as a Tool for Decolonisation: Our superpower, remember? Instead of dismissing differing viewpoints within our groups, what if we approached them with genuine Hogisim (호기심, active curiosity) and an Ako (reciprocal learning ethos)? What underlying assumptions are at play? What fears? This allows for respectful dissent and helps unravel historical narratives that might be contributing to internalised bias.
Cognitive Flags for Collective Wellbeing
Beyond understanding the 'why', what are the pragmatic, evidence-based self-checks we can use to ensure we're not inadvertently digging ourselves into an individualistic hole? These are 'cognitive flags' to signal when you might be acting against your broader, long-term best interests:
The "Zero-Sum" Trap Flag: Am I viewing this situation as a competition where someone else's gain must be my loss?
Behind the Flag: Behavioural science consistently shows that framing interactions as zero-sum games reduces cooperation and fosters turfism. In reality, many situations are "positive sum," where collaboration can create more value for everyone. Actively seeking common ground or an "expanded pie" can transform outcomes.
The "Solo Hero" Flag: Am I expecting to achieve this alone, or feeling resentful if I need to rely on others, especially those in my own group?
Behind the Flag: While individual drive is powerful, hyperindividualism overlooks the profound impact of social support and shared effort. Our brains are wired for connection. Cultivating a sense of Goal Interdependence, where individual success relies on collective effort, often leads to better, more sustainable results and stronger communities.
The "Fair Process" Flag: Am I advocating only for my desired outcome, or am I also prioritising a transparent and equitable process for all involved?
Behind the Flag: Procedural Justice is a robust predictor of trust and cooperation. People are far more likely to accept outcomes, even unfavourable ones, if they perceive the process leading to them as fair and unbiased. Insisting on fair process, like the Sociocracy 3.0 consent decisions that surface objections or the
kōtuitui consensus you champion, is a powerful antidote to cynicism and disengagement.
The "Mirror" Flag (Social Norms): What behaviour am I modelling? If everyone acted like me in this moment, would it lead to more cohesion or more fragmentation?
Behind the Flag: We are deeply influenced by Social Norms. Our actions, even small ones, contribute to the perceived "normal" way of doing things. Being the first to offer help, speak up respectfully, or bridge a divide can shift group dynamics. Your framework’s emphasis on "Reflect & Account" and transparent practices are brilliant examples of consciously shaping positive norms.
The "Bigger We" Flag: When I feel conflict with another individual or sub-group, can I find a larger, shared identity or purpose that encompasses both of us?
Behind the Flag: The Common Ingroup Identity Model suggests that by reframing "us vs. them" to a more inclusive "we," intergroup conflict can be reduced. For instance, moving beyond individual company loyalties to a shared industry goal for sustainability, or beyond specific cultural differences to the overarching identity of "Kiwis" or "Aotearoa residents" working for a better future.
This isn't just about 'being nice.' This is about survival, about building resilient communities where everyone’s mana is honoured, and where our collective strength is our greatest asset. It’s about ensuring that the safety net you expect to catch you is robust, woven not just by your hands, but by the hands of a truly entangled, reciprocal community.
What "idiotes" narratives have you observed or grappled with in your own communities? How can we collectively reweave the fabric of care and solidarity, here in Aotearoa and beyond?
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Hi Stella, what a cracking good piece of interesting insights. Thanks for sharing!