Outraged Why we fight about morality and politics

"Competing perceptions of harm" drive much of today's moral and political furor, according to this intriguing study by UNC-Chapel Hill neuroscience professor Gray (coauthor of The Mind Club). He argues that because humans spent most of history in constant fear of physical danger, the brain evolved a "harm-based" mindset that exercises a wide latitude when it comes to interpreting threats. For example, leftists might see systemic racism or wealth inequality as especially dangerous, while those on the right might feel most threatened by restrictions on firearms and perceived attacks on religious freedoms. According to the author, this means that both sides act in a manner that is self-protective rather than predatory, a notion that underlies his strategies for bridging social divides--for instance, by "learning about experiences of suffering" in a "psychologically safe" environment where people can share emotions without fear of attack. While the author spends more time discussing how humans developed the harm-based mindset than offering advice for overcoming its ill effects, he makes a solid case for rejecting the "easy idea that people who disagree with you are motivated to destroy." It's a well-supported study of the neuroscience behind one of today's most pressing social issues. (Jan.)

A social psychologist offers counterintuitive advice for bridging partisan differences. Gray, whose University of North Carolina lab studies morality and beliefs, wants us to ditch what he calls the "destruction narrative"--the notion that those who don't agree with our views aren't just wrong but want to annihilate our way of life. He traces this outlook to early humankind, when our ancestors were more apt to be preyed upon by other animals. "Hardwired" to stave off mortal threats, we "intuitively" worry that those who don't share our moral values might be harmful. This anxiety, of course, is deepened by social media, where misinformation and opportunism fuel ceaseless moral outrage. It's a thoughtful argument, though Gray offers little evidence that "feelings of danger" are intensified because people doomscroll when they're "on the toilet or in bed," essentially defenseless. Relying on his own lab studies, he does a solid job of demonstrating that people who want to find areas of potential agreement with political adversaries shouldn't rely solely on objective truths. Often, he argues, facts should temporarily go on the back burner. In an era when "everyone has their own statistics," facts alone are unlikely to change the "moral convictions" that underlie a person's views on climate change or sectarian violence. "Facts are essential to every aspect of life," he hastens to note, but his research indicates that "harm-based stories" are more effective at lowering the temperature. People who cite "personal experiences of harm" when discussing issues like abortion or gun violence are seen as "more human and more rational" than those who rely exclusively on trustworthy data. Is Gray's guidance a revealing indictment of American political life's superficiality? Perhaps, but it's clear that facts alone aren't getting the job done. A hopeful, helpful prescription for overcoming polarization. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.