Humankind: A Hopeful History

by Rutger Bregman

‘Man will become better when you show him what he is like.’ Anton Chekhov (1860–1904)

That most people, deep down, are pretty decent. I don’t know anyone who explains this idea better than Tom Postmes, professor of social psychology at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands. For years, he’s been asking students the same question. Imagine an airplane makes an emergency landing and breaks into three parts. As the cabin fills with smoke, everybody inside realises: We’ve got to get out of here. What happens? •On Planet A, the passengers turn to their neighbours to ask if they’re okay. Those needing assistance are helped out of the plane first. People are willing to give their lives, even for perfect strangers. •On Planet B, everyone’s left to fend for themselves. Panic breaks out. There’s lots of pushing and shoving. Children, the elderly, and people with disabilities get trampled underfoot. Now the question: Which planet do we live on? ‘I would estimate about 97 per cent of people think we live on Planet B,’ says Professor Postmes. ‘The truth is, in almost every case, we live on Planet A.’1 Doesn’t

here are some traits that, according to this scientist, were needed to get you elected leader in prehistory. You had to be: Generous Brave Wise Charismatic Fair Impartial Reliable Tactful Strong Humble 21

When the new school year started, teachers at Spruce Elementary learned that an acclaimed scientist by the name of Dr Rosenthal would be administering a test to their pupils. This ‘Test of Inflected Acquisition’ indicated who would make the greatest strides at school that year. In truth it was a common or garden IQ test, and, once the scores had been tallied, Rosenthal and his team cast them all aside. They tossed a coin to decide which kids they would tell teachers were ‘high-potentials’. The kids, meanwhile, were told nothing at all. Sure enough, the power of expectation swiftly began to work its magic. Teachers gave the group of ‘smart’ pupils more attention, more encouragement and more praise, thus changing how the children saw themselves, too. The effect was clearest among the youngest kids, whose IQ scores increased by an average of twenty-seven points in a single year. The largest gains were among boys who looked Latino, a group typically subject to the lowest expectations in California.3 Rosenthal dubbed his discovery the Pygmalion Effect, after the mythological sculptor who fell so hard for one of his own creations that the gods decided to bring his statue to life. Beliefs we’re devoted to – whether they’re true or imagined – can likewise come to life, effecting very real change in the world. The Pygmalion Effect resembles the placebo effect (which I discussed in Chapter 1), except, instead of benefiting oneself, these are expectations that benefit others.

High expectations can be a powerful tool. When wielded by managers, employees perform better. When wielded by officers, soldiers fight harder. When wielded by nurses, patients recover faster.

We’re hardwired to mirror one another.

Our natural instinct to mirror others tends to be seen in a positive light for precisely this reason, but the instinct works two ways. We also mirror negative emotions such as hatred, envy and greed.

pluralistic ignorance

In a forest in Norway, about sixty miles south of Oslo, stands one of the strangest prisons in the world.

Rather than mirroring the detainees’ behaviour, staff turn the other cheek – even to hardcore felons. In fact, the guards don’t carry weapons.

In Norway, prison is not about preventing bad behaviour, but preventing bad intentions.

‘It’s really very simple,’ explains Bastøy’s warden, Tom Eberhardt. ‘Treat people like dirt, and they’ll be dirt. Treat them like human beings, and they’ll act like human beings.’

most inmates will be released sooner or later.

over 90 per cent are back on the streets in less than a year, so obviously they’re going to be somebody’s neighbour.

In the US, 60 per cent of inmates are back in the slammer after two years,

Philip Zimbardo, who in February 1973 published the first academic article on his Stanford Prison Experiment.

The first time I encountered this theory was in the same book where I’d also first read about Kitty Genovese’s murder (and the thirty-eight bystanders): journalist Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point.

I should point out that I’m not a fan of the self-help genre. If you ask me, we’re living in an age of too much introspection and too little outrospection. A better world doesn’t begin with me, but with all of us, and our main task is to build different institutions. Another hundred tips for climbing the career ladder or visualising your way to wealth won’t get us anywhere.

A realistic view of human nature can’t help but have major implications for how you interact with other people.

A single unpleasant remark makes a deeper impression than ten compliments combined (the bad may seem stronger, but it’s outnumbered by the good.). And when in doubt, we’re inclined to assume the worst.

George Bernard Shaw. ‘Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you,’ he advised. ‘Their tastes may be different.’9

When we use our intellect to try to understand someone, this activates the prefrontal cortex, an area located just behind the forehead

Take Norway’s vision on prisons, which can seem counterintuitive to the rest of us. By applying our intellect and examining recidivism statistics, we realise it’s an excellent way to deal with criminals.

Watching the evening news may leave you feeling more attuned to reality, but the truth is that it skews your view of the world.

the news zooms in on the bad apples.

Because bad behaviour grabs our attention, it’s what generates the most clicks,

If there’s one thing I’ve sought to do with this book, it’s to change the meaning of the word ‘realism’. Isn’t it telling that in modern usage the realist has become synonymous with the cynic – for someone with a pessimistic outlook?