How do you meet intolerance with tolerance, dehumanisation with humanity, monism with pluralism, a striving for dominance with a spirit of equality? Oppose it and there is the danger of replicating the very thing one is striving to overcome. But fail to confront it and such polarising forces may prevail.
For me, this is a deeply personal question. I grew up in a family of communist, with parents who described a utopian future of peace and comradeship. Yet their disparagement and vitriol towards those who held opposed views felt, to me, increasingly contradictory. How can these others—the conservatives, the business owners, the wealthy (who, paradoxically, included ourselves)—be so irredeemably awful if all people, according to my communist parents, were inherently good?
More recently, as colleagues and I developed a ‘pluralistic’ approach to counselling and psychotherapy, we found ourselves lambasted in journals and social media by those who advocated more purist therapeutic approaches. The attacks could be personal, belittling, and shaming: ‘Emperor Mick has no clothes guys’, read one Facebook post. I felt a deep compulsion to retaliate, but what of pluralism if such all-or-nothing demonisation was just batted back in a spirit of the same: No, it’s not that you’re right and I’m wrong, it’s that I’m right and you’re wrong.’
Later, again on social media, some furious rows on trans rights: ‘disavowing the differences in sex’, wrote one anti-trans clinician with whom I was arguing, is akin to ‘disavowing the differences in generations (pedophilia)’. ‘Violate the distinction in register for one, and you violate for everyone else. Simple. No confusion.’ So how to respond, as someone who abhorred such alleged equivalence between trans people and paedophiles? Attack? Challenge? Counter? Or walk away and leave well enough alone?
Developmentally, I’m ashamed to admit, my default strategy has often tended towards manipulation, and sometimes even parody. In relationships with people who felt more powerful than me, and who I could not argue with, I would (unconsciously) work on sowing seeds of doubt. Always indirect, ‘under the radar’. Never quite letting the other settle: playing at the edges, ‘reverse psychology’ my most treasured weapon. Today, still, in the face of polarisation, when I do not feel listened to, I find my mind unconsciously plotting: ‘If I say X, it might achieve Y’. I would much rather be thinking X because X was my truth.
And, of course, it is a problem far bigger than my personal dynamics. How do you face the violence meted out by Putin’s Russia, or Netanyahu’s Israel, or Hamas, in a way that does not reinforce an ideology of ‘might is right’; how do you meet Trump’s racism, discrimination, or belittling of opponents (as well as allies) that doesn’t perpetuate the demonisation of difference. Gratifying, though it may feel, to mock Trump’s stupidity, greed, or his alleged micro-penis, it fails to model an alternative, more constructive way of relating to others: a way that respects difference; that seeks win-win solutions for all; that engages through cooperation, respect, and humanisation rather than competition and blame.
This, then, is what I am calling the anti-polarisation paradox: that if we meet polarisation, or intolerance, or any other form of black-and-white demonisation with the same, we end up in danger of replicating the phenomenon we are trying to transcend. And this paradox can be seen at multiple levels: whether between communities who are at war, or between people in a relationship, or even between the different ‘parts’ of a person as they interact. How do we face, for instance, our own ‘inner critic’ who tells us that we are rubbish? By criticising that inner voice and telling it that it is rubbish too? Again, there is a need to find a different way that does not replicate the thing being opposed.
This article explores how we might meet forces that polarise, demonise, and strives for dominance in a way that does not replicate them. The article does not provide any immediate or obvious answers. What it tries to do, however, is to take a step forward by mapping out some key, non-mutually exclusive strategies and weigh up their strengths and risks.
Direct Opposition
As discussed above, the most immediate, intuitive response to dominating forces may be to directly oppose. This means to fight: to use all resources available to battle: physical, psychological, and economic—no holds barred.
Almost certainly, such an approach is sometimes the only means towards meeting domination. In the face of, for instance, Nazi Germany, it was necessary to protect again genocide and authoritarian global dominance. But direct opposition also has its risks. This article is grounded in the assumption that, undertaken blindly or as a strategy in isolation, it can end up replicating the polarisation it is seeking to counter. A strategy of direct opposition can also end up generating greater resistance in those it is opposing: a ‘reactance’ whereby the other digs their heels in even further. Opposition, alone, may also mean opportunities to understand the other are missed, which may then close down possibilities of dialogue or reconciliation.
Radical Acceptance
At the other end of the spectrum is an empathic, non-judgemental, genuine acceptance of the dominating forces’ experience—though not necessarily their behaviours. This is a refusal to meet dehumanisation with dehumanisation: a willingness to hold the humanity and the personhood of the other, however they choose to behave. Such a stance models non-polarisation, openness, and respect for others—inviting the forces of domination to replicate, in kind. Through a genuine understanding of the other and their most fundamental needs and wants, mutually beneficial solutions may be more achievable; and such a stance may also help to forge an alliance—establishing leverage points for change.
The greatest risk of such a strategy, however, is that of ineffectiveness: domination is given no reason to change and therefore may continue unopposed. Appeasement failed. Marginalised groups feel unsupported and alone. The philosopher Karl Popper writes of ‘the paradox of tolerance’: ‘Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them.’ Even, in terms of forming a bridge to the dominating forces, the latter may experience radical acceptance as patronising, inauthentic, or manipulative: evoking more resistance rather than less.
Call Out
A third strategy is to name (publicly) dominating, polarising forces for what they are: ‘You are doing X to Y’, ‘You are behaving in A way.’ And then, potentially, nothing more. This challenges the other to face their actions, but in a way that does not invite, or particularly allow, a defensive response. It may allow the other to change tack without losing too much ‘face’ or, potentially, shame them into action. Calling out the other without engaging further is also a relatively efficient means of challenge, in terms of conserving resources.
As with radical acceptance, however, calling the other out may simply leave the other to continue to behave in dominating ways, unopposed. It also does not necessarily bypass the other’s resistance (‘Who are you to tell me what I am?’), and may evoke a name-calling response in return: escalation of conflict without any genuine engagement. Calling out the other also replicates something of an absolutist, hierarchical stance: ‘I know what and who you are, whether you think that or not—and I don’t even need to explain myself.’
Reflexivity
Again, a strategy that turns away from the polarising, dominating other: in this case asking, ‘What is my part here?’ Of all the strategies this is, perhaps, the one that requires the greatest level of self-renunciation. In the face, for instance, of a critical, berating other: not to align with the other, but to take a position that could easily be seen as aligning and submissive. ‘You tell me I am a terrible person… let me ask myself how I could improve and change.’ But reflexivity also has the great advantage that all resources are returned to the self and its growth: nothing is expended on the dominating force. It also has the advantages of evoking little reactance; and of modelling a self-reflexive way of being that may, ultimately, allow for constructive social change. As with other strategies that do not oppose or engage dominating forces, however, it may leave the latter with little incentive for, or need to, change.
Ignore
A more total form of turning away comes from a refusal to engage with dominating forces: ignoring (and, at its extremes and where possible, ostracising or expelling). This is a widely-invoked strategies—‘just ignore the bullies’—that conserves resources, does not directly evoke reactance, and may provide negative reinforcement for change if, in part, ‘attention’ is the dominating forces’ desired goal. If it is not, however, ignoring can just be ignored, leaving the marginalised as vulnerable to domination as ever. In this way, Ignore can easily segue into bystander apathy.
Assertiveness
Clear, honest, direct, non-manipulative, non-blaming communication. Marshall Rosenberg’s nonviolent communication is an exemplar here: ‘When you do A, I feel B, and because I need C, I would like you to do D.’ Assertiveness allows for a direct challenge to dominating forces without the kind of blame or demonisation that may be most likely to evoke resistance; and it does it in a way that models win-win, cooperative, humanising styles of communicating. Assertiveness doesn’t deny the wants or needs of the dominating forces, it allows them to co-exist, but in the context of the needs and wants of the majority and the marginalised. Assertiveness allows for nuance, clarity, multiplicity: from a phenomenological standpoint, it allows truth to emerge in all its inter-relational complexity.
Like reflexivity, an assertive stance requires a high degree of self-discipline and self-abnegation. In the face of insults and abuses, it can be hard to hold a nonviolent, non-blaming clarity. Indeed, it requires self-reflexivity—as well as a willingness to listen to the other—and as such it is resource intensive. In itself, its effectiveness may depend on the willingness and capacity of the other to reciprocate and engage in humanising and trustful ways—though assertiveness does not negate the possibility of more forceful, even physically forceful, modes of engagement.
Of note, contemporary models of conflict resolution—whether as couples therapy, inter-individual negotiation, international mediation or, at the intra-individual level, psychotherapy—typically advocate a model akin to assertiveness/nonviolent communication. This attests to its perceived—and, to some extent, empirically-demonstrated—value within professional and lay communities.
Persuade
Assertiveness strives for change on the basis of expressing—and acknowledging—needs and wants. Persuasion strives for change through logical argument and evidence: ‘You should do X because X is right to do.’ Is assertiveness or persuasion more effective? Assertiveness has the advantage that, within a particular (phenomenological) worldview, its truth claims are incontrovertible: ‘I feel B when you do A, and I would like you to do D.’ No other can claim otherwise. But such a subjectivist view of truth is not commonplace: for most people, objective realities exist and are grounds for discussion and negotiation.
Can persuasion change? It is an empirical question where, no doubts, there are levers for greater or lesser effect. Almost certainly, however, the views of those who dominate, or who think in polarised ways, will not simply fall in line with logic and fact. We know that, as human beings, we are prey to numerous logical fallacies: self-justification, salience bias, all-or-nothing thinking, to name but a few. Attempts at persuasion may also invoke resistance, or disputation, in a way that assertiveness may bypass. Few people, when told their thinking is wrong, will simply cede ground. Indeed, such challenges may evoke greater cognitive effort to shore up one’s position. In my own experience, social media disputes have hardly ever led to the ceding of points, or the development of more mutual understandings. Far more powerful is, for instance, the desire not to be seen as weak or foolish—to be publicly shamed.
Yet, even if not short-term, people’s views can change. New standards (for instance, that segregation or sexual harassment are wrong) become accepted: ‘the arc of history is long, but it bends towards justice.’ Is that through persuasion, or more social psychological processes like peer pressure or socio-economic change? Research on the way minorities influence majorities suggests that, at least in some cases, people can genuinely develop new attitudes and beliefs through being exposed to opposing views.
Genuine Dialogue
Persuasion strives to change the other; genuine dialogue involves a willingness to enter into a two-way, mutual conversation with the other: to listen as well as to talk, to be open to being changed as well as striving to effect change. Its outcome, by its very definition, is unpredictable, with the risk that one exits more aligned to the dominating forces than opposed. Of all the strategies, it is also, perhaps, the most resource intensive: a willingness to slowly, thoughtfully, talk and listen. Is there time?
Yet genuine dialogue models, perhaps, the clearest and most compelling alternative for more constructive ways of relating. Ways that have humility, an openness to the other, a willingness to understand and value both other and self. In genuine dialogue, like in assertiveness, there is a recognition of the other—of all others—as equal to the self: with views, perspectives, and experiences worthy of understanding. As such, again like assertiveness, genuine dialogue has a transitivity (i.e., that it is the same from self to other as it is from other to self) that must, of necessity, lie at the heart of a fair, cooperatively-functioning society. This is the universal, ethical ‘Golden Rule’—‘Do unto others as you would like others to do unto you’—without which, the seeds of inequality, greed, and dominance are inevitably sown.
Protect
All of the strategies discussed to this point, aside from Ignore, focus on the dominating forces. What of the marginalised? Protect focuses efforts on those marginalised. Ignore, sideline, or do whatever to the dominating forces. Who cares! The point here is to support, with maximum effort, those who are suffering. Protect optimises opportunities to equalise: it works with and for the oppressed. Yet, like Ignore, there is a risk that it fails to tackle the dominating forces effectively, and perpetuates a ‘perpetrator-victim-rescuer’ dynamic.
Pluralism: Openness to Otherness
Like Protect, Pluralism determinedly holds open a space for otherness—in the face of domination. Unlike Protect, however, this valuing of otherness becomes a universal value: extended to the dominating forces (as in Radical Acceptance) as well as those dominated. As such, it has the transitivity of Genuine Dialogue and Assertiveness, and models non-polarisation and a recognition of complexity.
The risks of pluralism, however, is that it may not—or may be seen as not—recognising the power dynamics inherent in the dominating-dominated relationship. These two groups are not equivalent and treating them as such may be seen as condoning, albeit implicitly, inequalities. When X is dominating Y, any acknowledgment or validation of X is inevitably acting against Y. What feels, to the pluralist, as a standpoint of equipoise may be experienced, by the marginalised, as collusion with the dominator. Moreover, for the dominating forces, such sympathies with the dominated may be perceived in an equally hostile way.
Discussion: Beyond Either/Or
These are only some of the possible responses to polarisation. Other, potentially overlapping, strategies might include:
Authenticity
Empathy
Defuse
Irony
As this review indicates, each of the strategies for meeting domination and dehumanisation have strengths and risks. There is no one, single ‘right’ strategy—not a surprising conclusion for an article that strives to transcend polarisation. Equally, as emphasised in the Introduction, these strategies are by no means mutually exclusive: it may be that a combination of different approaches yields greatest benefit. Indeed, it may be more fruitful to conceptualise these strategies as continua rather than categories: for instance, what degrees of reflexivity, calling out dominating forces, and protecting marginalised groups may combine to best effect?
Crucially, too, it seems likely that different factors will moderate the extent to which different strategies may be of benefit. One important factor, for instance, may be the power of the dominating forces. If low, strategies like Ignore or Assertiveness may be most appropriate whereas, if high, strategies like Direct Opposition or Protect may be most necessary for change. Other moderators may include the persuadability of the dominating forces, their underlying needs and wants, the urgency of the situation, the amount of harm that is being done, and our own positioning (are we part of the marginalised group, the dominating force, or external to both?).
This paper has considered forces like domination, dehumanisation, and polarisation as synonymous; and assumed equivalence from micro- to macro-level systems. Undoubtedly, differences in the types and effectiveness of strategies, and their moderators, may exist across all these dimensions.
Research could do much to further an understanding of effective strategies for meeting dominating forces, and their moderators. Historical analyses, for instance, would allow for a deepened understanding of which strategies have tended to work best under which circumstances. A wealth of psychological research—on, for instance, majority and minority influence, persuasion, and nonviolent communication—could also contribute to an understand of how dominating forces can be most effectively challenged. A programme of experimental research—along, for instance, the lines of the ‘prisoner’s dilemma game’—could also help to understand when, how, and why dominating groups are most effected to give up privilege. Ultimately, implementation and evaluation in ‘real world’ settings would be essential to test out the validity of identified approaches.
Despite all these complexities and future challenges, this article is an attempt to find some language and some initial framework for answering the question: How do we meet the forces of domination (and dehumanisation and polarisation etcetera) in a way that goes beyond replicating those forces? There are no simple answers, but a disciplined willingness to uphold complexity, uncertainty, and otherness seems core to the emergence of a new paradigm: one that moves beyond polarisation towards a more compassionate, caring, and humane form of human engagement.
Acknowledgment
This paper was presented at the 2025 Bridging the Arts and Sciences for Human Betterment symposium, Madison, Wisconsin. Thanks to our host, Carol Ryff, for inspiration and support.
Photo by Ernest Malimon on Unsplash
An interesting BBC In Our Time podcast on this theme is available here