Inside every person, there are sparks of dark flame as powerful and ancient as mankind itself. As a rule, they lie dormant, buried under thick layers of civility and goodwill. However, eventually, they awake and give rise to one of our strongest passions: hatred.
A society based on cooperation is wary of hatred and its immense destructive potential. Hatred is not quite like the other emotions, such as fear or anger, being less of an instant response to a particular situation and more of a moral evaluation of the target’s intrinsic characteristics. It is also relentless; according to the article Why We Hate by Agneta Fischer, Eran Halperin, Daphna Canetti, and Alba Jasini, “the emotivational goal of hate is not merely to hurt, but to ultimately eliminate or destroy the target, either mentally (humiliating, treasuring feelings of revenge), socially (excluding, ignoring), or physically (killing, torturing), which may be accompanied by the goal to let the wrongdoer suffer.” The differences between the haters and the hated are too significant; reconciliation is not an option while they exist.
From the neurological point of view, hate has a unique pattern. The often-cited study by Semir Zeki and John Paul Romaya claims that “[t]he network [of brain activity] has components that have been considered to be important in (a) generating aggressive behavior and (b) translating this behavior into motor action through motor planning. Finally, and most intriguingly, the network involves regions of the putamen and the insula that are almost identical to the ones activated by passionate, romantic, love.” Unlike love, however, hate is likely to involve judgement and calculation.
There is a reason behind our ability to hate. It is a self-defence mechanism motivating us to fight and neutralise threats; moreover, it allows us to deal not only with the immediate but also with the abstract and the long-term, which is very useful for understanding and preventing future dangers. It facilitates and quickens decision-making while mobilising the internal resources needed to act. In terms of social groups, hatred of outsiders serves to sustain vigilance and increase cohesion: in extreme situations, such as war, this may be the difference between survival and death.
The mechanism is, of course, far from flawless. Our perceptions are limited, and so are our judgements. We may thus be mistaken in our assessment of events, individuals, or groups, which may result in our hatred being unjustified. Still, it is an integral part of human nature.
Hate is human
Today’s society is trying to erase hatred, pretending it is only experienced by a minority of violent individuals. It is considered divisive, disruptive, and uncouth—unless the word is used to describe a feeling of irritation at some minor circumstance. One can still legitimately hate traffic jams, but hating one’s foe is all but unacceptable. It is now rare for people to admit they can hate, often even to themselves. Such is the power of the taboo that some can describe their feelings but refuse to name them.
This is a relatively recent development of social norms. Throughout human history, hate was not viewed as generally abnormal or anti-social. It was just another emotion that, along with anger, despair or love, had a place in human relationships. In separate cases, it could be deemed excessive or unreasonable, but it was permissible and sometimes even expected.
It is probably unsurprising that, like many other progressive changes, the elimination of hate began in the 1940s. Post-war Germany adopted the first ‘hate speech’ legislation, and most European states followed suit. The U.S. did not join them, protecting the rights guaranteed by the First Amendment. Still, during the next few decades, filled with debates over various forms of discrimination, successive U.S. administrations came up with a fair amount of ‘anti-hate’ policies. As a result, hate became closely associated with genocide, and even interpersonal hate was pushed away from the public sphere. But the international crusade against it, instead of protecting citizens from the state, continues to infringe upon individual freedoms.
“Hate speech is a denial of the values of tolerance, inclusion, diversity, and the very essence of human rights norms and principles,” the United Nations website claims. “It may expose those targeted to discrimination, abuse and violence, but also social and economic exclusion. When left unchecked, expressions of hatred can even harm societies, peace and development, as it lays the ground for conflict, tension and human rights violations, including atrocity crimes.” The Council of Europe is in agreement, proclaiming that “[i]t poses grave dangers for the cohesion of a democratic society, the protection of human rights and the rule of law. If left unaddressed, it can lead to acts of violence and conflict on a wider scale.”
In practice, this approach provides endless excuses to curb free speech, even if the speaker is not necessarily hateful. Jokes, provocations, theoretical considerations—all may fall under the umbrella of hate speech if arbitrarily perceived as such. And if there is indeed some hate involved, this amounts to policing emotions and thoughts. “We are free to express ourselves, even to the extent that our opinion may offend, shock or disturb others. But not everything is acceptable as free speech,” said the Secretary General of the Council of Europe, further mentioning that “[f]rom shouting at someone in the street to posting offensive comments online—hate speech can take many forms.” So where do we draw the line?
Thoughts not words
It seems reasonable to make a distinction between words and actions. Expressions should remain free as long as no physical harm is done to people and property. Murder, arson, or robbery are crimes that can be objectively evaluated, and their consequences are real. The act of hating, on the other hand, invites unreliable subjective interpretation.
Nevertheless, modern legislators chose the path of punishing intentions. This time, the U.S. led the international community, inventing the idea of hate crime: an action already criminal under the law but motivated by bias and hate toward a particular group, which thus warrants a greater penalty than usual. The goal is to deter; here, governments come worryingly close to enforcing morality rather than keeping order.
The next question naturally arises: who decides what the correct thoughts are? The Crown Prosecution Service (UK), for example, explains that “[t]here is no legal definition of hostility so we use the everyday understanding of the word which includes ill-will, spite, contempt, prejudice, unfriendliness, antagonism, resentment and dislike.” The Metropolitan Police also helpfully offers the following guidance: “Evidence of the hate element is not a requirement. You do not need to personally perceive the incident to be hate related. It would be enough if another person, a witness or even a police officer thought that the incident was hate related.”
Proponents of these laws argue that hate crime causes more distress, especially if its victim belongs to an oppressed group. They think it creates division and anxiety, potentially leading to greater violence. Yet this view is not just counterproductive, it is harmful in itself. It infantilises our society, robbing people of a chance to develop mental toughness, test each other and learn to communicate without a supervisor. Actual crimes should be punished with all appropriate severity, but thoughts and words should have nothing to do with it.
Unlike the progressive ideas of our era, hate is intrinsic to humans. It will not be eliminated by artificial measures, nor should it be, especially if tempered by reason and staying within the limits of proportional response. It can be destructive, but sometimes shying away from conflict is not an answer. Sometimes, dark flames of hate are precisely what the situation demands.
The ‘H’ Word
Inside every person, there are sparks of dark flame as powerful and ancient as mankind itself. As a rule, they lie dormant, buried under thick layers of civility and goodwill. However, eventually, they awake and give rise to one of our strongest passions: hatred.
A society based on cooperation is wary of hatred and its immense destructive potential. Hatred is not quite like the other emotions, such as fear or anger, being less of an instant response to a particular situation and more of a moral evaluation of the target’s intrinsic characteristics. It is also relentless; according to the article Why We Hate by Agneta Fischer, Eran Halperin, Daphna Canetti, and Alba Jasini, “the emotivational goal of hate is not merely to hurt, but to ultimately eliminate or destroy the target, either mentally (humiliating, treasuring feelings of revenge), socially (excluding, ignoring), or physically (killing, torturing), which may be accompanied by the goal to let the wrongdoer suffer.” The differences between the haters and the hated are too significant; reconciliation is not an option while they exist.
From the neurological point of view, hate has a unique pattern. The often-cited study by Semir Zeki and John Paul Romaya claims that “[t]he network [of brain activity] has components that have been considered to be important in (a) generating aggressive behavior and (b) translating this behavior into motor action through motor planning. Finally, and most intriguingly, the network involves regions of the putamen and the insula that are almost identical to the ones activated by passionate, romantic, love.” Unlike love, however, hate is likely to involve judgement and calculation.
There is a reason behind our ability to hate. It is a self-defence mechanism motivating us to fight and neutralise threats; moreover, it allows us to deal not only with the immediate but also with the abstract and the long-term, which is very useful for understanding and preventing future dangers. It facilitates and quickens decision-making while mobilising the internal resources needed to act. In terms of social groups, hatred of outsiders serves to sustain vigilance and increase cohesion: in extreme situations, such as war, this may be the difference between survival and death.
The mechanism is, of course, far from flawless. Our perceptions are limited, and so are our judgements. We may thus be mistaken in our assessment of events, individuals, or groups, which may result in our hatred being unjustified. Still, it is an integral part of human nature.
Hate is human
Today’s society is trying to erase hatred, pretending it is only experienced by a minority of violent individuals. It is considered divisive, disruptive, and uncouth—unless the word is used to describe a feeling of irritation at some minor circumstance. One can still legitimately hate traffic jams, but hating one’s foe is all but unacceptable. It is now rare for people to admit they can hate, often even to themselves. Such is the power of the taboo that some can describe their feelings but refuse to name them.
This is a relatively recent development of social norms. Throughout human history, hate was not viewed as generally abnormal or anti-social. It was just another emotion that, along with anger, despair or love, had a place in human relationships. In separate cases, it could be deemed excessive or unreasonable, but it was permissible and sometimes even expected.
It is probably unsurprising that, like many other progressive changes, the elimination of hate began in the 1940s. Post-war Germany adopted the first ‘hate speech’ legislation, and most European states followed suit. The U.S. did not join them, protecting the rights guaranteed by the First Amendment. Still, during the next few decades, filled with debates over various forms of discrimination, successive U.S. administrations came up with a fair amount of ‘anti-hate’ policies. As a result, hate became closely associated with genocide, and even interpersonal hate was pushed away from the public sphere. But the international crusade against it, instead of protecting citizens from the state, continues to infringe upon individual freedoms.
“Hate speech is a denial of the values of tolerance, inclusion, diversity, and the very essence of human rights norms and principles,” the United Nations website claims. “It may expose those targeted to discrimination, abuse and violence, but also social and economic exclusion. When left unchecked, expressions of hatred can even harm societies, peace and development, as it lays the ground for conflict, tension and human rights violations, including atrocity crimes.” The Council of Europe is in agreement, proclaiming that “[i]t poses grave dangers for the cohesion of a democratic society, the protection of human rights and the rule of law. If left unaddressed, it can lead to acts of violence and conflict on a wider scale.”
In practice, this approach provides endless excuses to curb free speech, even if the speaker is not necessarily hateful. Jokes, provocations, theoretical considerations—all may fall under the umbrella of hate speech if arbitrarily perceived as such. And if there is indeed some hate involved, this amounts to policing emotions and thoughts. “We are free to express ourselves, even to the extent that our opinion may offend, shock or disturb others. But not everything is acceptable as free speech,” said the Secretary General of the Council of Europe, further mentioning that “[f]rom shouting at someone in the street to posting offensive comments online—hate speech can take many forms.” So where do we draw the line?
Thoughts not words
It seems reasonable to make a distinction between words and actions. Expressions should remain free as long as no physical harm is done to people and property. Murder, arson, or robbery are crimes that can be objectively evaluated, and their consequences are real. The act of hating, on the other hand, invites unreliable subjective interpretation.
Nevertheless, modern legislators chose the path of punishing intentions. This time, the U.S. led the international community, inventing the idea of hate crime: an action already criminal under the law but motivated by bias and hate toward a particular group, which thus warrants a greater penalty than usual. The goal is to deter; here, governments come worryingly close to enforcing morality rather than keeping order.
The next question naturally arises: who decides what the correct thoughts are? The Crown Prosecution Service (UK), for example, explains that “[t]here is no legal definition of hostility so we use the everyday understanding of the word which includes ill-will, spite, contempt, prejudice, unfriendliness, antagonism, resentment and dislike.” The Metropolitan Police also helpfully offers the following guidance: “Evidence of the hate element is not a requirement. You do not need to personally perceive the incident to be hate related. It would be enough if another person, a witness or even a police officer thought that the incident was hate related.”
Proponents of these laws argue that hate crime causes more distress, especially if its victim belongs to an oppressed group. They think it creates division and anxiety, potentially leading to greater violence. Yet this view is not just counterproductive, it is harmful in itself. It infantilises our society, robbing people of a chance to develop mental toughness, test each other and learn to communicate without a supervisor. Actual crimes should be punished with all appropriate severity, but thoughts and words should have nothing to do with it.
Unlike the progressive ideas of our era, hate is intrinsic to humans. It will not be eliminated by artificial measures, nor should it be, especially if tempered by reason and staying within the limits of proportional response. It can be destructive, but sometimes shying away from conflict is not an answer. Sometimes, dark flames of hate are precisely what the situation demands.
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