Othering, Loneliness and Compassion
Over the course of Loneliness Awareness Week which ran here in Australia from the 4th – 10th of August I have seen many wonderful posts focusing on what individuals can do to feel less lonely. Often, hope is created by having a clear plan about what we will do to reduce our own suffering. https://lonelinessawarenessweek.com.au provides excellent tip sheets for young people experiencing loneliness, and as with all good loneliness campaigns offers the chance to feel connected by sharing an experience. While aimed at young people, I encourage anyone feeling lonely today to check it out.
While celebrating and applauding the posts, blogs and articles I have seen this week, I also had a niggling thought about how we move to reduce loneliness in a world that seems to be promoting othering and division at every turn. Loath to simply repeat information amply provided, I have discussed this below.
What is othering?
Othering is believed to have evolved from the evolutionary need to protect in group cohesion and to enhance belonging, safety, and survival. In a time of dwelling in caves, being nourished through hunting and gathering, and needing to hold on to high resource environments, remaining ingroup was essential for survival. We had to belong, and we had to protect our spot. It is human nature to be drawn to what is familiar and to feel safer when we can predict what might happen next. As such difference can be interpreted as dangerous without a lot of thought. In a high stimuli world, holding broad group or context assumptions allows our tricky brains to navigate through without having to think specifically about each individual happening in front of us.
Othering, however, goes beyond this innate human process. Currently, the term is most commonly found in the context of social marginalisation and in conversations about war and peace. It describes a homogenised negative view of those who are on the edges, or are in other ways different, and is centred in dehumanising. At worst it a precipitant and justification of the atrocities of war and discrimination and, tragically, is often also used by those campaigning for social justice and peace as well, contributing to a fractured society and increased isolation, loneliness and anxiety across groups.
Belonging on the other hand often comes up in conversation about individual well-being. And rightly so. Belonging and inclusion are proven to have positive impact on both mental health and physical well-being. How then can we talk about loneliness without also talking about a broader social context in which belonging is increasingly centred around othering. Finding your people is great, and there are natural groupings which promote shared interests, values and ways of life. This is the nature of life and humanity and thank goodness. If we were all the same life would be lopsided or terribly dull. Othering, however, forgets that the groups we understand less are filled with our fellow humans, and assigns globally negative traits and blame to whole groups. Assumption are often based on the behaviour of those at the more extreme edges of that population, yet are assigned to who groups. It forgets that those others too likely crave safe belonging at their core.
When, in reading about more global issues, I first came across the word othering I immediately understood what it meant. Oddly I recalled being a second-year university student arriving for O-week and feeling a little discomfort that my friends, only a few months out of their own first year, were (privately) making fun of the new first year students. They discussed them as if they were one homogenous group somehow vastly different and separate from us. Were the consequences big for anyone here? Unlikely. Within a few days everyone had moved back to focussing on their own lives, and the natural integration with other students continued. It clearly sat with me however as odd and, frankly, unhelpfully unkind. I also suddenly had a word for the discomfort I had felt in social justice spaces aligned with my clinical work – the othering of naturally slender women through a popular phrase “real women have curves” in the incredibly valid fight against fat phobia and objectification of women’s bodies for example. Perhaps it was the in-group othering that has struck me as particularly hard to understand. It surprised me that as well as much bigger examples of othering nationally and internationally, such as racism, homophobia, and religious hate I could recall many other micro examples I had witnessed which appeared to contribute to separation, isolation and missed opportunity for understanding. This disconnection surely contributes to a breeding ground for despondency and increased isolation and loneliness in everyone, and to me has at times appeared to get in the way of change.
In today’s social media heavy world our access to othering is at an all-time high, as is belonging to groups which are only a click or two away from extreme in group views. Often belonging through othering is being sold to vulnerable and isolated individuals. The manosphere is selling ideas of women’s deliberately cruel withholding and rejection, while women are rolling their eyes at the male loneliness crisis. Meanwhile, loneliness everywhere grows.
Loneliness
Loneliness is different from being alone. We can have time by ourselves and feel content, inspired, productive and peaceful. Loneliness however described a sadness or emptiness connected to a lack of meaningful connection or belonging. Moments of loneliness are part of a normative and healthy human experience. Chronically, however, research is showing loneliness is bad for our health. We are a social species designed for connection and when with safe others our brains and bodies do all sorts of cool physical and mental health promoting things. So, how is it in a supposedly ever connected world, we feel lonelier than we ever have before?
I moved to Melbourne 12 or so years ago knowing only a couple of people and found it to be a city filled with diverse and welcoming people. Differences appeared to be not only accepted but celebrated. Stand in the city with a map for more than two minutes and someone usually asks if you need help. What a delight! Before I had made close friends, I had a sense of connectedness to this bustling and varied community. Utopia it was not, and I am aware my many privileges influenced my experience, however collective humanity appeared to exude out of the people moving through this city and I felt more at home than I had anywhere previously. In recent years many clients and friends have told a different story. Loneliness is being described as an epidemic across the world and this city that I love has not been immune. Long lockdowns exacerbated isolation and extreme and divisive views, and all that has followed has kept agitation and conflict on the surface of daily life. People have retreated into their safest circles and bonded over distrust of others rather than a shared and collective community.
Research shows that in times of health, economic, or security crises we are more prone to believe conspiracy theories and to other those we perceived to be different to us. I don’t need to detail here the way we have experienced these insecurities in recent years. It is important however to note that we are vulnerable to messages that promote division. Vulnerable to moving away from collective acceptance of diversity. Vulnerable to forgetting to look for the human behind the face that isn’t familiar to us and focusing on othering rather than the behaviours of group members that, often rightly, alarm us. As such as we focus on individual loneliness, I believe it is also important to discuss the context loneliness is growing within.
So, what do we do? How do we take little steps towards addressing our own loneliness, and also contribute a society that supports inclusion, acceptance and safety for all?
Compassion
Ten or so years ago I discovered Compassion Focussed Therapy. I fell in love with its strong focus on doing what was helpful, and its integration of neuroscience, evolutionary psychology, mindfulness, attachment theory and modern psychological strategies such as compassionate thinking and imagery practices. It innately made sense to me that compassion, a profoundly loving, strong and action oriented human state, could be at the centre of inner wisdom and healing. I have been heartened to discover that compassion is being discussed by those looking at big picture issues too.
Compassion is centred in common humanity. To be human it posits, is to err, to suffer, to get it wrong. Each of us finds ourselves here with tricky brains, born into families, suburbs, cultures and eras we did not choose. We do not choose our early experiences, and typically, we do the best we can with the experiences and resources we have. Compassion does not absolve us or others of responsibility. It asks us to start with a recognition that our suffering is valid and is a core part of the human experience. Therefore, it connects us immediately to our common humanity. What a beautiful place to start. Compassion also asks us to understand that others too are flawed humans, generally doing the best they can with what they’ve got. Most people do not move through our community looking to do harm. Instead, they too seek to experience safe connection and adequate resource to survive.
Research shows that when we connect to a felt sense of compassion, for ourselves or others, the threat systems in our brain tone down and our affiliative or connecting systems light up. We are less likely to start from a position of fighting or fleeing if we are connected to a broad sense of community belonging and togetherness. Research has also found that those experiencing loneliness are less likely to engage in self or other oriented compassion. This of course exacerbates loneliness, threat and isolation providing the perfect breeding ground for increased othering. This leaves more and more people finding it difficult to move towards a more connected life. In loneliness we perceive we should seek the most familiar, to find those heading back to our cave. This is part of positive coping, and it can also increase behaviours that keep us separate from the range of humans around us.
Therefore, if you have made it this far through, I invite you to move into the week ahead looking for opportunity to promote connectedness, compassion and care to those around you. This can be as simple as smiling at a stranger, going past a new colleague’s desk to make sure they know where the best coffee shop near the office is, or passing a tissue to someone who is tearful on the tram. If you’re feeling resilient it might also include asking a person you had written off for a different opinion to explain to you what had influenced their position. Our brains have an amazing ability to co-regulate which means these small acts of compassion and connectedness for others also light up the feel-good parts of our brain too. Everyone wins. And to those who are social justice inclined, keep fighting the good fight. Change is required. I invite you however to bring compassion to your strategy and do your best to stay away from othering different groups in our beautiful, multicultural and diverse city. This only activates their threat state making it more difficult for them to hear your mostly likely valid point of view.
I will leave you with a story my dear cousin told me in his final week in Melbourne. He is a very smart man, happiest with a book in hand and most comfortable in a library or seated with other academics discussing big ideas. While living in Melbourne he had developed a habit frequenting local op-shops and had become increasingly well dressed. A far cry from the fashions of small-town New Zealand where he had had grown up. Standing on a Melbourne street he described a very well dressed African American man standing nearby. With a nod towards his outfit this gentleman said, “that’s good man”, followed by a brief introduction, a “fist pump” and the words “keep on”. In witnessing the retelling of this story, I witnessed the joy of connectedness. Two men from likely meaningfully different worlds, found a means of connection through an appreciation of good clothes. A few kind words, a big smile, and a moment of beautiful shared humanity. When I reached out this week to check that it was okay I retold this story he said, “I am still dreaming of Pierre, best day of my life”. Sure, this was somewhat hyperbolic, but it was clear this moment had continued to be held with warmth and joy. Together, tiny action by tiny action, we can ease our own loneliness, and the loneliness rife in our community today.
Additional loneliness resources can be found at:
Watch this space for a group therapy addressing loneliness by the end of the year - we are excited.
Deb Newburn, Clinical Psychologist and Director, proud to bring together a group of compassionate clinicians supporting our South Melbourne community.