Humankind

by Rutger Bregman

  These letters and small gifts are tucked inside 6,823 floating balls–transparent Christmas ornaments–which are then dropped into the rivers. At night, tiny lights inside the balls make the river twinkle as though lit by stars gliding into enemy territory. The result? Another 180 rebels lay down their weapons, including a FARC bomb maker.

  And so it continues. The following year brings Operation Bethlehem. In the course of their interviews, Carlos and Juan learn that guerrillas often become disoriented in the jungle. Even if they wanted to go home, they can’t always find their way. So the marketing agency drops thousands of little lights from military helicopters. They also set up giant beacons on the ground whose beams pierce the sky and can be seen for miles around. Rebels trying to make their way out of the jungle need only look up, like the shepherds who followed the star to Bethlehem.

  Then the team decides to bring out the big guns.

  If there’s one thing guerrillas miss in the jungle, the guys at MullenLowe discover, it’s their mothers. From the Colombian secret service they get a list of women who have children in FARC. Some haven’t seen their kids for more than twenty years. Carlos and Juan ask them for old childhood snapshots of the rebels, and the team places these pictures (which only the guerrillas themselves will recognise) in parts of the jungle where FARC is fighting. The photographs all bear a simple caption: ‘Before you were a guerrilla, you were my child.’

  It’s another hit, convincing 218 lost sons and daughters to go home to their parents.17 Once reunited, they’re granted amnesty and sent to reintegration programmes to help them learn a trade and find a job. The secret behind the whole campaign? The rebels aren’t seen as monsters, but as ordinary people. ‘We aren’t searching for a criminal,’ Juan explains, ‘but for a child, missing in the jungle.’18

  Where did all this generosity spring from? Why were the rebels offered amnesty and training and jobs? How did the people of Colombia find it in themselves to leave the past for what it was?

  When I put these questions to Jose Miguel Sokoloff, Juan and Carlos’ boss at MullenLowe, he laughs. ‘I think our campaign may have slightly exaggerated the number of people who were willing to give the rebels a second chance.’19

  Not that they had much choice. The agency came up against the same paradox Europe faced in 1914. The further you got from the front lines, the stronger the hatred. ‘People who were never affected by the war tended to be the worst hardliners,’ José confirms. But those who had actually been kidnapped themselves, or lost loved ones, wanted to put the past behind them.

  The ad team decided to zero in on those stories. They decided to pretend all of Colombia would welcome returning rebels with open arms, hoping to spark off a self-fulfilling prophecy. And it worked. Thousands of guerrillas have come home since 2010, whittling down FARC’s ranks in just a few years from 20,000 members to less than half that number.

  Of course, this exodus wasn’t all down to the operations mounted by José and his team, but at the Colombian Ministry of Defence they’re convinced the peace propaganda played a crucial role. The Ministry of Finance is no doubt equally pleased with the outcome, since Christmas lights are a lot cheaper than bombs and grenades.20

  MullenLowe’s campaign provided a key impetus for the Colombian peace process that started in 2011.21 A few years later, President Juan Manuel Santos–the defence minister who’d engaged MullenLowe–was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. After more than half a century of fighting, the conflict was at an end. The following year, FARC handed over thousands of weapons and the last remaining fighters walked out of the jungle.

  ‘Today is a special day,’ declared President Santos. ‘The day when weapons are exchanged for words.’22

  4

  This is not to say Colombia suddenly turned into some kind of peaceable kingdom. Other rebel groups still occupy the jungle, as demobilisation of the leftist FARC has now made room for far-right paramilitaries and drug traffickers. Nor will the scars from a half-century of bloodshed ever fade completely.

  Even so, this story is one of hope. What the Colombian ad team witnessed was the same infectious power of kindness seen a hundred years earlier. When peace spread like an epidemic that Christmas in 1914, few soldiers were immune. One of the rare exceptions was a stiff-necked twenty-five-year-old corporal in the 16th Bavarian Reserve Infantry Regiment, who declared that ‘Such things should not happen in wartime.’ His name was Adolf Hitler.23

  Most other servicemen remembered the truce in the trenches as a highlight of their lives. Again and again it was the men closest to the fighting who reached out first. From there the spirit of friendship rose through the ranks until it infected even captains, majors and colonels.

  Only leaders at the very top proved resistant, as generals turned themselves inside out to halt the plague of peace. On 29 December, German Army Command issued an order that strictly prohibited fraternising with the enemy. This was echoed by a British field marshal who demanded all gestures of friendship cease.24 Anybody who disobeyed would be court-martialled.

  In subsequent years, military leaders were better prepared. At Christmas 1915, British High Command bombarded strategic positions day and night to quash any spark of Yuletide sentiment. Lieutenant Wyn Griffith of the Royal Welch Fusiliers wrote they had received ‘strict orders […] We were to remain throughout possessed by the spirit of hate, answering any advances with lead.’25

  And yet, had it been up to many of the soldiers, the war would have ended after Christmas 1914. ‘If we had been left to ourselves,’ proclaimed a British major, ‘there would never have been another shot fired.’26

  Thousands of soldiers did their best to sustain the peace. Letters were passed across the lines, in secret. ‘Be on guard tomorrow,’ wrote a French unit to a German one. ‘A general is coming to visit our position […] we shall have to fire.’ A British battalion received a similar missive from the Germans: ‘We will remain your comrades. If we shall be forced to fire we will fire too high.’27

  Soldiers at some points along the front managed to extend the ceasefire for weeks. And truces continued to break out, in spite of all the suppressive measures. When there was a mutiny among half the French divisions in 1917, the Germans didn’t even realise anything was amiss. They assumed the French soldiers were merely sticking to their longstanding tacit agreement not to shoot.28

  Throughout the war, peace threatened to erupt at any moment. Military historian Tony Ashworth describes Christmas 1914 as ‘the sudden surfacing of the whole of an iceberg’.29 For even in wartime there’s a mountain of peace ready to rise up at any moment. To push that mountain back below the surface, generals, politicians and warmongers have to draw on every means at their disposal, from fake news to sheer force. Humans are simply not wired for war.

  The thing we all need to remember–myself included–is that those other folks are a lot like us. The angry voter venting on TV, the refugee in the statistics, the criminal in the mugshot: every one of them is a human being of flesh and blood, someone who in a different life might have been our friend, our family, our beloved. Just like us, as one British soldier realised, ‘they have people they love at home’.30

  When we hole up in our own trenches, we lose sight of reality. We’re lured into thinking that a small, hate-mongering minority reflects all humankind. Like the handful of anonymous internet trolls that are responsible for almost all the vitriol on Twitter and Facebook.31 And even the most caustic keyboard crusader may at other times be a thoughtful friend or loving caregiver.

  To believe people are hardwired to be kind isn’t sentimental or naive. On the contrary, it’s courageous and realistic to believe in peace and forgiveness. Jose Miguel Sokoloff tells of an officer in one of the Colombian army units that helped spread the ad agency’s Christmas message. A few months later, the officer was killed in action. Jose still gets emotional remembering what he learned from his friend. ‘I want to do this,’ the officer told him, ‘because generosity makes me stronger. And it ma
kes my men feel stronger, too.’32

  That’s a truth as old as time. Because, like all the best things in life, the more you give, the more you have. That’s true of trust and friendship, and it’s true of peace.

  Epilogue

  TEN RULES TO LIVE BY

  ‘If you make a film about a man kidnapping a woman and chaining her to a radiator for five years–something that has happened probably once in history–it’s called searingly realistic analysis of society. If I make a film like Love Actually, which is about people falling in love, and there are about a million people falling in love in Britain today, it’s called a sentimental presentation of an unrealistic world.’

  Richard Curtis

  Legend has it that two words were inscribed in the forecourt of the Temple of Apollo in Delphi. The temple was a major pilgrimage site, and visitors came here from all corners of ancient Greece in search of divine counsel.

  What they read, upon entering, was: GNOTHI SEAUTON.

  Know thyself.

  Considering the most recent evidence of psychology and biology, of archaeology and anthropology, of sociology and history, we can only conclude that humans have for millennia navigated by a faulty self-image. For ages, we’ve assumed that people are selfish, that we’re beasts, or worse. For ages, we’ve believed civilisation is a flimsy veneer that will crack at the merest provocation. Now we know this view of humankind, and this perspective on our history, is utterly unrealistic.

  In the last chapters of this book I’ve attempted to present the new world that awaits if we revise our view of human nature. I’ve probably only scratched the surface. After all, if we believe most people are decent and kind, everything changes. We can completely rethink how we organise our schools and prisons, our businesses and democracies. And how we live our own lives.

  At this 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.

  But then a friend asked me if writing this book had changed my own view on life, and I realised that the answer is yes. A realistic view of human nature can’t help but have major implications for how you interact with other people. So for what it’s worth, here are my own ten rules to live by, based on what I’ve learned over the past few years.

  I: When in doubt, assume the best

  My first commandment for myself is also the hardest. In Chapter 3 we saw that humans have evolved to connect, but communication can be tricky. You say something that gets taken the wrong way, or someone looks at you funny, or nasty comments get passed through the grapevine. In every relationship, even one built on years of matrimony, we often don’t know what the other person is thinking about us.

  And so we guess. Say I suspect a co-worker doesn’t like me. Regardless of whether that’s true, my behaviour is certain to alter in ways that won’t help our relationship. In Chapter 1 we saw that people have a negativity bias. 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.

  Meanwhile, we fall victim to what’s known as asymmetrical feedback. Basically, this means that if your faith in someone is misplaced, the truth will surface sooner or later. You’ll discover that your best friend has fled the country with your life savings, or the deal on that fixer-upper was indeed too good to be true, or after six weeks of using the Ab King Pro you still don’t have the six pack promised on TV. If you’ve been too trusting, eventually you find out.1

  But if you decide not to trust someone, you’ll never know if you’re right. Because you’ll never get any feedback. Let’s say you get screwed over by some blond Dutch guy, so you swear never again to trust blond people from Holland. For the rest of your life, you’ll be suspicious of all blond Dutchies, without ever having to face the simple truth that most of them are pretty decent.

  So when in doubt about another person’s intentions, what should you do?

  It’s most realistic to assume the best–to give them the benefit of the doubt. Usually this is justified, because most people mean well. And in the rare case that someone does try to pull one over on you, how you respond could well have a non-complementary effect.2 (Think back to Julio Diaz, who took his would-be mugger out to dinner.)

  But what if you still get scammed? Psychologist Maria Konnikova talks about this in her fascinating book on professional con artists.3 You might expect her main tip would be to always be on guard. But no. Konnikova, the leading expert on frauds and swindles, comes to a very different conclusion. Far better, she says, is to accept and account for the fact that you’ll occasionally be cheated. That’s a small price to pay for the luxury of a lifetime of trusting other people.

  Most of us feel ashamed when our faith turns out to have been misplaced. But maybe, if you’re a realist, you ought to feel a little proud. In fact, I’d go even farther: if you’ve never been conned, then you should be asking if your basic attitude is trusting enough.

  II: Think in win-win scenarios

  The story goes that Thomas Hobbes was strolling around London with a friend one day when he stopped suddenly to give a beggar some money. His friend was surprised. Hadn’t Hobbes himself said that it’s in our nature to be selfish? The philosopher didn’t see a problem. Witnessing the beggar’s suffering caused Hobbes discomfort, so it felt good to give the man a few coins. Ergo, his action was motivated by self-interest.4

  For the last couple of centuries, philosophers and psychologists have racked their brains over the question whether there is such a thing as pure selflessness. But to be honest, that whole debate doesn’t really interest me. Because just imagine living in a world where you got a sick feeling every time you performed a kind act. What sort of hell would that be?

  The wonderful fact is that we live in a world where doing good also feels good. We like food because without food we’d starve. We like sex because without sex we’d go extinct. We like helping because without each other we’d wither away. Doing good typically feels good because it is good.

  Sadly, untold companies, schools and other institutions are still organised around a myth: that it’s in our nature to be locked in competition with one another. ‘In a great deal you win–not the other side,’ counsels Donald Trump in his book Think Big and Kick Ass. ‘You crush the opponent and come away with something better for yourself.’5

  In truth, this works precisely the other way around. The best deals are those where everybody wins. Those prisons in Norway? They’re better, more humane and less expensive. Jos de Blok’s homecare organisation in Holland? It delivers higher quality at lower cost, pays employees more and leaves both staff and patients more satisfied. These are scenarios where everybody wins.

  In the same vein, the literature on forgiveness emphasises that forgiving others works in our own self-interest.6 It’s not only a gift, but a good deal, because to forgive is to stop wasting your energy on antipathy and grudges. Effectively, you liberate yourself to live. ‘To forgive is to set a prisoner free,’ wrote the theologist Lewis B. Smedes, ‘and discover that the prisoner was you.’7

  III: Ask more questions

  The Golden Rule of virtually every philosophy in world history is some form of: ‘Do not do unto others as you would not have them do unto you.’ This bit of wisdom was already being expounded by the Chinese thinker Confucius two and a half thousand years ago. It turns up again with the Greek historian Herodotus and the philosophy of Plato, and a few centuries later the rule was encoded in Jewish, Christian and Islamic scriptures.

  These days, billions of parents repeat the Golden Rule to their children. It comes in two flavours: the positive injunction (‘Treat others as you wish to be treated’) and the n
egative injunction (‘Do not do unto others what you would not have them…’). Some neurologists even believe the rule is a product of millions of years of human evolution and is programmed into our brains.8

  Even so, I’ve come to believe the Golden Rule falls short. In Chapter 10, we saw that empathy can be a bad guide: the simple fact is we’re not always good at sensing what others want. All those managers, CEOs, journalists and policymakers who think they do are effectively robbing others of their voice. This is why you so seldom see refugees interviewed on TV. This is why our democracy and journalism constitute mostly one-way traffic. And this is why our welfare states are steeped in paternalism.

  Far better would be to start by asking a question. To let citizens have their say, as in the participatory democracy in Porto Alegre (see Chapter 15). To let employees direct their own teams, as in Jean-François Zobrist’s factory (see Chapter 13). To let kids plot their own learning pathways, as in Sjef Drummen’s school (see Chapter 14).

  This variation on the familiar maxim, also known as the ‘Platinum Rule’, was nicely summed up by 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

  IV: Temper your empathy, train your compassion

  The Platinum Rule calls not for empathy, but compassion. To help explain the difference, let me introduce the Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard, a man with a legendary command of his thoughts. (If this appeals to you, I can only say good luck meditating for the 50,000 hours it took him to get there.)

  Not long ago, Ricard was invited by neurologist Tania Singer to spend a morning in her brain scanner.10 Singer wanted to know what happens in our brains when we feel empathy. More important, she wanted to know if there’s an alternative.