Humankind: A Hopeful History

In June 1965, six teenage schoolboys, marooned for fifteen months on a small, deserted Pacific island, did not degenerate Lord of the Flies style into brutal aggression, but made a pact never to quarrel, fended admirably for themselves, and were in peak condition when rescued. This is one of several myth-busting stories in Humankind to support the 'radical idea', "That most people, deep down, are pretty decent". (p2)

Young Dutch journalist Rutger Bregman employs a personal, somewhat conversational style, making reading easy. Not rigorously academic, the work is nevertheless thoroughly researched and well referenced, Bregman even travelling to Australia to interview key informants. Developing the central theme he writes that bombing – during the London blitz, or in Vietnam – far from demoralising people, strengthens their resolve and encourages co-operation (Prologue); that in battle, "Most soldiers never fire their guns" (p. 80); and, just as Columbus found the inhabitants of the Bahamas peaceful and entirely ignorant of weapons, so in 1945 were nonviolent people, totally abhorrent of bloodshed, revealed on Ifalik Island (p. 94). Further, the story of Easter Island is, on close investigation, "Of a resourceful and resilient people… not a tale of impending doom, but a well-spring of hope" (p. 134); Zimbardo's notorious Stanford Prison Experiment deliberately and fraudulently turned, "A scientific experiment into a staged production" (Ch 7); Milgram's 'shock machine' subjects were brutally coerced into using high voltage settings, causing lasting psychological trauma to some (Ch 8); and finally, a woman attacked at night in 1960s New York was not ignored by 38 bystanders, and did not die alone. (Ch 9) In response, Bregman writes, "How out of whack our view of human nature often is; how deftly journalists push those buttons to sell sensational stories; and how it is precisely in emergencies that we can count on one another". (p. 194)

Nevertheless, he says, "In nearly every country, most people think most other people can't be trusted" (p. 12), possibly through over-exposure to 'news', designed less to inform than to grab attention. Bregman then pits Hobbes against Rousseau, and takes us through human evolution to show that, "Although struggle and competition clearly factor… co-operation is much more critical". (p. 72) Then he describes the 'fatal flaw' that, as social animals, "We feel more affinity for people like us", (p. 74) and so make multiple enemies and seek to cause them harm.

Explaining what went wrong, Bregman suggests, "The advent of (the first large) settlements and private property… ushered in a new age… The 1 per cent began oppressing the 99 per cent, and smooth talkers ascended from commanders to generals and from chieftains to kings." (p. 102) He is strong but necessarily sketchy through limited space on the history of human social development, admitting the good points of 'civilisation' while cautioning that, "Genuine progress (benefiting humanity) is a very recent phenomenon". (p. 110)

In Chapter 10 ('How Empathy Blinds'), the fallacious assumption that enemies are bad people is exposed, and the truth – "Our enemies are just like us" – is examined favourably; even terrorists, for whom, "Religion is an afterthought… They kill and die for each other… They (feel) part of something bigger, that their lives finally (hold) meaning". "This is no excuse for their crimes", adds Bregman. "It's an explanation" (pp. 208-9), part of which is that their leaders are war criminals, power-hungry, paranoid narcissists. (p. 221) A parallel is then drawn in Chapter 11 ('How Power Corrupts') with some corporation bosses exhibiting similar characteristics, Bregman saying, "Power is like a drug... It appears to work like an anaesthetic that makes you insensate to other people". (p227-8) Chapter 12 ('What the Enlightenment Got Wrong'), tells of a principle from the early seventeenth century; false but increasingly influential, central to the rise of capitalism, democracy and the rule of law: that people are basically selfish. The decline of religion is also said to contribute towards more cynical prevailing attitudes: "God lost his job to the bureaucrats". (p. 247)

The Chapters in Parts Four ('A New Realism') and Five ('The Other Cheek') address questions like, "What if (society's institutions) expected the best of people instead of presuming the worst?" (p. 250) Chapter 13 tells of the trusting and liberal management-style behind a highly successful Dutch healthcare organisation (pp. 272-3). Chapter 14 is about children, education, and the need for risky play to promote physical and mental wellbeing. Chapter 15 offers a critique of 'democracy', which risks suppressing people's constructive capabilities and conscientious nature.

Bregman asserts that society need not be so negative. Chapter 16 ('Drinking Tea with Terrorists') tells of the remarkably humane Norwegian prison system that saves money through properly rehabilitated ex-convicts committing fewer crimes; and, in Denmark, would-be terrorists offered tea and a mentor deciding against going to Syria to fight. Chapter 17 ('The Best Remedy for Hate, Injustice and Prejudice'), uses the example of South Africa's avoidance of bloodshed at the ending of apartheid, describing how, when people from opposing sides are put together for long enough, they develop mutual respect. Chapter 18 ('When the Soldiers Came Out of the Trenches') retells the WW1 Christmas story of 1914, reinforcing the message that people are not intrinsically hostile.

Finally, in the Epilogue, Bregman offers ten rules to live by, "Based on what I've learned over the past few years". (pp. 382 - 397) His recommendations are worth considering, but this section is not as convincing. For example, Bregman gave up meditating because, "There's always another email... or another video of a goat on a trampoline demanding immediate attention", seeming thus to be caught in the very trap he's at such pains to warn others to avoid. By introducing an element of timelessness into one's life, meditation does not take time; it gives you time. Importantly, too, in the context of this discussion, it enhances discernment.

Serious-minded readers might object to the anecdotal style of Humankind, which itself predicts a dismissive, doubting, even cynical reaction from many. It would be a mistake, though, not to embrace it as a timely gift. The pandemic, visiting the world during a threatening period of global destabilisation, offers an unparalleled invitation and opportunity for people, as individuals and collectively, to reflect sincerely upon their values, ambitions, philosophies, plans and priorities. There could hardly, in 2020, be published a more appropriate and useful book.