Ontology, the philosophical study of “being,” is often presented as an abstract, universal framework for understanding existence. Yet there is a hidden assumption buried in almost all ontological thought: the idea that the human way of perceiving and categorizing reality is not only the default but also the primary perspective. Our philosophical definitions and scientific models are inescapably human-centered in both form and function.
We have never encountered a non-human consciousness capable of debating ontology with us. Without an “other” perspective, it becomes an unspoken truism that our own way of ordering reality is uniquely evolved, sophisticated, and, conveniently, superior. This is a flattering conclusion to reach if you happen to belong to the species making the judgment.
The absence of dissent from any non-human intelligence fosters a kind of epistemological arrogance: a comfort in our conclusions, not because they are objectively correct, but because no one exists who can contradict them. This allows us to avoid wrestling with the deeper implications of our shared human condition.
If human perception constitutes the only known lens for interpreting the universe, then by definition every human perspective is precious, particularly those that differ. Yet we fail to apply this logic consistently.
Instead of uniting around the rare and irreplaceable nature of human subjectivity, we catalog and magnify differences among ourselves. These differences may be cultural, religious, linguistic, or physical. We create labels, boundaries, and identities that serve as gatekeeping tools to exclude those who are perceived as outsiders. Anthropologists describe this as in-group/out-group bias, the tendency to favor people who seem like us and distrust those who do not (Tajfel & Turner, 1986).
History shows that these differences are defended fiercely because they often serve as proxies for control over resources or status. Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu referred to this as the defense of symbolic capital — the intangible prestige attached to belonging to a specific group (Bourdieu, 1986). When symbolic capital feels threatened, exclusionary rules and customs harden, even if doing so undermines long-term cooperation.
Societies sometimes attempt to correct these biases through new customs, ethical frameworks, or legislation. The U.S. civil rights movement, for example, sought to dismantle racial exclusion, yet inequalities in wealth, health, and opportunity persist (Bonilla-Silva, 2010).
One major reason is that equality threatens entrenched advantages. People who benefit from unearned privileges often resist systemic changes that might level the playing field. Political scientists describe this resistance as loss aversion — the tendency to fear losses more than we value equivalent gains (Kahneman & Tversky, 1979). As a result, reforms often yield incomplete and fragile results. Governments get stuck between leaders who deny a need exists and those who focus primarily on minimizing cost rather than maximizing effectiveness.
Meanwhile, needs such as food security, climate stability, and economic equity grow more urgent. Delays in addressing these challenges lead to increasingly expensive solutions. We are, in effect, planting hidden landmines in the path of our own future.
Beneath these systemic failures lies a root cause: xenophobia, or the fear and mistrust of the unfamiliar.
Xenophobia operates on multiple levels:
- Biological: Evolutionary psychologists argue that early humans evolved to detect and avoid unfamiliar individuals who might present danger (Schaller & Neuberg, 2012).
- Cultural: Many societies codify suspicion of outsiders into norms, rituals, and laws.
- Cognitive: Even when legal protections compel tolerance, underlying attitudes often change slowly, if at all.
We may tolerate the presence of those who are different, but this tolerance is usually conditional. It is often enforced by social expectation or legal requirement rather than rooted in genuine acceptance. In public, individuals may adhere to norms that prohibit overt discrimination, while in private they maintain prejudices. This division enables plausible deniability — the ability to perpetuate bias without openly admitting it.
Modern life functions like a moving Faraday cage for perspective: layers of cultural, societal, and institutional requirements dictate acceptable behavior. Compliance is driven more by fear of losing status, access, or privilege than by a belief in fairness. People adapt just enough to maintain their position, but the underlying bias remains unchanged.
This makes xenophobia a strategic tool in the ongoing contest for advantage. Differences are not only noticed but also traded, manipulated, and weaponized. Tragically, the same instincts that helped our ancestors survive now threaten the stability of our interconnected world.
Our perceptual systems evolved to detect difference, particularly when it signaled a threat to resources or reproduction. In prehistoric conditions, this bias could save lives. In the modern era, it risks undermining economies, ecosystems, and even our survival as a species.
From climate change to geopolitical conflict, every major crisis we face is made more difficult by our impulse to split humanity into “us” and “them.” As moral psychologist Jonathan Haidt observed, “Morality binds and blinds” — it binds groups together while blinding them to the humanity of outsiders (Haidt, 2012).
If we cannot learn to override or redirect our deep-seated suspicion of difference, we will continue to edge toward self-destruction, comfortable in the belief that our human perspective is exceptional. It is indeed exceptional, but perhaps only in that we may be the only beings capable of foreseeing our own downfall and still being too tribal to stop it.
The challenge is immense but not insurmountable. We can disrupt xenophobia’s grip through deliberate education in cross-cultural empathy, restructuring institutions to reward cooperation over competition, and investing in media that highlights shared human challenges rather than deepening divides. Social contact across differences, if meaningful and sustained, has been shown to reduce prejudice (Pettigrew & Tropp, 2006).
Our window for change may be narrow. The more global crises accelerate, the more fear drives us inward. Yet the same neuroplasticity that allows humans to learn fear also allows us to unlearn it. The question is whether we will choose the more difficult path of reprogramming ourselves while we still have the time.
The alternative is to remain brilliant and doomed, watching the collapse from atop the hill we fought to claim.
References:
- Bourdieu, P. (1986). The Forms of Capital. In J. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education. Greenwood.
- Bonilla-Silva, E. (2010). Racism Without Racists: Color-Blind Racism and the Persistence of Racial Inequality in America. Rowman & Littlefield.
- Haidt, J. (2012). The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. Pantheon.
- Kahneman, D., & Tversky, A. (1979). Prospect Theory: An Analysis of Decision under Risk. Econometrica, 47(2), 263–291.
- Pettigrew, T. F., & Tropp, L. R. (2006). A Meta-Analytic Test of Intergroup Contact Theory. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 90(5), 751–783.
- Schaller, M., & Neuberg, S. L. (2012). Danger, Disease, and the Nature of Prejudice. Advances in Experimental Social Psychology, 46, 1–54.
- Tajfel, H., & Turner, J. C. (1986). The Social Identity Theory of Intergroup Behavior. In S. Worchel & W. G. Austin (Eds.), Psychology of Intergroup Relations (pp. 7–24). Nelson-Hall.