Introduction
Some people support cruelty even when it violates their own values. This piece explores how trauma, shame, loneliness, and resentment entangle people in extremist beliefs—and how we might respond with both clarity and compassion.
Brief summary
We don’t change people’s minds by proving them wrong—we change the field they’re living in. That means fostering spaces where shame can be held, dignity restored, and belonging no longer bought through betrayal. But not everyone wants to come home.
Introduction: When Conviction Masks Collapse
We’ve all watched someone we once trusted defend the indefensible. Not with reason—but with rage. Not with moral clarity—but with moral inversion. They speak with conviction, but underneath is collapse.
This isn’t new. Power-hungry figures have always risen during times of dislocation, gathering those whose identities feel fragile or whose pain remains unmet. They don’t win people over with truth. They win them by relieving discomfort—by offering a scapegoat, a tribe, a story that turns shame into righteousness.
What follows is not a strategy for argument. It’s a reflection on how people get caught—and how a few might return.
I. What Pulls People In: The Emotional Architecture of Extremism
1. Trauma Craves Coherence
When someone has lived through chaos—neglect, betrayal, financial collapse, cultural loss—the nervous system starts craving simplicity. Extremism offers relief.
- Binary moral frames (good/evil, us/them) regulate anxiety.
- A narcissistic leader becomes the organizing principle: Follow me, and nothing will hurt again.
- Complexity feels dangerous. Certainty feels safe—even when it’s false.
In this way, extremism is not always an ideology. It’s an emotional survival structure.
2. Shame Distorts Identity
Many people support cruelty because to admit otherwise would mean facing the truth: they’ve already crossed the line.
- Shame creates identity rigidity. It says: If I was wrong, then I am bad.
- So instead of confronting this, people double down. They defend what they once opposed, protecting coherence over integrity.
- Shame is not guilt. It doesn’t say “I did something wrong.” It says, “I am wrong.” And that’s unbearable.
To heal shame, we must make space for contradiction without collapse.
3. Belonging Is Sometimes Found in the Worst Places
People who’ve felt unseen—by family, community, or culture—are often vulnerable to groups that offer instant belonging.
- Extremist movements often mirror the structure of religious or military groups: tight hierarchy, group rituals, clear in/out roles.
- For some, it’s the first time they’ve been called by name.
- Once that bond forms, loyalty becomes a form of survival.
This is why facts don’t work. You’re not confronting an idea—you’re threatening their access to belonging.
4. Fear Masquerades as Morality
Hatred is often the external face of internal terror.
- Racism, xenophobia, religious extremism—these are not just beliefs. They’re defense systems.
- By scapegoating the “other,” people avoid confronting their own vulnerability.
- Leaders exploit this by naming an enemy and promising protection. It works—because the fear was already there.
Phobia gets dressed in moral language, but its engine is fear.
5. Most People Were Never Taught to Think
Critical thinking is a learned skill—one that requires safety, mentorship, and time.
- Many were raised in systems where questioning was punished.
- The current media landscape trades in rage and confirmation bias.
- Without internal tools to evaluate fallacy, conspiracy becomes compelling.
We must remember: ignorance isn’t always willful. Sometimes it’s inherited. Systems must protect us from exploitation.
II. Why They Stay: The Psychology of Post-Betrayal Loyalty
At some point, most people who fall into ideological extremism cross a line they cannot uncross. They say something cruel. They vote against their values. They hurt someone they love. And now they face an impossible choice:
Admit the betrayal, or protect the story.
For many, shame is stronger than truth. The need to believe I’m still a good person becomes more important than doing the right thing.
This is where change becomes least likely—and where gentle, relational contact is most needed.
III. The Remedy: Humility, Community, and the Capacity to Stay
1. Humility Is Not Weakness—It’s Capacity
True humility is not submission. It is strength. It is the willingness to change one’s mind without losing one’s self.
We must model this:
- Change your position in public.
- Admit what you once believed.
- Let others see you wrestle—not just perform conviction.
People do not return from extremism because we outsmart them. They return when we make it safe to come back.
2. Resilience in the Face of Shame
For those who can feel their contradiction, we must help them stay in the fire.
- Shame resilience is the capacity to stay present while reckoning with harm.
- It involves narrative repair, somatic regulation, and the slow reweaving of identity.
- Most importantly, it requires relationship—not rescue, but presence.
You cannot walk someone out of their shame. But you can sit near them long enough for them to remember who they were.
3. Rebuilding Belonging Through Culture
If someone leaves a cult, they need somewhere to land. Not just ideologically—but emotionally, creatively, and physically.
That means:
- Shared meals that feel sacred, not performative.
- Community arts projects where voices can be re-humanized.
- Multigenerational spaces where contribution—not belief—is the currency.
People can’t heal in isolation. The antidote to false belonging is not argument—it’s art, food, laughter, shared life.
4. Speak to the Exiled Self
The part of them that believed in dignity? It’s still there. It’s just buried.
Speak to it:
- “I remember how much you used to care about justice.”
- “It sounds like part of you still feels lonely, even here.”
- “Does this version of you feel like who you really are?”
Don’t confront the persona. Invite the person behind it.
IV. When I Want to Shame Them Instead
Let me name my own contradiction.
I don’t always want to meet them with compassion. I want to call them out. To highlight their hypocrisy. To expose their cowardice.
I want them to feel what I feel: the grief, the betrayal, the rage.
But I know where that path leads. Shame can only deepen what it tries to correct. I don’t want to replicate the very structure I’m resisting. I don’t want to become another voice in the chorus telling someone they’re not human enough to come home.
So I do my work. I breathe. I pause. And when I can, I choose contact over contempt.
V. This Strategy Isn’t for Everyone
This is not a universal remedy. Some people do not want to come back.
1. The Narcissist and the Sociopath
- Narcissists cannot metabolize shame in a relational way.
- Sociopathic leaders exploit compassion for power.
- Engaging these people invites manipulation, not dialogue.
They do not need empathy. They need accountability.
2. The Performative Loyalist
- Some individuals become so fused with ideology that contradiction feels like violence.
- They are not thinking. They are performing.
- At this stage, reasoning fails—not because they’re too far gone, but because there’s no room for self-reflection.
3. And Then There Are the Authentic misogynists – Authentic bullies – authentic tribalists
This group is often missed in psychological models. They are not lost, confused, or secretly ashamed. They are angry—because the world is no longer centered around their preferences.
- They resent that they can’t say the things they used to.
- They call empathy weakness and treat care as an insult.
- Sometimes, they sincerely believe in hierarchy—and they’re fighting to preserve it.
This isn’t trauma. It’s entitlement. While change is always possible, it’s rarely invited through dialogue. These individuals typically respond only to consequence—not contact.
In these cases, our work is not persuasion. It’s protection of values and boundaries.
VI. Conclusion: Walking the Edge Between Truth and Grace
To reach someone caught in extremism is to hold paradox:
- Compassion without enabling.
- Truth without superiority.
- Humility without collapse.
- Boundaries without hatred.
You will not reach everyone. That’s not the point. What matters is who you become in the process. Because every time you choose to stay human while confronting dehumanization—you make something sacred possible.
Not everyone will come home. But some will.
And that is enough.
