The Origins of Hatred

Hatred feels like it’s everywhere these days. It’s erupting across countries, communities, and causes — whether it’s resentment toward Whites in South Africa, the relentless fury over Gaza, backlash against anything connected to Tesla, or the media’s obsessive vilification of Donald Trump. Politics, religion, race, climate, abortion — you name it, and someone’s ready to rage about it.

Sure, we’ve seen violent protests before — the Watts riots in ’65, the upheaval after Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination in ’68, the Rodney King riots in ’92. But those flashpoints were spread out over decades. Today? Violent protests feel constant, and the anger’s coming from every direction. These aren’t just crowds waving signs; we’re watching groups turn to chaos and destruction, convinced their cause matters so much that violence is not only justified — it’s necessary.

It’s alarming how casually some now treat violence as a political weapon. Smash a Tesla dealership? Fine. Call for the assassination of Elon Musk or Donald Trump? Some won’t even flinch.

And it’s left me wondering: Where does all this hatred come from? Why does it seem worse now? What sparks it — and what keeps it alive?

So, I asked ChatGPT. And what I found was fascinating. The first thing that came up? The evolutionary roots of hatred.

Here’s what it said:

Evolutionary

Origins of Hatred

From an evolutionary standpoint, emotions are not random but serve specific survival functions. Hatred, though often viewed as negative, has likely played a crucial role in human survival. It can be understood as an extreme form of in-group preference and out-group hostility—mechanisms that have historically helped human groups compete for resources and maintain social cohesion.

In-group preference and out-group hostility. Now that starts to connect the dots. In-group preference means you instinctively favor your own group — seeing it as essential to your identity, safety, and survival. Then comes out-group hostility, where anyone outside that circle isn’t just different, but a potential threat. ChatGPT went on:

1. Group Selection and Tribalism

One of the most widely accepted evolutionary explanations for hatred is that it emerged from early human tribalism. Our ancestors lived in small groups where cooperation among members was vital for survival. Those who exhibited strong loyalty to their group and hostility toward outsiders were more likely to protect their resources, defend against threats, and ensure the group's survival. This tendency remains evident today in nationalistic, religious, and ideological divisions.

2. Competition for Resources

Scarcity of resources often leads to intergroup conflict. Evolutionarily, groups that could effectively identify and eliminate threats to their survival had a greater chance of thriving. Hatred provided the psychological fuel for such conflicts, making it easier for individuals to dehumanize their enemies and act aggressively.

Aha! So it turns out the evolution of hatred is deeply rooted in competition between groups for resources. In early human history, survival wasn’t guaranteed — and if your group didn’t outcompete a rival, you might not make it. They could take your food, land, animals… or women.

And yes, there’s plenty of evidence suggesting one primal fear was that rival groups would raid camps and steal women. Why? Because women were valued for their reproductive ability. The more women a group had, the greater its chances of producing offspring and increasing its numbers. Too few, and the group was doomed.

As a result, men were prized for their fierceness — their willingness to fight, protect, and kill if necessary. Some research even suggests the more intruders a man killed, the more desirable he became as a mate within his group. (for details see David Geary’s Male Female: The Evolution of Human Sex Differences chap 8) Which might help explain why, even today, certain women are inexplicably drawn to violent men, including infamous serial killers behind bars.

What we’re seeing is that hatred didn’t appear out of thin air — it was born out of primal fears: not having enough food, water, shelter, or reproductive partners. And those fears naturally bred suspicion and hostility toward outsiders, who were seen as the problem.

And according to ChatGPT, there’s even more to this story…

3. Survival Mechanism Against Threats

Hatred may have also evolved as a defense mechanism against perceived threats. When early humans encountered dangerous rivals, predators, or hostile groups, a strong aversive reaction would have been advantageous. This ingrained mechanism still influences modern social dynamics, where perceived threats—whether economic, cultural, or political—can trigger deep-seated animosity.

It’s become clear that hatred first evolved as a response to perceived threats — from predators, rival groups, or anyone endangering essential resources and survival. But what about the personal, psychological side of hatred? Why do people harbor hatred even when their survival isn’t on the line?

That’s where the second part of ChatGPT’s explanation comes into play.

Psychological Creation of Hatred

While evolutionary factors set the foundation for hatred, psychological mechanisms shape its expression in individuals. Hatred is rarely innate; rather, it develops through experiences, learned behaviors, and cognitive processes.

1. Socialization and Cultural Influence

Children are not born with hatred; they learn it through socialization. Parents, peers, and societal norms play significant roles in shaping attitudes toward different groups. If a child grows up in an environment where a particular group is demonized, they are more likely to develop hatred toward that group. The media, political rhetoric, and historical narratives further reinforce these beliefs.

Children aren’t born with hatred. It sounds like an obvious statement, but it’s an important one. Hatred isn’t something that naturally exists in a baby or young child — it has to be introduced. For a child to feel hatred, something or someone has to plant that fearful seed.

2. Personal Trauma and Projection

Hatred can also arise from personal experiences. If an individual suffers harm at the hands of a particular person or group, they may generalize that negative experience to all members of that group. This process, known as projection, allows the individual to externalize their pain and blame others for their suffering.

3. Cognitive Biases and Stereotyping

Human cognition is prone to biases that reinforce hatred. The confirmation bias leads people to seek out information that supports their preexisting views, while the out-group homogeneity effect causes individuals to perceive members of an opposing group as more similar than they actually are. These cognitive distortions make it easier to sustain hatred over time.

Conclusion

So where does all this hatred come from? Strip it down, and you’ll find the same thing at its core every time: fear. Fear is the fuel. Without it, the hostility, the out-group aggression, the calls for destruction wouldn’t carry the same weight. It’s fear that ignites those ancient instincts and gives modern hatred its relentless, suffocating power.

And what does that tell us about today’s world? It tells us we’re living in a culture saturated with fear. If someone wanted to fracture a society, to turn one group against another, they wouldn’t need armies or violence at first. They’d just need to instill fear. Fear of losing resources, fear of losing status, fear of “the other.” Feed that fear with a steady stream of distrust, blame, and moral certainty — and you’ve got a society primed for conflict.

Sound familiar? It should.

We’re watching it unfold in real time. The media floods the public square with fear: threats to democracy, creeping totalitarianism, climate catastrophe, pandemic xxx, cultural collapse. But notice what’s absent — no one calls for patience, forgiveness, or mutual understanding. Very few tell both sides of any story. The message is clear: be afraid, stay angry, and pick a side.

And this strategy isn’t new. It’s been building for decades. One of the clearest, most persistent examples is how modern feminism — with the eager backing of media, academia, the judiciary, and legislative power — has relentlessly seeded fear, distrust, and blame into the minds of women and girls. Fear of men. Fear of oppression. Fear of being cheated. Fear of irrelevance. The result? A divided society where mutual respect erodes, and hatred becomes not only acceptable but fashionable — so long as it targets the approved enemy.

 

Understanding the evolutionary and psychological roots of hatred matters. But recognizing how fear is weaponized today is even more urgent. Because hatred isn’t some unstoppable force of nature. It’s a reaction. And like all reactions, it depends on what we choose to feed it.

In part two we will take a look at how feminism has spread fears that fostered the hatred of men.

A Survival Guide for Men in Couples Therapy - part one

When men enter couples therapy with their wives or significant female partners, it often feels like stepping into foreign territory. The dynamics can be confusing, the language unfamiliar, and it can seem like their needs are far less addressed than those of their partners. Many men feel "out of place."

The first section of this article serves as a primer for men, helping explain why they might feel this way. The second half offers practical ideas and tips for getting the most out of the experience. It’s worth noting that about 1 in 5 men are likely to feel more at home in the typical couples therapy environment due to biological and temperamental factors—and about 1 in 5 women might more closely resemble the typical male experience. When this article refers to “men,” it’s addressing that 80% majority of men (and that 20% of women who are similar).

Bottom line? We’re all different, but if you’re a man—or a woman trying to understand one—this article might be useful. (For more on these differences, see my book The Way Men Heal on Amazon.)

1. Why Is Couples Therapy Hard for Men?

A Different Style of Processing

The idea of sitting face-to-face and talking about emotions and hurt is foreign to many men. They might be more comfortable addressing difficult topics while doing something side-by-side—like playing a game of basketball or golfing—rather than sitting across from someone in a therapist’s office. But that’s not how couples therapy is set up, and this mismatch is just one of many reasons men may find the experience challenging.

Language Barriers

Couples therapy has its own language—a language most women speak fluently, but most men do not. This imbalance can deeply affect the process.

Imagine visiting France: your wife speaks fluent French, and you only know a little. A local invites you to his table for conversation. Who’s he going to talk to? Naturally, your wife. You’re left relying on translations and educated guesses. You probably won’t be judged harshly for your lack of fluency, but you’ll still feel like an outsider.

Now picture couples therapy. Your wife and the therapist are fluent in the language of feelings—you’re not. But in therapy, unlike France, you are likely to be judged. Not knowing this language can lead to assumptions: that you’re emotionally immature, cold, uncaring, or resistant. Many therapists believe men should be fluent in emotional expression and that it’s just a matter of effort.

“Just try a little harder, honey. It’s not that hard.”

What these therapists often don’t realize is that male biology plays a role. Men’s brains are more geared toward systems and action than emotional articulation. There’s even evidence that testosterone can impair verbal emotional expression, even when the feelings are present. Men often process emotions differently—but those differences are rarely acknowledged or respected in therapy. Instead, men’s unique approaches are often misinterpreted as deficiencies.

The Fluency Bond

This fluency gap also affects how alliances form in therapy. Just like at that French dinner, you rely on your wife to "translate" or mediate, but in therapy, your interests may be in conflict with hers. She may not be motivated to give you a fair translation. In fact, she might use her emotional fluency to bolster her position and cast you as the problem.

 

Details, Memory, and the Scorecard

Another challenge for men is how women tend to remember relationship details with far greater precision. Your wife may recall the time in 2007 when you called her fat—but you don’t. In therapy, she can quickly list a long series of your alleged missteps, while you’re still trying to figure out if what she said even happened.

Why is this? Maybe men treat relational upsets like fishing—if the fish is too small, you throw it back and move on. Men don’t tend to keep score. Women often do. So when therapy starts, she brings a bucket of old hurts. You bring nothing. It can feel like you have no case.

Could it be that men let go of the small stuff out of forgiveness or practicality, while women store it up to make a case? Maybe. You be the judge. (Your mileage may vary.)

Avoiding Men’s Emotional Pain

Another critical factor is the cultural discomfort with male emotional pain. In our society, a man’s tears often evoke suspicion—while a woman’s tears inspire compassion and action. Men know this. That’s why most avoid public vulnerability. They’re not dumb.

This bias shows up in therapy too. I’ve seen cases where a man had just experienced major surgery, the death of a parent, and job loss—all in one month—and yet the session focused on why he hadn’t been more attentive to his wife’s emotional needs.

Therapists—especially female ones—may simply relate more naturally to the woman’s experience and overlook the man’s pain. If that happens, the man walks away feeling invisible, bewildered, and alone.

2. The Role of Traditional Sex Roles

Traditional male roles emphasize providing and protecting—especially for a spouse. Women’s traditional roles focus on nurturing children and maintaining the home. In this model, her happiness depends on his performance, but not the other way around. He’s judged on how well he provides and protects. She’s rarely judged on how she treats him. His needs? No one’s responsibility but his own.

This dynamic plays out in therapy. Her needs become the agenda. His needs are secondary—if addressed at all. It’s not just the therapist; many men don’t even think to bring up their own needs. They’re conditioned to care for others, not themselves.

Independence vs. Vulnerability

The male role of provider and protector requires independence. Dependency and neediness are seen as weaknesses. Yet in therapy, men are asked to reveal vulnerabilities, admit struggles, and show emotional need. That’s a 180-degree turn from how they’re wired and socialized.

Imagine asking a woman to speak in a way that shows she’s not nurturing and caring. Would that be easy for her? Probably not. And yet we expect men to do the emotional equivalent without blinking. It’s time we showed more compassion for the bind men are placed in.

 

Therapy Is a Feminine Space

Therapy has evolved to be female-friendly—for the simple reason that women are the ones who tend to show up. The currency of therapy is emotional care and connection—more aligned with feminine norms than masculine ones, which emphasize respect, autonomy, and honor.

In therapy, the woman often claims, “He doesn’t care about me,” then lists examples of his supposed indifference. The therapist helps her unpack her pain. The man, meanwhile, scrambles to defend himself against the accusations and rarely gets to voice his own needs or perspective. He’s too busy putting out fires.

This dynamic reinforces a centuries-old pattern: women voice needs and complaints, men respond. He’s expected to improve. She’s expected to be heard.

The "Yelling" Trap

Another common issue is volume. Men and women often have very different thresholds for what counts as yelling. Two men might have an energetic, respectful argument—but if that same tone is used with a wife, she may accuse him of yelling.

He says, “I’m not yelling.” And objectively, he might be right. But remember—therapy operates by different rules. Feminine rules.

This accusation of yelling can be weaponized. When a man is making a valid point that’s hard to refute, shifting the focus to his "tone" or "volume" derails the discussion. Suddenly, the conversation is about her pain and his supposed insensitivity—not the issue he raised. This leaves him feeling ambushed, powerless, and unheard. And conveniently, it lets her off the hook.

If you’ve read this far, you already know: men face an uphill climb in couples therapy. The structure, language, and expectations often don't align with male psychology or experience. But understanding these dynamics is the first step toward navigating them—and maybe even shifting the conversation.