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Humiliation
1-23-2019
This is the last in a series of columns sparked by the concept of hubris. In Greek the root word of “hubris,” “humility,” and “humiliation” is “humus” which means “earth” or “soil.” Hubris is an attitude of arrogance, of elevating yourself above others and beyond reproach. Humility is the opposite, of lowering and grounding yourself. Humiliation is to be put down; to “eat dirt.” Unlike shame which involves a sense of doing wrong, humiliation leads to a strong sense of having been wronged. It undermines dignity, strips away pride, and forecloses hope.
Psychologist Neel Burton talks about how humiliation deals such deadly blows. He explains: “We all make certain status claims, however modest they may be, for instance, ‘I am a competent teacher’, ‘I am a good mother’, or ‘I am a beloved spouse.’ When we are merely embarrassed, our status claims are not undermined—or if they are, they are easily recovered. But when we are humiliated, our status claims cannot so easily be recovered because, in this case, our very authority to make status claims has been called into question.” Humiliation bars you from claiming status and brands you as a pretender, an interloper, someone incapable of belonging not because of the behaviours you engage in, but because of who you are as a person. Humiliation does not rely solely on violence or coercion. A person can be humiliated through passive means such as being ignored, rejected, or betrayed. Philosopher Immanuel Kant argued that human beings are ends-in-themselves. To humiliate is to treat someone as less than an end-in-him or herself, to deny their very humanity.
Humiliation cuts to the core and leaves you broken and abandoned. At its worse, humiliation has been called “soul murder.” Jean Ame´ry writes that when humiliated “a part of your life ends, and it can never be revived. Trust in the world is lost, never to be fully regained.” He goes on to explain that “the loneliness of the victim is at the heart of humiliation; the victim is alone, excluded from the past he wants to return to, the society he believed he belonged to, and the future he expected would be his.” Ame´ry states the “likely consequences of humiliation are a sense of permanent loss and feelings of impotence, frustrated rage, despair and a foul thirst for revenge.”
Medical doctor and psychologist Evelin Linder reinforces Ame´ry’s view. Her research concludes that there are three possible outcomes to the effects of humiliation: 1) acquiescence that leads to depression and apathy; 2) antagonism, anger, and violent pursuit of change; 3) antagonism, anger and non-violent pursuit of change, including forgiveness and reconciliation. In society today, avenue number one all too often ends in suicide and path number two fuels the growing number of mass shootings and ramming vehicles into crowds. Peace lies in number three, but non-violent rage is an oxymoron – something I have trouble comprehending. Peaceful marches may feel good in the moment, but they are slow to enact real change. Protests disintegrate into riots, impeding progress.
Obviously, the less we personally engage in cutting down one another, the better for everyone. Humiliation has been found to serve no adaptive function and yet somehow it thrives in modern society. If only we each refused to engage in humiliation the problem would disappear. But like Ame´ry, I’ve lost too many pieces of trust in the world to believe prevention is a reliable option. I take some comfort in the words of writer Phil Leask. He suggests the salve to heal humiliation is simply to mourn. To grieve what is lost – the loss of self-esteem, status, wholeness, belonging, pride, and the possibility of a future where there could be safety and mutual trust. When a loved one dies we return them to the earth. Remember, the word “humiliation” springs from the word for “earth.” Maybe there is an answer hidden within this etymology. Instead of burying our humiliation in the inner recesses of our mind where it festers and becomes despair or the “foul thirst of revenge,” perhaps we need to remember how to mourn the “soul murder” of humiliation. If we don’t, we’ll surely continue to be caught in the cycle of mourning those lost through suicide and murderous rampages by those whose dignity has been stolen, pride stripped away, and hope foreclosed upon by humiliation.
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