It’s one thing to harbor a bias for established wisdom when it comes to subjects like acupuncture, art, or torture that don’t directly impact our lives all that much. But our motivation to conform is so powerful that it prompts us to accept established systems or regimes that do affect us, and indeed, that oppress us. As a presidential candidate in 2015, Donald Trump expressed disdain for Mexican immigrants, saying, “When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending their best. They’re sending people that have a lot of problems . . . They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” You’d think Hispanic Americans hearing that would be appalled (especially since 76 percent of Hispanics are Mexican), but they weren’t. Over a quarter of them agreed with Trump’s statement.
A survey of 6,637 randomly selected adults in America found that 33 percent of Black people reported being treated no worse than Whites by the criminal justice system. This sounds reasonable—until you consider that America’s criminal justice system has a long, sordid history of discrimination against Black people, and that it stands today as perhaps the clearest modern example of institutionalized racism. According to forty years of nonpartisan data from the U.S. Department of Justice, Black adults are almost six times more likely to be imprisoned than Whites. Despite representing only 13 percent of the population, Black people account for more than 33 percent of state and federal prisoners. And yet, 41 percent of Black people polled in 2001 said they are treated identically to White people, or that Whites are the ones treated unfairly. Surveys fielded since have produced similar findings.
If you’re tempted to disparage Black and Hispanic people for dismissing a system that oppresses them, do me a favor and pay close attention to the psychological biases discussed here. We all tend to support systems in which we function, even if those systems harm us. Since its inception, the discipline of psychology has struggled to explain this tendency. Professors John Jost of New York University and Harvard’s Mahzarin Banaji have led the way by propounding a theory of system justification. As they’ve observed, people feel internally conflicted when the systems of which they’re a part treat them indifferently or oppressively. People will go to bizarre lengths to rationalize and protect a social system that harms them. Disadvantaged people often do just as much (or more) to affirm a system’s validity than those who occupy privileged positions within the same system.
As Dr. Chuma Owuamalam at the University of Nottingham explained, rejecting an entire system is a big deal, a step that often goes too far even for the most disadvantaged people existing within it. “The alternative to accepting a social system is to reject it,” Owuamalam wrote. “In most cases, such a rejection is likely to be regarded as being unrealistic because it implies a revolution and anarchy that could invoke much greater uncertainty and threat than the alternative of dealing with dissonance. Hence, people who are invested in their group identities and interests may choose to explore all options before considering the revolutionary role of system rejection.” Citizens with ties to Mexico, targeted in Donald Trump’s comments, want to believe that home in the United States is a place where they feel safe, secure, and a sense of dignity. Once you have family, friends, and perhaps a job, leaving the United States is not a simple, realistic option. A strong dependency on the system leads numerical minorities in a society to respect the status quo and even accept principles, norms, and rules that oppress or harm them.
Over the past quarter century, psychologists have produced a large body of research supporting system justification theory, shedding light on our tendency to uphold and support oppressive systems. It turns out that a slew of rational and nonrational impulses lead to our continued loyalty to standard, long-standing practices when better alternatives might exist. For the sake of brevity, I’ve teased out from the literature some key mechanisms that induce us to conform much of the time.
THE BIG IDEA
Four psychological “boosters” fuel voluntary conformity on our part.
1. We Feel Reassured by the Status Quo’s Familiarity
We like to believe we retain personal control over our lives. We want to feel a sense of agency, deciding what happens to us as opposed to existing as pawns pushed and pulled by outside forces. Hurricanes, terrorist attacks, and other crises shake our confidence in a predictable, stable world. Even in “normal” life, so much lies beyond our influence. When your fellow passenger on a packed flight starts coughing violently while eating a pungent peanut butter and raw onion sandwich, there’s not much you can do. Mother Nature, bad highway drivers, your next-door neighbor’s membership in the douchebag hall of fame, mistakes you’ve made in the past, anything that’s happened in the past—you can’t control any of this.
Deprived of control, we tend to take comfort in the familiar, well-understood parts of our lives because they offer a sense of stability and security. Hence we show relatively little resistance to existing systems such as governments, religions, and corporations, even those that might oppress us. In one study, researchers prompted a group of participants to feel temporarily disempowered by asking them to reflect on a particular incident in the past when they lacked control. Another group of participants received instructions to imagine a future where uncontrollable incidents happen—they, too, came to feel temporarily disempowered. Researchers then gauged participants’ willingness to defend the existing society and its accomplishments or argue that the system was flawed and required an overhaul. Compared with a control group, participants who felt a loss in personal control were more willing to defend the existing society and its accomplishments. Researchers noted a 20 percent increased willingness to defend the establishment.
In the search for a coherent, sensible system, we often accept harmful consequences rather than wade through feelings of uncertainty. When we feel impotent, we don’t just support leaders who promise law and order. We try to surround ourselves with people who uphold the system against critical detractors. We seek to affirm our fundamental belief that the world is progressing just fine and that we thus need not remove authority figures nor challenge existing norms.
2. In the Face of Systemic Threats, We Salute
On September 10, 2001, President George W. Bush held a job approval rating of 51 percent, with 38 percent of Americans saying they disapproved of the way he was handling his job. Just two weeks later, in the wake of the 9/11 attacks, Bush’s job approval rose to 90 percent, the highest level of presidential support recorded since Gallup began tracking data in the 1930s. It remained high for a full two years before tumbling back to where it had been. Conservatives extended an already high level of support for a conservative president, while liberals showed an appreciation for policies that ran counter to their own value system.
Events that jeopardize the survival of a group on which we depend tend to motivate a defensive reaction. Our initial impulse is to protect what we care about, especially if the perpetrator of the attack is an outsider. Few elements are more effective at bringing people together than a common nemesis. We become upset at the outsider. We share our dismay with other group members. And we support the powers that be inside the system. Rallying behind a system under siege feels like a worthy cause. Even if we feel ambivalent, there’s a time and a place to criticize, and this isn’t it. Now we’re in Proud Defender mode. Love it or leave it, baby.
Authorities and organizations often intentionally evoke symbolic links to powerful, dominant belief systems as a means of sustaining legitimacy. They know people swept by patriotic fervor will easily forget that the system they are justifying is the same one that has been depriving and harming them. The presence of threats to the system and our identity-based reactions to them goes a long way toward explaining why human beings favor the status quo, including the very organizations that compromise our well-being.
3. We Feel Dependent on the Status Quo
If you’ve served any time in prison you know the chances of survival go way up if you’re affiliated with a gang. Stand next to a pack of people wearing the right colors or bearing the right tattoos, and other potentially murderous prisoners will identify you with the gang. You’ll enjoy enough protection to walk fearlessly through the dining halls and outdoor yards. You might even lie in bed at night untouched instead of suffering at the hands of another inmate. By joining that gang, you’ve entered into a dependent relationship with the group and will feel hesitant to voice concerns about its rules, hierarchy, and leadership. The gang is keeping you alive and safe. Your fellow gang members might treat you like crap, but it’s better than getting killed or raped. And over time, that gang becomes part of your identity. You’re no longer just a person. You’re a member.
The deal with the devil we strike in prison doesn’t differ all that much from those we strike with other existing hierarchies in our lives. We rally behind the status quo because the group of which we’re a part satisfies our basic needs to feel understood, validated, and competent. Because we identify with the group, we no longer have to think for ourselves all the time: knowing what high-ranking members of the group prefer makes it easy to select what to wear, what music to listen to, what beliefs to hold, what politicians to support, and so on. Our sense of belonging comforts us because we know that our fellow group members will show us favoritism over outsiders when we need it.
As research has found, people are willing to sacrifice material payoffs to feel connected with powerful authority figures. Individuals who are poor, who lack education, and who live in crime-ridden neighborhoods will vote against their own self-interests and fight against economic redistribution if they identify strongly with the nation and its power. Perceiving the country as a direct extension of their own identity, they willingly forgo their own self-interest because their attachment to the country serves other needs, providing a sense of security, safety, and belonging as well as a stable sense of meaning. You remind yourself that this is your country, and it’s far better than living in countries you view as inferior. You can justify corruption as a few bad characters in a system that, if operated as intended, would be the best imaginable. What could be more American than feeling discontent while plastering on a goofy smile?
Researchers find that conformity intensifies as people become more dependent on a system. In Malaysia, the authorities regularly mistreat the country’s Chinese minorities. Because members of this minority are successful economically, the Malaysian government reserves college scholarships for Malays only, not Chinese. Thanks to government-mandated quotas, colleges only allocate a small number of slots to Chinese citizens. Government loans exist for buying houses and starting businesses, but many are reserved for Malays, not the Chinese minority. If you are Chinese and fortunate enough to secure a loan, expect to pay a premium rate.
You’d expect the Chinese minority to be pretty pissed off. Not so. In one study, Dr. Owuamalam had Chinese adults in Malaysia reflect on their government-sponsored disadvantages. He found that members of this minority articulated strong support for the existing government. Why? Although the Chinese received inferior treatment, they depended on the government for transportation, health care, and everyday survival. It’s not easy to defend mistreatment handed down from the existing system. Chinese minorities in the study had to work harder cognitively than Malays did when asked to write down supportive comments about the Malaysian government. But as mentally draining as it is to be oppressed in Malaysia, the Chinese minority maintained strong support for the government.
None of this means oppressed people like being part of the system. Of course they don’t. It’s not easy for a woman to accept that even in 2021, the business world is still dealing with misogyny—high-level positions are dominated by men, giving male friends an edge when finalizing leadership succession plans. And yet, for all its sordid injustices, America still offers more autonomy, financial opportunities, and safety for women than most other countries. Human beings often do what they can with the world as it is rather than complicating their lives in a possibly unsuccessful quest to produce the world they’d like to live in.
People often end up expressing appreciation and fondness when forced to operate within a social system, defending the benefits while ignoring the pain. In one Canadian study, researchers told participants that the government was tightening immigration policies and they wouldn’t be able to leave the country. When people believed the system was inescapable, they reconsidered Canada’s endemic sexism. Instead of regarding sexism as a systemic problem, Canadian citizens attributed it to biological differences between men and women. Believing there was no escape from Canada, they shifted from criticizing to legitimatizing an unfair status quo. Researchers obtained similar results in a separate experiment when they told college students they would have difficulty transferring to another institution. College students who thought their university was inescapable showed less interest and desire to help a student-led group that criticized and offered suggestions to the administration for improving the university. Students who felt empowered to transfer anytime showed stronger support for the student-led group.
Restricting people’s movements didn’t lead to their greater scrutiny of authorities or the system oppressing them. Instead, individuals defended the legitimacy of the powerful, higher-status, decision-making figures in their lives. Even worse, those reluctant to acknowledge problems with the existing system also held stronger negative attitudes about dissenters who stood up and criticized the system. When we regard an existing social hierarchy as problematic and unchanging, and we happen to be positioned on a lower rung with little power and influence, we exhibit a status quo bias. Oddly, we support policies that perpetuate existing inequalities. It happens when we deal with big problems, such as people experiencing economic disadvantages in society. It happens when we deal with smaller problems, such as when we feel unable to leave an unsatisfying friendship or romance.
4. You Hold Out Hope for Better Days Ahead
Hope is powerful. A conservative college student can matriculate for another semester, despite repeated prejudice in the classroom, as long as they see signs of progress—such as the founding of a club for conservatives or a statement by the university newspaper that it will cover liberal and conservative viewpoints equally. A low-level military member deployed abroad can stifle moral disagreement with a superior’s directives if they know the situation will eventually end. We can bide time within a crappy system if we believe our situation is temporary and that existing disadvantages are eroding.
When we feel hopeful, we won’t merely tolerate the existing system, but accept, defend, justify, and protect it. Dr. Chuma Owuamalam’s research shows what happens when a country starts to display signs of gender equality over a fifteen-year time span. As women make inroads in society, such as greater decision-making autonomy and greater representation in corporate boardrooms, women throw more support behind status quo beliefs that sex is irrelevant to opportunities and success. Feeling hopeful about upward mobility helps explain why women in the present support beliefs, policies, and politicians that appear antithetical to women’s interests. Experiments produced similar findings. After learning their university suffered a dramatic drop in prestige, students didn’t try to transfer nor did they pen op-eds denigrating the university. As long as students believed their university’s reputation would improve over time and the value of a degree would rise again, they maintained high levels of trust and affection for their academic home.
If you think about it, there is nobility in being able to stick with the program in hopes of a better future. The hopeful defenders of oppressive systems possess true grit, a factor that often predicts educational, financial, and occupational success better than curiosity or intelligence does. But let’s not get carried away in celebrating our capacity to endure a hurtful system.
Tell me, which of the following seven statements accurately describe you?
1. I’ve always felt that I could make of my life pretty much what I wanted to make of it.
2. Once I make up my mind to do something, I stay with it until the job is completely done.
3. When things don’t go the way I want them to, that just makes me work even harder.
4. It is not always easy, but I manage to find a way to do the things I really need to get done.
5. In the past, even when things got really tough, I never lost sight of my goals.
6. I do not let my personal feelings get in the way of doing a job.
7. Hard work has really helped me to get ahead in life.
If many of these items describe you, you’re probably congratulating yourself for grittiness. But despite appearances, these questions capture not grit, but something called John Henryism. Coined by Dr. Sherman James, John Henryism denotes the tendency of disadvantaged racial minorities to work too hard in ways that bring short-term success but that create long-term health problems. In the old folk tale, John Henry was the strongest man for hundreds of miles. Competing against a steam-powered drill in a race to break rocks for a railroad tunnel, he emerged victorious but then died from exhaustion. John Henry stands as a legend for superhuman single-mindedness. He persevered at his short-term goal with unwavering commitment, unrelenting vitality, and the circumvention of emotional and physical impediments. Yet his story serves as a parable for the potential costs of working as hard as possible to gain social approval and success when operating within a dysfunctional system.
Scientists followed 3,126 young adults (in their twenties) for twenty-five years. They discovered that young adults who displayed extreme perseverance suffered physically, just like John Henry himself. Higher blood pressure. Higher risk for cardiovascular disease. Twenty-five years later, they were still suffering. Slower mental speed. Poorer memory. Inferior executive functioning (a lack of attentional control, planning, and mental flexibility). The physiological and psychological toll of persevering through hardship is particularly pronounced in people from disadvantaged backgrounds. They’re told they just need to buckle down, work harder, and the future will reward them. Sure, hope has its benefits. Let’s just remember the potential costs that come with believing that oppression will subside and everything will turn out okay.
OPEN YOUR MIND TO CHANGE
Reading about how primed the oppressed are to conform to unjust and flawed systems might feel odd in a book celebrating insubordination. Am I blaming victims for not being more enlightened? Hell, no! I’m detailing psychological reality. Defending oppressive social arrangements makes sense if, as a member of a disadvantaged group, you feel psychologically vulnerable. It’s difficult to embrace an aspirational vision of the future when you’re coping with imminent dangers, when you find it impractical to escape a group, and when you hold out hope for the promise of a better future. As we’ve seen, during times of uncertainty, all of us tend to glom on to conventional wisdom.
