ABSTRACT
In most (or all?) human groups certain actions are considered heroic, and the individuals who act them out are considered heroes. This is an important feature of human societies: to recognize that there are actions that might be more important than life, actions that lift the community above the primal subsistence level where mere survival is the highest goal. When Pliny the Elder in the year 79 decided not to sail away from the erupting Mount Vesuvius, (either because he was curious to understand how eruptions worked, or because he wanted to help his friend Pomponianus, who with his family was living in Stabiae close to the volcano) and because of his asthmatic condition was killed by the fumes of the volcano, he left an example to all humanity with a clear message: if necessary, adding to knowledge, or helping a friend, are worth risking one’s life for. Changes in the way heroism has been conceived during history mirror quite well the
evolution of the human species as a whole. Originally, in the first cultures that have left written records, heroism was an attribute of warriors who had risked their lives for the sake of their kin, their community, and later for the sake of country or ideology (cf. e.g., Redfield, 1975). This way of thinking about heroism corresponds to the sequence through which human identity appears to have evolved: first the identity is focused exclusively on the self, then it expands to include family, kin, neighbors, and eventually those other selves who share the language, beliefs, and nationality of the individual (Csikszentmihalyi, 1993). Recognizing only martial heroes reflects a limited understanding of societal well-being, and
in turn limits our understanding of what society needs in order to flourish. Naturally, when a group is threatened with destruction, surrounded by enemies intent on taking away their territory, the material sources of their well-being, or the cultural elements that support the group’s identity, it is understandable-even essential-that those individuals who are ready to intervene in defense of their group should be recognized and admired. Under the pressure of socio-cultural competition, the production, recognition, and reward of heroism becomes a survival strategy for the group. Of course, martial heroism is usually a zero-sum process. The hero of group A is usually the
nemesis of group B, and vice-versa (Campbell & Moyers, 1988). Voltaire is thought to have said that on the cages of the wild beasts at the Zoological Garden in Paris they should hang signs warning: Cet animal est trés méchant; quand on l’attaque, il se defend; or, “Watch out for this savage beast; when attacked, it will defend itself !” (According to King (1904), however, the phrase more likely originated in a nineteenth-century French music-hall song.)
Actually, among the denizens of the zoo it would be difficult to speak of heroism: they sometimes do act in ways similar to what we would call heroism, as when birds on the fringe of a feeding flock will raise the alarm at the approach of a hawk or other predator, even though by so doing they often attract the attention of the hawk, and end up becoming the prey while the rest of the flock flies away to another tree. But birds, as far as we know, have no way of computing the consequences of their actions; it is just that reproductive groups of birds that have several individuals with genes that make them cry out at the sight of a predator will survive and prosper more than a group where every individual is programmed to watch out only for itself. In humans, we speak of heroism only when an act is the result of considered and conscious choice. Nevertheless, because of the complexity of human survival needs, it is difficult to determine at what point an attack is warranted, or a defense disproportionate. When Christianity started attracting converts, the Roman Empire was on the brink of being
toppled by revolts in the Germanic and Celtic regions, and by waves of nomadic hordes from the East. The emperors had to send the Roman armies from the North Sea to the Black Sea, from Britain to Turkey. At the same time, they interpreted the growth of the new religion as a threat to their supreme authority: Christians gave priority to the commandments of their God over the Emperor’s power. So the Emperor tried to staunch the spread of Christianity by increasingly severe punishments, ending with the circus spectacles in which heroic Christians died for their beliefs, praising their God while starving lions devoured them. From the Emperor’s point of view, the Christians were a subversive sect that came out of nowhere (or Palestine) to undermine the authority of the most successful political and cultural organization on the face of the earth. Feeding them to lions was seen by them as a humanitarian duty. From the viewpoint of the Christians, and of their successful descendants, however, the Christian martyrs were heroes who chose death rather than the spiritual destruction that would have resulted from forsaking their faith. More recent historical examples of heroism are more inclusive, less zero-sum in nature. We
are beginning to recognize as heroes individuals who risk their lives for the advancement of knowledge-like Pliny is said to have done. Galileo came close to being burned alive because of his insistence that his eyes gave him information that was different from that contained in the Bible. Marie Curie gave up her health, and then her life, in order to continue her research into radiation. This kind of heroism reflects the work of pioneering individuals opening up new possibilities
for being human. As such, it makes sense for psychologists to try to understand them-their motives, their strengths, their strategies for persevering against the forces of inertia and the threats to personal comfort, or even of survival. Yet strangely enough, psychologists have not shown much interest in understanding heroism, or the phenomenology of heroes. Until quite recently: the work of Stanley Milgram foreshadowed that of Philip Zimbardo, and their experimental approach has opened up an influential new branch of social psychology. Here we present another approach, based on qualitative interviews collected from individuals
who have acted out behavior in their everyday lives that could be considered heroic. Izabela Lebuda used interviews with Polish artists who have challenged the repressive post-World War II regime of her homeland, together with their written works, to illustrate what makes people take a stand against what they consider bad government-often reluctantly, and often at great personal cost. What caused them to take a stand? What and who helped them to persevere? How did they come to terms with the dangers and privations that their actions provoked? The other study, from Michael Condren, describes a more muted but psychologically perhaps
more difficult form of heroism: one where a person takes a stand against social conventions and institutions that seem benign or at least neutral to the majority of the population, yet are injurious to a minority. He analyzes interviews with activists involved in the gay liberation movement, who risked their jobs and standing in the community to fight for the recognition of
the dangers of AIDS, and the necessity for a more active medical response to the scourge. Again, the questions are similar to those asked by Lebuda: What motivated these activists to take a stand? What and who helped them? How did they develop their strategies, and what impact did their actions have on their lives? Obviously these two studies are just a beginning, an indication of how psychology can help
understand a phenomenon that is of great importance for the health of society, and for the future evolution of humankind. It is to be hoped, I think, that psychologists begin to pursue these concerns more actively in the pursuit of a better society, and better ways of living.
