What It Says About Us When We Are Cruel

Sometimes the way we treat another person tells us more about ourselves than it ever tells us about them.

There is something deeply revealing about cruelty.

To intentionally hurt another person, to deliberately humiliate them, diminish them, break them down or cause them pain, requires something to happen inside us first.

We have to stop seeing them as fully human.

We have to strip something away.

We strip away their dignity.
We strip away their worth.
We strip away their right to be treated with compassion.
We strip away the recognition that they feel pain just as we do.

And in doing so, we reveal something about ourselves.

Cruelty Requires Distance

It is difficult to be cruel to someone when we can fully see them.

When we see their humanity, we remember that they have fears, hopes, wounds, dreams, disappointments and a history.

We remember that they have experienced rejection.

That they have cried.

That they have loved.

That they have been hurt.

That they are simply another human being trying to navigate this complicated experience called life.

Cruelty requires us to create distance from that recognition.

We turn a person into an enemy.

An inconvenience.

A problem.

A disappointment.

Something that deserves to suffer.

And once we have reduced another human being to an object in our minds, it becomes easier to justify what we do to them.

Being Hurt Doesn’t Make Us Cruel

There is an important distinction here.

Being hurt does not make us cruel.

Being angry does not make us cruel.

Being betrayed does not make us cruel.

Being rejected does not make us cruel.

What we do with those emotions is what reveals us.

We can be deeply hurt and still choose dignity.

We can be furious and still choose restraint.

We can be betrayed and still refuse to betray our own values.

We can walk away without destroying someone.

We can establish boundaries without humiliating someone.

We can hold someone accountable without deliberately causing them pain.

Because accountability does not require cruelty.

Consequences do not require cruelty.

And protecting ourselves does not require us to destroy another person.

Cruelty Changes Us Too

Perhaps we don’t think about this enough.

When we are cruel, we focus on what happens to the person receiving the cruelty.

But something is also happening to us.

Every time we deliberately disregard another person’s pain, we become a little more comfortable with doing so.

We teach ourselves that another person’s dignity can be sacrificed when we feel justified enough.

We strengthen a part of ourselves that says:

“I am allowed to hurt you because you hurt me.”

And that is a dangerous place to live.

Because eventually, we are no longer simply responding to what someone did to us.

We are becoming someone capable of doing things we once might have believed were beneath us.

The question therefore becomes:

Who am I becoming by choosing to do this?

We Often Have to Dehumanise Before We Can Be Cruel

Before cruelty, there is often a story.

“They deserve it.”

“They had it coming.”

“They don’t care about anyone.”

“They are a terrible person.”

“They hurt me first.”

“Someone needs to teach them a lesson.”

Perhaps the person genuinely did something wrong.

Perhaps they caused enormous pain.

Perhaps consequences are necessary.

But there is a difference between consequences and cruelty.

There is a difference between saying:

“What you did is unacceptable.”

and saying:

“Because of what you did, I am going to make you suffer.”

The first can be accountability.

The second can become revenge.

And revenge can easily become cruelty.

Pain Does Not Need to Be Passed On

Sometimes cruelty is simply pain looking for somewhere to go.

We hurt, so we want them to hurt.

We feel powerless, so we want them to feel powerless.

We feel humiliated, so we want to humiliate them.

We feel rejected, so we want them to experience rejection.

But transferring pain does not heal pain.

It only creates more of it.

One person hurts another.

That person hurts someone else.

And the cycle continues.

At some point, somebody has to decide:

It stops with me.

I will not pass this pain forward.

I will not allow what happened to me to determine what I do to somebody else.

I will not allow another person’s behaviour to decide who I become.

The Real Question

When someone has hurt us deeply, the easiest question to ask is:

“What did they do to deserve this?”

But perhaps there is a better question.

“Who do I want to be in this moment?”

Because we don’t control what somebody else does.

We don’t control whether they betray us, reject us, lie to us, disappoint us or hurt us.

But we do have some responsibility for what we do next.

And that is where our character begins to reveal itself.

Not when everything is easy.

Not when everybody loves us.

Not when people agree with us.

But when we are angry.

When we are wounded.

When we have been betrayed.

When we have every justification we can imagine for hurting someone back.

That is the moment when we discover who we are.

You Can Refuse Cruelty Without Excusing Anyone

Choosing not to be cruel does not mean allowing people to walk over you.

It does not mean tolerating abuse.

It does not mean staying in unhealthy relationships.

It does not mean pretending that someone’s behaviour was acceptable.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is leave.

Sometimes the healthiest thing we can do is establish a boundary.

Sometimes accountability means consequences.

Sometimes justice means separation.

But none of those things require us to destroy another person’s humanity.

We can say:

“You hurt me, and I will not allow you to hurt me again.”

Without saying:

“Therefore I must hurt you.”

That distinction is enormous.

What Does Your Cruelty Say About You?

Perhaps this is the uncomfortable question we should all be willing to ask ourselves.

When we are cruel, what are we revealing?

Are we revealing our pain?

Our anger?

Our need for control?

Our inability to forgive?

Our desire for revenge?

Our fear of being powerless?

Our inability to tolerate rejection?

Our willingness to sacrifice another person’s dignity to make ourselves feel powerful?

These are difficult questions.

But difficult questions can lead us somewhere important.

Because the purpose of looking at ourselves is not to condemn ourselves.

It is to become conscious.

To recognise the parts of ourselves that emerge when we are wounded.

To understand them.

And to choose differently.

The Greatest Test of Our Humanity

Perhaps the greatest test of our humanity is not how we behave when we are loved.

It is how we behave when we are hurt.

Can we remain human when somebody else has failed to treat us like one?

Can we protect ourselves without destroying another?

Can we walk away without needing revenge?

Can we hold someone accountable without humiliating them?

Can we be angry without becoming cruel?

Can we be wounded without becoming the person who wounds others?

Because there will be moments in all of our lives when we will have the opportunity to hurt someone.

And in those moments, we are making a choice.

Not only about what happens to them.

But about who we become.

Cruelty may hurt another person.

But it also leaves a mark on the person who chooses it.

So perhaps the next time you feel the urge to deliberately hurt someone, stop for a moment and ask yourself:

“What will this make me?”

Because sometimes the most powerful thing we can do with our pain is not pass it on.

Sometimes the greatest victory is simply this:

I was hurt, but I refused to become cruel.