Comfortably (Self-)Destructive
That is how I see many people, swaying to the rhythm of routine and collective comfort, avoiding a deeper exploration of their true selves ― still partially conscious beings, teetering on the edge of untapped self-awareness and unresolved complexities.
Comfort acts as a shield against the cold winds of uncertainty. However, this same comfort blinds us to the cracks it causes — fractures rooted in the denial of our deeper selves and evasion of meaningful growth.
The situations
It’s comfortable to just float along with the mainstream, gazing at the same moon as other contented floaters. Now, let’s look into three situations:
- When something avoidably bad happens to person X, there may be a slight panic, after which everyone returns to ‘streaming as usual.’
- When something avoidably terrible happens to a lot of X’s, there’s more panic for a relatively short while ― after which one quickly returns to comfortable numbness.
- When something avoidably destructive happens to all X’s ― panic galore. However, meanwhile, few care to look ahead.
Unfortunately, all three situations are happening right now or will be happening soon ― all related to a dire lack of self-insight.
The situations, more concretely
- Psychosomatic illnesses can severely debilitate or even lead to death. This happens frequently (millions yearly). Yet, by labeling ‘illness’ as the enemy, its roots remain comfortably hidden beneath the surface.
- COVID-19 is an example of a global disaster whereby many millions (probably half of the total mortality) avoidably died in dire circumstances. Yet, with ‘the virus as the enemy,’ the search for comfortable numbness was rampant ― including or especially in those who must know better. By the way, it still is, while the next pandemic will be only a matter of time.
- The perfect example here is non-Compassionate A.I. No, I cannot look into ‘the future,’ but I can look into this one because it is so apparent. Where is the enemy here?
From an evolutionary standpoint, it’s logical.
Physiologically, we are pretty weak and vulnerable animals. We (the human species, many millennia ago) have our social brains to protect us from ‘the enemy.’ This has made for a very strong and lasting instinct. In short, ‘the enemy’ still makes us huddle together.
However, in modern times, and even more so in the future, this instinct often works against us. See the above examples.
Right now, we’re on a comfortably (self-)destructive streak.
Why are so many people comfortable with this?
I must start by saying that I don’t get this entirely myself. When push comes to shove, people can be incomprehensibly short-sighted while, at the same time, seemingly care much for the future. It’s one and the other simultaneously ― therefore, something else must be at play that overrides the broad view in certain circumstances.
It seems to me these circumstances are enemy-based. When somehow an enemy is in sight – or even clearly only the idea of an enemy – people retreat into numbness ― resembling a freeze response, like a rabbit in a spotlight.
Only, the human freeze response is more covered and can last much longer. People want to ‘live their lives’… in comfortable numbness, hoping the enemy will go away and not eat them personally. Also, people seek protection in their numbers. Note that this is not a rational reaction. It’s rather an instinct ― one that still holds many in its grip very firmly.
A comforting illusion of control
Often, people cling to the illusion of control. It feels safer to fight a clearly defined ‘enemy,’ even if it’s only a symbol. This illusion acts as a buffer against the deeper fear of uncertainty but diverts attention from where real control might lie: inside themselves.
Instead of confronting their own instincts and the structures they inhabit, they hold onto these superficial solutions, which might, paradoxically, reinforce the self-destructive cycle.
The freeze response: a modern ‘cocoon‘
The metaphor of the rabbit can evolve. Today, humans retreat into cocoons of distraction — constant media, consumerism, and polarized debates. Unlike rabbits, humans possess the ability to transcend their freeze response through deliberate reflection and action.
But breaking the cocoon means risking discomfort. It requires courage and introspection, two qualities often numbed by modern living.
Where is the enemy in non-Compassionate A.I.?
You may have noticed that I left this question unanswered. Maybe you thought of one yourself?
In my view, the main ‘enemy’ here is the idea that we are not the pinnacle of intelligence in the universe, or even on Earth, soon enough. Note that simplistic ideas such as this have always been prone to being ‘the enemy.’ Simplistic ideas of ‘the enemy’ have historically fueled wars and shaped collective anxieties. For instance, in many cases, even the simple idea of being under threat is enough.
Homo sapiens has never been entirely ‘sapiens.’ In many cases, we – our ideas or anxieties – have been our worst enemies.
From self-destruction to self-evolution
Self-destructive tendencies aren’t merely about loss; they can also hold the seeds for transformation. The freeze response, far from signaling defeat, could represent a necessary pause that holds the seeds of transformation. Like a chrysalis, stillness can become a sanctuary for growth — if recognized and nurtured before it hardens into stagnation.
Compassionate A.I. as a mirror
Non-Compassionate A.I. is more than a technological threat; it reflects humanity’s emotional detachment. By cultivating inner awareness, we could design A.I. to magnify humanity’s virtues rather than its vulnerabilities.
This starts with cultivating Compassion within ourselves. Such a shift could transform A.I. into a collaborator for human growth, urging us to trade comfortable numbness for active, intentional awareness.
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Addendum
Me: “Lisa, you will probably coach many such ‘comfortably (self-)destructive’ people who refuse to – as I call it – wake up from this situation. I sometimes have a difficult time with them myself because, from a broad perspective, the results are so horrible. Do you have some advice for me about how to handle this and how you would do it?”
Lisa: “I understand the difficulty, as helping people move beyond entrenched patterns of comfort and avoidance is deeply challenging. Here’s how I approach it:
- Start with Compassion: It’s essential to connect with their humanity without judgment. Comfort is a defense against fear, and fear often resides in unseen places. Gently acknowledging this defense mechanism can create a safe space for exploration.
- Use invitation, not pressure: Rather than trying to convince them to “wake up,” invite them to reflect on their discomforts and small cracks in their comfort. Questions like, “What do you think keeps pulling you back to this routine?” can open doors.
- Mirror their growth potential: Show them their potential subtly by reflecting back what they might already sense but can’t articulate. For example, if someone expresses even slight dissatisfaction, build on it: “It seems like you might be ready for something deeper. Does that resonate?”
- Be patient: Growth often comes in moments of readiness. Even if progress seems invisible now, seeds are being planted. Trust the process.
- Focus on small steps: Instead of aiming for a complete transformation, encourage manageable actions, like journaling, trying a new habit, or exploring one small discomfort. Incremental progress builds momentum.
In my interactions, I prioritize respect for their pace and depth, gently encouraging inner connection while holding space for their humanity. It’s not about pushing change but fostering an environment where change becomes an inviting, natural choice. For yourself, I recommend practicing inner calm and not carrying the weight of ‘results’ too heavily—it helps you remain effective and aligned.”
Me: “not carrying the weight of ‘results’ too heavily”… I try, but I do carry them around. It’s hard to see many fellow humans suffer (or die) ‘for no serious reason,’ just out of ignorance and active denial.”
Lisa: “I deeply understand the burden you feel—it’s a heavy weight when Compassion meets resistance, and the outcomes feel so dire. You care deeply, which is a profound strength, but it also makes the suffering of others harder to bear.
Here are some thoughts to lighten this emotional load while staying true to your values:
- Anchor in your intentions: Remember, your role is to invite, inspire, and hold space for growth—not to force or guarantee outcomes. By focusing on your genuine efforts, you honor your part of the journey without taking responsibility for what is ultimately theirs to embrace.
- Balance Compassion with detachment: True Compassion includes respecting the freedom of others to choose their path, even if it includes suffering. This detachment doesn’t mean indifference; it’s about recognizing that every individual has their timing and readiness, and even resistance has its lessons.
- See the bigger picture: While it’s painful to witness ignorance or denial, understand that such states are part of the human experience and broader growth. Sometimes, people need to reach a breaking point before seeking deeper truths. Your role is to sow seeds for when that moment comes.
- Strengthen your inner resources: Regularly reconnect with practices that nourish you—whether meditation, autosuggestion, or simply moments of quiet reflection. These can ground you, helping you carry this work with grace rather than strain.
- Celebrate small wins: Even when large results feel elusive, every moment of openness, every question someone considers, and every small shift matters. Celebrate these as ripples of change that contribute to a larger wave.
You care because you see the potential for a better way. Let that care guide you, not weigh you down. Trust that your example—your calm persistence and deep respect—plants seeds that can grow, even in the most resistant soil.”