“People bind themselves into political teams that share moral narratives. Once they accept a particular narrative, they become blind to alternative morals worlds.” (p. XXIII)

In early June, I wrote a post titled The Human Side of Economics. In it, I discussed a review by The Economist of Alvin Roth’s book, Moral Economics. The reviewer commented that while Roth demonstrated a strong concern for individual autonomy and reducing suffering, he tended to avoid deeper debates about why people find certain transactions morally offensive. I mentioned at the time that I was reading The Righteous Mind by Jonathan Haidt, and wondered if Haidt might have the answer to that question. Having finished it, the book definitely provides an answer to that question—and to many others, for that matter.
In his conclusion, Haidt summarizes his core premise:
“This book explained why people are divided by politics and religion. The answer is not, as Manichaeans would have it, because some people are good and others are evil. Instead, the explanation is that our minds were designed for groupish righteousness. We are deeply intuitive creatures whose gut feelings drive our strategic reasoning.” (p. 370)
Perhaps that is the answer The Economist’s reviewer was looking for, but I am still not totally convinced.
The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion was an excellent read, though it wasn’t without its challenges. I found myself getting angry with the author at times. However, a comment previously made to me by Dr. Stein kept coming to mind: “Haidt is a research psychologist and will give you quite a different view than…” Remembering this helped me work through my initial friction. It allowed me to shift my focus, evaluating the book through the lens of social psychology rather than ethics and philosophy, and I ended up enjoying it.
I think philosophers, especially the Stoics, are right in arguing that human beings have the capacity to evaluate what is right and wrong, good and bad, through reason. At the same time, biology and genetics may play a role in shaping human behavior. That is one possible explanation for how figures such as Hitler and Mussolini emerge in history. Of course, that is merely my opinion, so let me return to the review.
Moving back to the review, Haidt divides the book into three parts: Part 1, Intuitions Come First, Strategic Reasoning Second; Part 2, There’s More to Morality than Harm and Fairness; and Part 3, Morality Binds and Blinds.
One feature I really liked, and that I also noticed when reading The Anxious Generation, is that Haidt provides a summary at the end of each chapter. I find this tremendously helpful.
He doesn’t shy away from telling readers that he is both a liberal and an atheist. That doesn’t bother me in the least because I always try to keep an open mind and engage with different viewpoints. However, I can see how some readers might shut down, stop reading, or simply dismiss his arguments because of those disclosures.
To illustrate his points, Haidt relies heavily on narrative. I won’t recount those specific stories here because they are quite provocative, but I recognize why they were necessary to properly assess people’s moral intuitions.
He proposes many hypotheses, but I’m not sure he definitively answers any moral questions. He also draws from philosophers such as David Hume, as well as scientists and psychologists, to frame many of his views and hypotheses. As a result, it can be difficult to pinpoint his personal position—or at least it was for me. This book is worth a second reading, however, and perhaps I’ll see it more clearly the next time around.
It is also worth noting the book was published in 2012, well before the modern political era. One of the hypotheses Haidt discusses, drawing on Glaucon’s dialogue with Socrates in The Republic, is:
“The most important principle for designing an ethical society is to make sure that everyone’s reputation is on the line all the time, so that bad behavior will always bring bad consequences.” (p. 86)
Looking at the current political landscape, that principle unfortunately feels like a relic of the past.
Several other highlights stood out to me during my reading:
“Confirmation bias, the tendency to seek out and interpret new evidence in ways that confirm what you already think.” (p. 93)
“But in psychology our goal is descriptive. We want to discover how the moral mind actually works, not how it ought to work, and that can’t be done by reasoning, math, or logic.” (p. 141)
To map this descriptive psychology, Haidt and his colleagues created the Moral Foundations Questionnaire, which measures how strongly people value Care, Fairness, Loyalty, Authority, and Sanctity. On pages 184 through 187, he maps this data on a scale from 0 (not at all relevant) to 5 (extremely relevant). The data shows that “very liberal” individuals score exceptionally high on Care and Fairness but very low on Loyalty, Authority, and Sanctity. Meanwhile, “very conservative” individuals score relatively high across all five areas.
I generally dislike questionnaires, but data collection is a necessity in social psychology. They even created a website where readers can answer questions and see how they score on the various moral foundations. If you’re interested, you can learn more at YourMorals.org.
One of the biggest points of personal disagreement for me came from page 283:
“When I began writing The Happiness Hypothesis, I believed that happiness came from within, as Buddha and the Stoic philosophers said thousands of years ago. You’ll never make the world conform to your wishes, so focus on changing yourself and your desires. But by the time I finished writing, I had changed my mind: Happiness comes from between. It comes from getting the right relationships between yourself and others, yourself and your work, and yourself and something larger than yourself.”
That argument was confusing to me, and I disagree with it. I believe happiness begins within. Once a person develops inner stability and contentment, they are better able to enjoy relationships, meaningful work, and something larger than themselves.
Haidt uses two heavily overlapping definitions to ground his final chapters:
- Moral Systems: “…interlocking sets of values, virtues, norms, practices, identities, institutions, technologies, and evolved psychological mechanisms that work together to suppress or regulate self-interest and make cooperative societies possible.” (p. 314)
- Moral Capital: “…the degree to which a community possesses interlocking sets of values, virtues, norms, practices, identities, institutions, and technologies that mesh well with evolved psychological mechanisms and thereby enable the community to suppress or regulate selfishness and make cooperation possible.” (p. 341)
A lot of repetition, I know. Haidt does that throughout the book, but he uses these concepts to make a poignant political point:
“…if you are trying to change an organization or a society and you do not consider the effects of your changes on moral capital, you’re asking for trouble. This, I believe, is the fundamental blind spot of the left. It explains why liberal reforms so often backfire, and why communist revolutions usually end up in despotism.” (pp. 342- 343)
Following this, he spends a significant portion of the book (pages 343 to 364) framing modern politics through the lens of Yin and Yang, leaning on the philosophies of John Stuart Mill and Bertrand Russell to suggest that liberals and conservatives are both necessary, balancing elements of a healthy political ecosystem.
He leaves the reader with some practical advice on how to bridge these deep divides:
“So the next time you find yourself seated beside someone… don’t just jump in. Don’t bring up morality until you’ve found a few points of commonality or in some other way established a bit of trust. And when you do bring up issues of morality, try to start with some praise, or with a sincere expression of interest.” (p. 371)
That’s good advice, assuming people are open-minded and willing to engage in that kind of discussion.
There weren’t many “aha” moments for me in this book. Haidt learned through his experiences in India and other countries that cultures and moral systems vary considerably around the world, and those experiences clearly shaped his thinking. He seems to suggest that morality begins with gut feelings and intuitions, and that people then use reason to justify those intuitions and align themselves with groups that share similar values.
That may be true for many people. However, I believe there are also individuals who carefully examine competing worldviews and arrive at moral convictions through reflection and reason. Such people may understand different perspectives without feeling compelled to abandon their own moral framework simply to fit a new narrative or cultural trend.
I recommend this book to anyone looking for a basic understanding of our current, fractured political environment, especially if you want to understand the tribal instincts behind group alignment. However, if you are looking for a deep, rigorous ethical or philosophical argument, this is definitely not the book for you.
About the Author:
Jonathan Haidt is a social psychologist at New York University’s Stern School of Business. He received his Ph.D. from the University of Pennsylvania in 1992.
As always, I enjoy reading your book reviews but this book review I must say you’re a better man than me fore I could not have read this book. I am grateful that you took the time to not only read the book but to give a clever book review.
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What a thoughtful and balanced review. I especially appreciated how you engaged with Haidt’s ideas critically yet fairly, remaining open to perspectives that challenged your own assumptions. Your reflections on the tension between reason, intuition, psychology, and philosophy add a depth that goes beyond a simple book review.
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Thank you very much! I’m glad you found the review informative, and I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
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