Polling by John Hopkins University in the lead up to the 2024 US election found that nearly half of eligible voters in the US believe that those in the opposing political party are “downright evil”.  

This is likely an illustration of an attribution bias called “Motive Attribution Asymmetry”– one group’s belief that their rivals are motivated by emotions opposite to their own. To put it in simple terms: if I believe x and I believe I am a good person with good intentions, people who believe y must be evil.  

Motive Attribution Asymmetry was coined in 2014, after five cross cultural studies identified a fundamental bias driving ‘seemingly intractable human conflict’. What these researchers found was that in political or ethno-religious intergroup conflict, adversaries tended to attribute aggression from their own side to ingroup love, and aggression from the opposing group to out-group hate.  

A key word in the findings here is ‘intractable’. Can you actively listen, or seek to empathise, when you believe that your opponent’s beliefs and actions are grounded in hate? You’ve already, possibly unconsciously, assumed their intrinsic motivation is evil – and it’s an easy hop, skip and jump to dehumanisation from there.  

In a New York Times column, Harvard Professor and Social Scientist, Arthur Brooks writes that motivation attribution asymmetry leads to contempt, which he says “is a noxious brew of anger and disgust, and not just contempt for other people’s ideas but also for other people”.

When we move from disagreeing, or even feeling contempt toward an idea, to contempt toward the whole person, we lose our humanity.

In the words of the 19th-century pessimistic philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, contempt “is the unsullied conviction of the worthlessness of another.”  

Let’s consider this in the larger scheme of human discourse.  

It’s why it can be so hard for two people to hold a conversation who have deeply opposing views, because they don’t trust, or already have a subconscious bias toward, each other’s motives.  

Has your dinner table ever erupted in conflict over opposing ideas? Or have you left a conversation feeling disgusted, wondering how, or if, you can continue the relationship with someone who supports something you’re vehemently against?  

In these conversations, look for how you or the people around you respond to opposing ideas. Sarcasm, eye-rolling, sneering or hostile humor are all indicators of contempt according to renowned social psychologist John Gottman. 

Schopenhauer also submits that if real contempt is shown, “it will be met with the most truculent hatred; for the despised person is not in a position to fight contempt with its own weapons.” Or, as we heard from the 2014 study, intractable conflict will ensue.  

So what’s the panacea to motive attribution asymmetry and its toxic bedfellow of contempt? One person who has overcome her own biases is two-time Festival of Dangerous Ideas (FODI) alum Meagan Phelps-Roper.  

A former born-and-raised, active member of the Westboro Baptist Church, Phelps-Roper left religious extremism behind after she encountered curiosity and a willingness to ask questions from some Twitter users. Their open-minded questions led her to ask her own, and ultimately choose a different path. Later, it was her appearance on stage at FODI 2018 that caused her to reflect on the importance of having difficult conversations in the public sphere. 

Phelps-Roper’s tips for engaging with disagreement begin with a very important piece of advice: don’t assume bad intent. Assuming ill motive, she says, immediately cuts us off from accessing empathy, and prevents us from trying to understand why someone does or believes differently. It also blocks any potential for real dialogue. Her other tips include asking questions, staying calm, and articulating your own argument.  

In her FODI 2024 session, The Witch Trials, alongside podcast producer Andy Mills, Phelps-Roper shared six prompts she asks herself in order to keep her own bias in check: 

1. Are you capable of entertaining real doubt about your beliefs? Or are you operating from a position of certainty?
2. Can you articulate the evidence you would need to see in order to change your position? Or is your perspective unfalsifiable?
3. Can you articulate your opponent’s perspective in a way that they recognise? Or are you straw-manning? 
4. Are you attacking ideas or attacking the people who hold them? 
5. Are you willing to cut off close relationships with people who disagree with you, particularly over small points of contention? 
6. Are you willing to use extraordinary means against people who disagree with you? 

If, she says, the answer to any of these is yes, she knows she’s embarking on a ‘bad path’.  

Perhaps next time you sit down alongside that opinionated uncle or sibling and the conversation takes a slippery turn, pause for a moment, then engage back with curiosity and the assumption of good – or even just neutral – intent. 

Each week, for 45 minutes, I sit down with a group of year two students and discuss ethics.

We’ll tackle an ethical concept or dilemma, typically in the form of a story, with questions designed to draw out deep discussion amongst the class.

The Ethics Centre established Primary Ethics as an independent not-for-profit in 2011, tasked with developing a curriculum and recruiting volunteers to run weekly ethics classes as an alternative in the scripture timeslot in public schools. They now deliver lessons to 45,000 children in 500 schools from kindergarten to year eight.

Classes are led by trained volunteers, who act as impartial facilitators. Our role is to model active listening and ask questions that build critical thinking skills and encourage collaborative learning.

For me, it feels like the most important gift I can give to the next generation. And, if I’m honest, I find I am learning in each and every class right alongside them.

Here are five lessons I’ve learned from teaching Primary Ethics this year:

1. Curiosity is the gateway to critical thinking.

Embracing curiosity is how we learn; it’s the driving force for growth, discovery, and innovation. The innate curiosity in children is a vital foundation for developing skills like critical thinking, empathy and thoughtful decision-making.

You see a curious mind doesn’t accept information at face value; it probes deeper, asking why, how, and what if? It fuels the critical examination of ideas, helps us to identify biases, to sort fact from fiction, and to consider situations from multiple perspectives.

I admire the unbridled curiosity of the students I teach. It’s contagious. As adults, we can get stuck in our routines and belief systems. We accept the status quo and stop exploring what’s possible.

2. There is power in saying “I don’t know”.

One of the most powerful moments this year came when a student asked a question I couldn’t answer. I took a breath and said, “I don’t know – what do other students think?”

And just like that, the room lit up. I had given the students permission to be knowledge holders and modelled the open-minded growth mindset we want to cultivate through ethics lessons. Since then I have witnessed so much more willingness to have a go from everyone in the room.

It turns out there’s a kind of magic in admitting you don’t have all the answers. Teaching ethics is not about being an authority; it’s about being a partner in figuring things out. Admitting you don’t know doesn’t make you weaker – it opens the door for connection and learning.

3. To disagree respectfully, we need to be open to learning from each other.

Nine-year-olds are full of opinions. But what also stands out to me is how open they are to new points of view, to listen to each other, even when they disagree. Recently, a student in my class said she disagreed with the person sitting next to her. That student smiled, said, ‘that’s ok’, and leaned into hearing her peer explain why. Imagine if we could cultivate that across the political divide?

Kids don’t assume the worst in someone who thinks differently – they assume they are trying their best, just as they themselves are. Watching them address and debate differing points of view without engaging in personal attack or any attempt to discredit each other is a beautiful reminder that respectful disagreement starts with empathy, assuming good intentions and willingness to learn from each other.

4. Psychological safety empowers new ideas, and even changes minds.

There’s a sense of psychological safety built through collaborative inquiry, because everyone’s ideas and questions are valid here. The kids thrive in the freedom it offers to explore, build on each other’s ideas, and even to change their minds.

When I started teaching this class two years ago, everyone was itching to have their turn, and to get the answer ‘right’. Now they have begun to really listen to each other – not just to respond, but to understand each other’s opinions.

This year there’s been instances where students have discussed feeling conflicted over a question, proposed merit across differing sides of a debate, and even changed their mind after listening to other points of view.

It’s a powerful reminder of how active listening can transform conversations. Making someone feel heard deepens trust, fosters empathy, and makes room for challenging conversations. It isn’t just a tool for learning; it’s a tool for connection.

5. Ethics in education can establish a resiliency for life.

Resilience, I fear, is a word that’s lost some of its charm for a lot of adults. Through ethics lessons I’ve been reminded that resilience isn’t the nefarious push through mentality or the ability to bounce back from a setback. It can also be staying engaged with challenging situations, even when the answers are messy or unclear. It’s regulating emotions, processing stress and being adaptable to change.

Ethics lessons are about grappling with tough questions, sometimes without any resolution. Nine-year-olds handle this better than you’d think, and certainly better than a lot of adults do. When there’s no clear answer, they meet the discomfort of uncertainty with curiosity and creative thinking.

Volunteer to become a Primary Ethics teacher and you’ll be helping children develop important skills for life. Find out more here.