Propaganda for Beginners, Part 5: Dehumanising and Humanising in Propaganda

Sep 24, 2024

(Originally published at propagandainfocus.com)

Part 5 of the series “Propaganda for Beginners”: Read Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.

In the world of propaganda and psychological warfare, language and visual representation plays a significant role. An important method to influence the perception and thus the attitude of the public, particularly in situations of conflict or war, is the use of techniques for "humanising" and "dehumanising" people.

What do "Humanising" and "Dehumanising" Mean?

We are all human beings. One could even speak of a "family of humanity". The technique of humanising serves to remind us of this common humanity, to make us feel connected to one another. The technique of dehumanising serves precisely the opposite purpose: to make us forget the humanity of the other person or group.

How Does Humanising Work?

The way in which people and events are narrated influences our feelings and our identification with the depicted individuals.

The narrative perspective plays a central role here. When a situation is presented from only a certain perspective, we automatically identify with the narrator or the person placed at the centre of the events, the one "zoomed in" on, the one whose experience we enter.

Pay attention, for example, to current geopolitical conflicts and wars, to see from which side the story is being told, whose perspective shapes the events – whose suffering and losses are being recounted, whose feelings, perceptions, hopes, and fears are being told. Unfortunately, nowadays it is always the side that our government is currently strategically supporting. Responsible journalists, who would also be interested in peace, would depict both sides, including the arguments and perspectives of the rulers as well as the experiences and suffering of the population on all sides. When this does not happen, we have left the realm of journalism and are in the midst of propaganda. Currently, this approach can be clearly observed in the coverage of the Ukraine war and the Israeli government's military actions in the Gaza Strip.

So, humanising initially works through the choice of perspective.

Finding the Common Ground

Another technique of "humanising" is to highlight what we have in common – that is, to depict people in such a way that those to whom the communication is directed can discover overlaps with these people and thus feel close to them.

Practically, this means: While one side is "dehumanised" by being referred to derogatorily, dehumanised, and reduced very one-dimensionally to a role, attribute, or function (e.g., "pig" for a policeman), the people who are meant to be humanised are introduced in their contexts as "father", "mother", "entrepreneur", "cancer patient", "football player", "owner of a nail salon", etc. Thus, as many and as emotional or positively connoted attributes as possible are described, along with the circumstances, dreams, plans, activities, feelings, statements, and hopes of this person, creating the effect that readers or viewers perceive them as a human being, even feel like they "know" them, can identify with them and empathise with them. This results in feelings and thoughts like: "I know this person now", "I could be their friend", "That could be my child".

In itself, it is initially nice and positive to strengthen love among people and create a sense of community. However, it becomes problematic when it is part of propaganda, used unilaterally, and serves to, for example, make war crimes invisible (see, for example, the depiction of IDF soldiers during the military operations in the Gaza Strip via videos of young, cheerful girls doing TikTok dance routines).

Perhaps a note for clarity: Many of these mechanisms also arise as spontaneous emotional impulses and reactions without needing to be manipulatively controlled.

Let’s take a very banal example from everyday life: You arrive at the airport stressed and with little time, fearing that you might miss your flight. Maybe your small child is crying, you haven’t eaten enough, and you just argued with your partner about the right detour due to construction work on the way. You have been standing in the check-in queue for a long time, and the airline employee who is supposed to check you in is, in your perception, talking on the phone for an extremely long time without acknowledging you. You get angry at her, and when she finally attends to you, you are curt and harsh in how you address her. Due to the stress and situation, you only see her in her role as "staff" and "function", not as a whole person with many dimensions and feelings, with whom you might have a lot in common, but rather see her as a kind of hostile object. Let’s assume she suddenly "breaks character" at that moment, perhaps wiping the sweat from her brow and saying, "Ah, I feel dizzy, I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast." or "How old is your son? My daughter is almost the same age." If you aren’t already completely enraged at this point and have a reasonably stable character, your perception of the woman would change suddenly, and the atmosphere between you would improve instantly. You would be reminded that she is also "just" a human being with weaknesses, who isn’t well herself, or a mother with small children. You remember your shared humanity and feel much more kindly towards her.

The Role of Emotions

Here, a major theme comes into play that actually deserves its own article, namely the role of emotions in political communication. Emotions play a significant role in the context of the techniques of humanising/dehumanising, as both humanising and dehumanising work by evoking emotions. And our emotional state also determines to what extent we humanise or dehumanise others ourselves (see below).

When humanising, emotions such as love, sympathy, and empathy are evoked – when dehumanising, emotions such as hate, fear, rejection, and contempt are aroused. The more strongly the terms used by politicians and journalists elicit emotions, the more likely we are in a situation where humanising/dehumanising is happening, whether consciously or unconsciously. Unfortunately, the use of highly emotional terms, descriptions, but also photos and films, often serve to manipulate the public – or, in the most innocent case, they are a sign that the reporters themselves are so strongly driven by their own emotions that they can no longer report objectively.

Emotions also play a role in humanising or dehumanising because increasing stress, time pressure, the feeling of urgency, crisis, or threat, but also traumatisation or re-traumatisation by the depiction of atrocities, death, torture, danger, loss, destruction, or the threat of these, have effects on human perception, information processing, and our emotional reactions.

Under stress, we tend to think in black and white and to categorise people clearly as friend or foe. Our ability to think and analyse suffers, as does our ability to differentiate, tolerate ambiguities, and understand complexities. Everyone knows this from fits of anger or heated arguments. When negative feelings and stress overwhelm us, we can no longer think clearly, we can no longer empathise with the position of the other person, we become abusive, simplify, accuse, insult, etc. Exactly the same happens in political discourse, on social media, or in traditional media forms. When we are put under stress, pressure, and fear (whether intentionally or not), our capacity for empathy suffers significantly.

Human Animals

What methods are used when empathy is to be reduced? Here, individuals or groups are described as foreign, different, and evil. Notably, there is a lack of differentiation. The people who are to be dehumanised have no good qualities, no understandable motives; we have no common ground with them. They are completely foreign. This is also referred to as “othering”, that is, portraying one or a group of people as completely “other”, with whom we have nothing in common. A very good video on how “othering” can be overcome is this advertisement by a Danish TV station about Danish society.

For a while, I researched the training of people to become torturers, because I wanted to understand how it was possible to have no empathy with people who are in pain. Of course, there are people who generally have very little empathy, but there are additional ways to further reduce our capacity for empathy. These include increasing stress and pressure as well as the gradual dehumanisation of the “victim”.

Perhaps you remember the scene in the film “The Silence of the Lambs”, where the mother of the kidnapped woman makes her televised appeal to the mentally ill serial killer and kidnapper of her adult daughter, repeatedly mentioning her daughter’s name and describing personal traits. The FBI agent and her colleague, who are listening, explain that she does this strategically to make it harder for the killer to kill her daughter, as the mother wants to make him see her as a “person” and not just as an “object” or “thing”. The fact that he perceives her as an object is shown in a conversation between him and the victim, in which he speaks of her in the third person and calls her “it”, for example, saying “It will take the lotion and rub it on its skin.”

The National Socialists systematically dehumanised their opponents and victims. Jewish citizens were called “parasites” and “vermin”, Slavs were referred to as “subhumans”, people with disabilities as “life unworthy of life”, and political opponents as “enemies of the people”, “traitors”, and “pests”.

“This increasing denial of typically human feelings and experiences fits with the assumption that such dehumanisation reduces moral concerns in the run-up to an act of violence, thereby facilitating it”, explain Landry and his colleagues. By depicting Jews as “subhumans” in propaganda, their human dignity was effectively denied, and thus also the protectability of their lives.

(German scientific article “Wie die Nazi-Propaganda Juden dehumanisierte”, referencing the English study: “Dehumanization and mass violence: A study of mental state language in Nazi propaganda (1927–1945)”)

People, with whom empathy is not to be reduced for strategic reasons, are often completely denied their humanity by propaganda. Words like “monster”, “animals”, and “beasts” are then used. Even the word “terrorist” serves this dehumanisation. For political opponents or leaders of hostile states, words like “dictator” or “brutal butcher” are used.

The second aspect – besides dehumanisation – is the focus on the threat posed by the other side: he or she is described as thoroughly hostile and dangerous and portrayed as a threat.

“After the start of the Holocaust, we observe an increase in terms that associate the Jewish population with malice and sinister intentions”, report the historians. Jews were now alleged to seek world domination, actively undermine public health, or otherwise harm the “German people”. “These patterns correspond to a demonisation of the Jews”, says Landry and his team. Accordingly, the Jews put their intellectual abilities entirely at the service of morally reprehensible goals – and thus proved to be “subhuman”. (Source: see above)

Very disturbing recent examples of dehumanisation are the statements made by Israeli politicians and prominent citizens about Palestinians in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank ("We are fighting human animals"), but also in the Ukraine war, where Ukrainian soldiers and politicians refer to Russian soldiers and generally all Russians and pro-Russian Ukrainians as "Orcs" (the half-human monsters from the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy), while Russian soldiers refer to Ukrainian soldiers as "pigs" or "Ukronazis".

Unfortunately, during the Corona crisis – certainly exacerbated by the stress and fear of the population and politicians and the extremely charged crisis atmosphere – there was again a tendency in Germany to strongly devalue and dehumanise fellow citizens. Terms and insults such as "Schwurbler" and "Querdullis" in Germany and “antivaxer” and “covidiots” in the English speaking world, showed how little respect was given to fellow citizens with different opinions on certain political and scientific issues. In particular, people who decided against vaccination faced the full brunt of anger and hatred from politicians, journalists, opinion makers, and many angry citizens. For instance, CSU politician Markus Söder called them "dangerous lunatics", and SPD politician Stefan Weil even referred to them as "social pests" (these and more examples can be found at the German platform “Ich habe mitgemacht”)

One of the low points of the debate in Germany was certainly the statement - which chillingly she has kept up - by author and presenter Sarah Bosetti, who compared the part of the population that had decided against vaccination and spoke out with an appendix (situated in the lower right corner of society as she laughingly added) that could be removed from the social body without anyone missing it.

These quotes show how polarised the rhetoric in the public debate about Corona measures and vaccinations was, and how dehumanisation and discrediting became socially acceptable again. Unfortunately, this trend has not really subsided since the end of the crisis, as this was followed by the Ukraine war, the Gaza war, and a multitude of other crises.

How could this happen? Every schoolchild in Germany learns about the dangers of devaluation and dehumanisation and that these are the precursors to physical and political violence. In recent years, there has also been a growing sensitivity to "violence in language" and "hate speech". How can it be that even, and sometimes especially people who are very aware of these issues (protection of minorities, hate speech), still often resort to these extremely insulting, devaluing, and dehumanising terms when confronted with people of different opinions? And how can they still see themselves as "good people" and "on the right side"; believing they are fighting against "Nazis" and "populists"? How can this internal contradiction be explained?

The explanation can probably be found in the effect of emotions on our language and discourse behaviour rather than in intellectual constructions. It is the simple dynamic of escalation. The more stressed a person is, the more afraid they are, the more they see the world in black and white, divided into friend and foe – the less they are able to differentiate, to process different, contradictory theses simultaneously in their mind, and the more they themselves resort to negative and insulting terms (see above). This is not foreign to me either. For example, if I read or see something on X (formerly Twitter) that breaks my heart and makes my blood boil (currently, for example, the terrible pictures of the killed children in Gaza), my first impulse is also to type the worst and most dehumanising insults against those I consider responsible. How much stronger must this impulse be when someone has personally experienced violence, or it has affected a relative, or someone is re-traumatised by the news?

When the rise of the AfD (Alternative for Germany, German right-wing party) began (around 2016) and with it the fear of the AfD and consequently the discrediting and dehumanisation of AfD politicians and voters, I was appalled by this development and questioned acquaintances and colleagues who reacted most strongly with extremely hateful comments about where this strong emotional reaction came from. I learned that many of them had experienced threats and strong physical violence from neo-Nazi groups in their youth as left-wing or Antifa activists or as part of an alternative youth culture, often in East Germany. Conversely, many AfD politicians, for example, describe their own experiences of violence and threats against themselves and their families by violent Antifa activists, which certainly also influences their insults and aggressive language against the left or what they perceive to be the left.

This is the dehumanisation and devaluation that arises "in the heat of the moment" and happens almost involuntarily. Here, it is up to each of us to be vigilant and not fall into this trap ourselves – no matter how much we consider ourselves to be on the "right" side.

Empathy guidance in reporting

But then there is also the case of manipulation. Here, these effects, both the increase in empathy and the switching off of any empathy, are deliberately triggered. There are certainly many cases where these two elements mix (own emotionality and unrecognised bias with the desire for influence).

We can always recognise which side our politicians and, unfortunately, also our journalists, are on in a conflict by paying attention to whose perspective is chosen, from whose point of view a situation is told, with whom we are allowed and supposed to empathise and with whom we are not. The best current examples are the Ukraine war and the conflict in Gaza. The federal government and thus the entire media landscape in Germany, as always in recent years, are 100 per cent on the side of the USA and therefore of their allies in Ukraine and Israel.

This means that in reports on the war in Ukraine, the perspective of the Ukrainian population and military has been brought to the forefront and reported on almost exclusively for years. Their suffering, their hopes, their perceptions, their points of view, were reported. They were given a face, portrayed with their hobbies, interests, professions, personal traits, etc. The suffering of the Russian-speaking and pro-Russian population in eastern Ukraine and throughout the country, their persecution, the sometimes terrible human rights violations they have suffered, the bombing terror in the years before the war and during the war were only described by alternative journalists. Likewise, Russian soldiers, journalists, and the Russian civilian population have no face and no voice in our media, unless they are dissidents and enemies of Russia like the US journalist Evan Gershkovich, who was recently sentenced to 16 years in prison for espionage, or the now deceased Russian opposition politician Alexei Navalny. A veritable cult of personality is built around them, and they get more cover stories and home stories than Taylor Swift.

Thus, both sides of a conflict are not presented so that German readers/citizens can form their own picture of the situation. Instead, German politicians and the media behave as if Germany itself were at war with an enemy. The conflict is conveyed correspondingly one-sidedly, and it is absolutely clear which side the population's solidarity should be directed towards. The measures even extend to criminal sanctions for dissenting opinions. It is now a criminal offence, for example, to declare support for the Russian military operation by mentioning the letter "Z", while displaying the Ukrainian flag to support the Ukrainian side on social media profiles and even in front of almost all official buildings, town halls, government buildings, ministries, etc., is considered appropriate.

What is achieved by this is the impression that forming one's own opinion is no longer allowed. Of course, this still takes place in people's minds, but it can only be discussed and exchanged publicly in a very limited way. This ensures that there is no reinforcement effect through the media. Additionally, through criminal prohibitions as well as social and professional sanctions and vilifications, a strong "freeze" effect is achieved, meaning people self-censor and no longer freely and openly express their opinions – which also has the desired effect that the group of people who hold an opinion differing from the official line cannot network well with each other and can hardly estimate how many they actually already are.

The Good, the True, the Beautiful

An important role here is also played by images and videos in controlling empathy. All tricks and techniques known from communication psychology and marketing are used to portray one side as beautiful, noble, loving, etc., and the "other side" as ugly, evil, deceitful, etc. Particularly interesting is the use of beauty, i.e., beautiful faces and bodies as an argument for "goodness" and ugliness or deviation from aesthetic norms as an argument for rejecting a person and their political stance or nation.

A good example here is the dehumanising "fat shaming" of Green politician Ricarda Lang by critics, mostly from the politically right-conservative camp, who repeatedly use her weight and body shape as an argument instead of attacking her political position or to "add weight" to such an attack.

Be vigilant

The danger posed by dehumanisation does not need to be reiterated. It is known that dehumanising certain people is always a (conscious or unconscious) precursor to doing something to them – be it genocide, war, or state or non-state repression or violence.

It is important to be sensitised to when this happens. Be alert! Whenever a person or group is dehumanised, we are on the wrong path or being manipulated. And it is also important to pay attention to oneself and not dehumanise the counterpart in one's own anger and excitement – even if it is in the conviction of being right and on the right side (see the slogan "Kill AfD members", as was recently seen on posters in “Pro-Democracy-Demonstrations” in Germany). Do not become what you fight against. Or, as Friedrich Nietzsche so beautifully put it:

"He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster himself. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

So, in conclusion these are my tips:

Pay attention when selective "humanisation" and "dehumanisation" occurs, and consider in which direction your empathy is being steered in such a situation.
Pay attention to your own language in the heat of the moment in these our turbulent and tension-filled times.
Take a deep breath and try (even on X/Twitter) to step out of combat mode, and remember that we are all human beings and must get along with each other in this country and on this planet.

This article first appeared in German on Nachdenkseiten.

(Featured Image: "Drama on a Stobie Pole" by mikecogh is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.)