How to stop bullying — part 1 — the correct, but politically incorrect way

The victim, the bully, the animal

Here’s a hard fact — bullying destroys lives.

But here’s an even harder fact — the power to stop bullying lies in the hands of the victims.

Conventional, or politically correct, thinking on bullying assumes that people who are bullied are innocent victims, and that the responsibility to prevent bullying lies anywhere but with the victim. That it’s the responsibility of parents, teachers, schools, society, or the legal system to create safe environments for kids; that it’s all down to education and communication to help children understand that bullying is a bad thing, and how we should treat everyone with respect and compassion; how we can’t treat violence with violence; and how we should learn to turn the other cheek. All these things sound perfectly reasonable.

But bullying hasn’t got much to do with what we would conventionally regard as reasonable or unreasonable.

Bullying, I’ll reiterate, destroys lives. I’ve seen it first-hand. It’s brutal, horrible, and painful. One of the reasons for sharing these insights and ruminations is due to my own experience helping youngsters, as a teacher and boxing trainer, to overcome bullying, and the horrific effects I witnessed growing up on young people due to their lack of mentoring and training in how to deal with their tormentors.

Empowering the victim

The hardest pill to swallow about bullying is that the best cure lies with the victim themselves.

Specifically, the idea that most victims do not realise that the power to change dominance dynamics — essentially what bullying amounts to — indeed lies with them. Most approaches are careful not to incorporate such dynamics, as it opens the victim-blaming can of worms. However, to say the power to change dominance dynamics lies with victims is meant absolutely in the spirit of empowerment. The key is to ensure those dynamics, strategies, and behaviours are well taught and young people trained in them (I will use the term “boys” a lot for convenience, but all this applies just as well to girls).

Of course, the substance of any message is very much dependent on how it's delivered. One of the reasons for avoiding this victim-empowering approach is that it's counterintuitive for parents, educators, and adults in general. Apart from the odd father or mother who tells their children to “give as good as you get, and fight back if and only if attacked,” most parents have been socialised to tow the school line or policy. They are often unknowingly sold the politically correct mantra that schools must do more to tackle bullying, while avoiding the thorny problem of victims and what could be done to empower them.

We assume that since the victim is innocent and unfairly suffering (which, of course, they are), we must conclude they’re not in a position to prevent the bullying.

To lay all the onus at the victim's feet is thought to only add to the suffering and injustice being experienced by them — in short, it’s perceived as perverse. Or, to act to empower the victim is to glorify or resort to aggression and violence to resolve conflicts — and surely, it’s thought, educated and civilised people shouldn't do that. Thus, it’s concluded, the victim must be protected and shielded. Yet, most often, attempts to protect and shield victims in this way are counterproductive, outright fail, or even exacerbate the bullying in question.

I’ve seen and experienced bullying in many guises and forms: myself as a youngster at primary and secondary school, and later as a teacher and boxing trainer. I was one of the lucky ones. While I did personally experience bullying, it was never to the extent I saw others being bullied. I somehow, through hap and circumstance, never became that hapless victim. I often fought back, stood my ground, and apart from the odd case, came out the other side mostly unscathed. This would have been even easier and more effective, I argue, if educators, parents, and society had sent a clearer message that served to empower the victims and not the bullies.

Thus, in what follows, I argue for the onus to be put on the victim, with the proviso that the onus is also on parents, institutions, and society at large to empower victims and not the bullies — to support the victim in their battle, rather than appease the bullies. Appeasement just plays into the hands of the bullies and bullying behaviour at large. This does not exclude the possibility of empathy and opportunities for reform on the side of bullies — but none of this should be at the expense of the victim's suffering and the harm to their future life prospects.

This is not a popular opinion and doesn’t align well with the way people have come to be socialised regarding aggression, fighting, and violence, and their counterparts — meekness, pacifism, and peace. These qualities must coexist; in fact, they only make sense when they do. We can see this when we delve into the roots of bullying as a behaviour.

The skins of our animal past — the paradox of human nature

Bullying stems from the remnants of our animal past and — very much alive — animal instincts. People understandably retort that we’ve long shed our animal skins and adorned the trappings of reasoned, civilised beings. This is certainly the case. One only has to look at the remarkable achievements of advanced societies: from complex institutions and advanced technologies to mass cooperation and highly sophisticated social structures that would be impossible without peaceful coexistence. There is abundant evidence showing that humans have transcended their brute, animal origins. This is a fact to be cherished.

However, being advanced, rational, and civilised does not mean that humans no longer have primitive drives, animal-type hierarchical behaviours, or raw emotions. These remain deeply ingrained and continue to shape human behaviour. Ignoring this reality can create dissonance between what we claim to be and what we actually are.

To be clear, humans are both highly rational and instinctive, both civilised and primitive. Individuals can lead a civilised life one moment and commit heinous acts the next. The point is not to glorify the darker aspects of human nature, but to acknowledge them and teach children how to live in harmony with both light and dark. If this opportunity is missed, the need for these contradictions to be balanced does not disappear.

Modern history provides abundant evidence. Wars, colonialism, genocides, and mass atrocities — from The Rape of Nanking (1937) to the Holocaust (1941–45), the Wołyn massacre (1943–44), Soviet-era mass murders, and the Bangladesh massacre (1971), not to mention what's happening in places like Sudan now — illustrate humanity’s capacity for grotesque behaviour. These acts are not merely animalistic; they often involve premeditation, showing that humans can commit even more egregious acts than any non-human animal.

The truth is often paradoxical, elusive, and inconvenient. Humans have evolved to be civilised, advanced, and reasoned, yet this capacity exists alongside primitive, instinctive drives. Both aspects coexist and must be recognised to understand behaviour like bullying.

Why the politically correct approach is misguided — yet understandable

Let me be clear: I’m sympathetic to those who uphold the politically correct approach that bullying should be confronted through dialogue, education, or peer intervention, and that the victim should be protected and shielded. Violence and aggression should not be mindlessly applied. After all, it is not unreasonable to desire the less jagged path.

Indeed, global evidence shows that many initiatives in schools to prevent bullying through politically correct means — such as Finland’s KiVa Anti-Bullying Program or the Olweus Bullying Prevention Program (OBPP) — have been effective. This is fantastic. Yet, I argue it does not remove the need for a broad canvas of approaches to tackle all kinds of bullying in all contexts.

Sometimes, a different remedy is needed. Often, these remedies become available simply through making dialogue open and removing taboo. For decades, depression was taboo and hardly discussed. Today, most people have a set of self-help tools for coping: staying active, engaging in community, participating in group sport, sleeping well, and sharing burdens with trusted friends or mental health professionals. These things now seem obvious, but a few decades ago they were not.

Similarly, aggression, violence, and dominance remain taboo. Most of us deny their healthy role in daily life, except for those who encounter them regularly — the military, martial arts trainers, and some academics and psychologists committed to understanding human nature.

The drive to be politically correct, I argue, is a response to ward off the very behaviours — aggression, violence, dominance — that enable bullying in the first place. Denying these behaviours misses the opportunity to teach victims to develop a healthy relationship with them. Victims who learn to understand and channel aggression, violence, and dominance can un-become victims. Demonising these behaviours, as many educators and parents still do, deprives victims of the traits that could help them survive bullying. Empowering victims is not synonymous with promoting mindless violence; it is about control, confidence, and self-defence.

Correctly channelled, aggression, violence, and dominance are no less constructive than compassion, kindness, or love.

The roots of bullying

At its core, bullying is a dominating behaviour carried out through emotional, mental, or physical aggression. It is influenced by factors such as physical size, height-to-weight ratio, actual or perceived strength, tolerance for violence, emotional resilience, social status, peer alliances, and popularity. A bully usually leverages these advantages to assert oppressive or abusive power.

The purpose of this behaviour is to achieve control, dominance, and status, often gaining emotional gratification by inducing suffering and submission in others. Sometimes this manifests as targeting a child for being different, weaker, or disadvantaged. To a mature adult, this behaviour may seem senseless; children, however, are still developing a sense of how to exercise strength, dominance, and emotion in a mature way.

Most bullies originate from households with high dysfunction: poor discipline, guidance, or structure, or exposure to bullying behaviour from parents, siblings, or relatives. These behaviours are often imitated or cathartically released by the child.

This combination — dysfunctional upbringing, physical or emotional advantage, and underdeveloped empathy — produces individuals who wield power over others, finding fear, intimidation, and submission both familiar and cathartic.

Bullying is corrupted and unhealthy dominance behaviour

Dominance behaviour is common in animal groups. It serves to assert leadership, maintain territorial control, or regulate access to resources and mating opportunities. In such groups, dominance is usually seen as fair if the leader is competent and just. Tyrannical behaviour, by contrast, invites challenge and potential removal from power.

Bullying, however, is dominance gone wrong.

Dominance that has not matured into responsible leadership, or that emerges in dysfunctional social contexts, is simply corrupted power. Bullies act outside the framework of legitimate group hierarchies, motivated by self-interest rather than fairness or the welfare of the group.

This mirrors dysfunctional families, where tyrannical parents rule through fear. Children growing up under oppression may normalize these behaviours and reproduce them as bullies themselves.

This does not remove the space for empathy for bullies. But empathy should only emerge after the victim has freed themselves. Empathy must not come at the cost of the victim’s well-being; it arises when bullies can demonstrate remorse and victims assert their agency.

Lord of the Flies — no picnic

I cannot discuss strategies for dealing with bullying — which I will cover in Part 2 — without sharing my own observations.

Hollywood would have us believe that life is linear, with clear heroes and villains. Real life is messy, chaotic, and rarely makes sense immediately. Understanding it can take years of reflection, discussion, and introspection.

At my British all-boys secondary school (Wheelers Lane Boys School), bullying occurred in every form. The boys were brutal, ruthless, and primitive. They made Lord of the Flies look like a picnic. Politically correct thinking might suggest that I should wish I had done more to stop it, but my first feeling looking back is that I loved every minute of it, and secondly I felt powerless to intervene. It was an environment that made me feel viscerally alive. My only regret is that we weren’t taught more.

Boys physically, verbally, and emotionally brutalised each other — especially the weaker boys. I saw a boy with eye-glasses, whose only “crime” was trying to be friendly, punched so hard that his glasses shattered and his face gushed with blood. I saw boys have their heads smashed off tables, walls, and doors as though it were child’s play. I witnessed prolonged verbal assaults leaving boys traumatised and impotent. An amputee boy, with one leg, at our school endured the most sustained bullying I have ever seen, before or since.

Many of the boys bullied in this way were left scarred for life. I have spoken to former students who confirm this. Even the amputee boy, I suspect, may have lost his faith and trust in people at a very young age. Psychologists and psychotherapists will attest to the trauma inflicted by childhood bullying.

Boys are brutal — and they love it. Does that make me a sadist?

Why did I love my bloody, often literal, school experiences, even while witnessing relentless bullying and enduring beatings myself?

The uncomfortable truth: as boys, we were capable of sadistic pleasure. We could derive enjoyment from others’ pain.

Why? Partly, this stems from ancestral instincts that survive in our psyche. These instincts shaped human survival for millions of years before Homo sapiens emerged. Our primate ancestors were aggressive, violent, and predatory — survival required comfort with these behaviours.

As humans evolved into small tribal societies, these instincts were moderated by social norms and communal constraints. Life required coexistence, fairness, and balance. Ethnographic evidence shows that while around 90% of tribal societies engaged in intra-group conflict or warfare, they also relied on cooperation and communal norms. Civilised behaviours, as we understand them, represent less than 0.1% of human history.

Our neocortex enabled sophisticated thought, but also allowed sadistic tendencies to emerge. Without the structure of tribal societies, sadistic instincts can run unchecked. Experiencing brutality can awaken these primal instincts, producing pleasure in observing violence or aggression. This is not because aggression is inherently “good,” but because it is familiar, stimulating, and rewarding to our ancestral wiring.

Where from Sadism?

In our ancestral environment, it paid to be comfortable with aggression and violence when necessary. Observing these behaviours now can be comforting or cathartic — so long as we are not the victim. Our survival reward mechanisms respond positively when we see someone suffer without it affecting our own safety.

However, when these behaviours manifest outside the norms of tribal contexts — without communal constraints or traditions to harness them — they can become maladaptive and sadistic. Bullying, and taking pleasure in others’ suffering, is a maladaptive expression of dominance, aggression, and emotional detachment. Sadism may once have offered survival advantages, but in modern contexts, it is socially destructive and harmful.

This also explains why violence, brutality, and dominance are prominent in TV, films, and video games. Observing aggression provides catharsis and familiarity without personal risk. Gangster culture, for example, echoes tribal structures, which may explain its particular appeal. Sadistic behaviour, by contrast, is less widely enjoyed because societies historically punish it — though it persists.

Understanding sadistic impulses is crucial to empowering victims. Strategies to combat bullying must address the underlying sadistic tendencies, teaching victims to assert control, resist domination, and regain agency before empathy for the bully is appropriate.

Parting thought…

I wish I could say I saw justice in acts of bullying. I cannot. Most bullying was simply domineering, oppressive, and sadistic. Boys did not care how, why, or how much others suffered, so long as it wasn’t them — including myself. Often, the pleasure I took was relief that it wasn’t me, not enjoyment in another’s pain.

This uncomfortable truth reinforces the importance of empowering victims: giving them strategies to reclaim control, assert themselves, and resist bullying effectively. By confronting and addressing sadistic tendencies, we give victims the tools to survive, recover, and thrive.

See you in Part 2…

Selected bibliography

Buss, David M. (1995). The Handbook of Evolutionary Psychology. Basic Books.

Chang, Iris. (1997). The Rape of Nanking. Basic Books.

Eldredge, John. (2001). Wild At Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man's Soul. Thomas Nelson.

Greene, Robert. (2018). The Laws of Human Nature. Viking Press.

Harari, Yuval Noah. (2015). Sapiens. Harper.

Johnson, Robert. A. (1974, 1989). He: Understanding Masculine Psychology. Harper and Row.

Johnson, Robert. A. (1991). Owning Your Own Shadow. HarperSanFrancisco.

Peterson, Jordan. (2018). 12 Rules for Life. Random House Canada.

Wright, Robert. (1994). The Moral Animal. Vintage Books.