The Mask of Hypocrisy

BY SOFO ARCHON

I have a basic principle in life: to be true to myself and others. And yet, sometimes I’m called a hypocrite.

When I write about ending the ongoing pillage of Earth, some people call me a hypocrite because I use a smartphone and a computer. When I write about ending world hunger, some people call me a hypocrite because I don’t donate most of my money to the poor. When I write about ending racism or sexism, some people call me a hypocrite because I do it from the position of a privileged white male.

Such claims don’t affect me, for I know in my heart that I want to see the end of all the above, and that I do what I feel is right to help achieve that. But I find a serious problem with the dismissive attitude behind those claims, which is that they not only discourage social change, but also reflect a myopic understanding of the nature, complexity, and depth of the crises our civilization is faced with.

As I’ve written time and time again, we’re all immersed in a sick culture with toxic values, institutions, and systems. And whether we admit it or not, everyone is (more or less) bound to this culture, and hence to its sickness. For example, in this culture, to some extent we all need to be competitive and destructive. Would you call someone a hypocrite for wanting peace and unity, yet participating in our global economy, which is inherently antisocial? Would you call someone a hypocrite for opposing environmental pollution, yet commuting to work in a fossil-fuel-powered car? Lastly, would you call someone a hypocrite for speaking out against sexism and racism, yet working in a sweatshop run by a corporation that profits from the mass exploitation of women and people of color?

Back in 2012, I was in search of a job, and after much effort, the only one I could land was that of a video editor for a corporate TV channel. Part of my job was to edit commercials, as well as videos that would play during the news. I hated that job, for I despised both manipulative advertising and the propaganda machine that mainstream TV is. Yet I had to somehow earn a living, and I couldn’t find a better alternative at the time. Many of my colleagues were in a similar situation. Does that mean we were all hypocrites who secretly wanted to support corporate television?

If the above are examples of hypocrisy, then every activist, social critic, or anti-establishment individual is a hypocrite. But when the word “hypocrite” is used in this manner, its meaning becomes distorted, muddying the waters of communication. To clear them, it would be helpful to remind ourselves of its meaning, as well as its origin. According to Merriam-Webster:

“The word hypocrite ultimately came into English from the Greek word hypokrites, which means ‘an actor’ or ‘a stage player.’ The Greek word itself is a compound noun: it’s made up of two Greek words that literally translate as ‘an interpreter from underneath.’ That bizarre compound makes more sense when you know that the actors in ancient Greek theater wore large masks to mark which character they were playing, and so they interpreted the story from underneath their masks.

The Greek word took on an extended meaning to refer to any person who was wearing a figurative mask and pretending to be someone or something they were not. This sense was taken into medieval French and then into English, where it showed up with its earlier spelling, ypocrite, in 13th-century religious texts to refer to someone who pretends to be morally good or pious in order to deceive others. (Hypocrite gained its initial h- by the 16th century.)”

A hypocrite, therefore, is someone phony, someone who wears a personality mask to present a fake image of themselves. And there are certainly plenty of people among us who act like that. In fact, I’d argue that we all act hypocritically at times (myself included, despite the basic life principle that I mentioned in the first paragraph of this article), for occasionally we all hide ourselves behind the veil of pretense.

If we want to live in an open, honest, and high-trust society, it’s important to point out hypocrisy as soon as we detect it—especially when it comes from those in positions of political power—for openness, honesty, and trust never go hand in hand with lying and deception. Before doing so, however, we need to be extra careful to distinguish hypocritical behavior from non-hypocritical behavior. Otherwise, we risk accusing honest people of being dishonest. If, for example, we call someone a hypocrite merely for engaging in the toxic system/culture that they want to change (as in the examples I gave above), this would not only mischaracterize who they are (since they have to engage in it, at least in part), but would also be counterproductive to their efforts. Such people need encouragement and support to become effective agents of change, not blame and shame for not being able to do better.

Once we’ve detected someone’s hypocritical behavior and feel the urge to point it out to them or to others, it’s important to be clear about what our intentions are. Do they come from a place of love and compassion, or from judgment and blame? People who are chronic hypocrites are, for the most part, deeply hurt individuals who have learned to navigate life through the constant use of lies and deception. Hypocrisy is an emotional defense mechanism they have adopted to protect themselves from experiencing further pain. Think of the times you were dishonest or pretentious in your life. I bet that in most cases you felt afraid, right?

Behind our hypocrisy usually lies a great fear: the fear of vulnerability. When we open ourselves to others and let them see our true colors, we become vulnerable, for we expose our weaknesses (along with our strengths), which others might ridicule, condemn, or use against us. If, therefore, we want to see people being more honest, we need to create a space of trust, love, and care—a space that makes them feel embraced with their flaws and imperfections, even while we’re pointing out their hypocrisy. Otherwise, we risk achieving the opposite of what we want: causing more fear within them and thus intensifying their emotional need to stay hidden behind the mask of hypocrisy.

Now, you might argue that not everyone pretends out of fear. Some people do so in order to gain social status, financial wealth, political dominance, and so on, and therefore deserve neither our love nor our compassion. Rather, they deserve our hate and contempt. They are people who should be shamed and punished. A popular example of such people is politicians (when you hear the word hypocrite, what comes first to your mind? For me, it’s always politicians).

In this case, I’d say that politicians are dishonest mainly out of fear too: the fear of being insignificant, insecure, or powerless. Why else would they strive to gain so much fame, money, and power? It’s because of a dreadful emotional void that they are trying to fill, not realizing that they are using the wrong means. (Of course, not every politician has such aims—there are a few who prioritize the well-being of the world over the gratification of their ego—but that’s not the general case.)

To better understand hypocrisy, we also need to look into the social conditions that give rise to it. Otherwise, we might try to deal with it at the level of symptoms without addressing its root causes. For instance, we might fight against politicians in order to remove them from their positions of power, only to soon see others taking their place. What if the political game as we know it today is based on hypocrisy? What if it incentivizes hypocrisy and rewards those who are best at it?

If that’s the case (which is, for obvious reasons that I won’t bother detailing here), then hypocritical politicians are simply a natural outgrowth of a hypocritical political system. The same logic can be applied to all the other systems and institutions that exist in our society. Take the economic system, for example, in which businesses that are better at deception (through marketing and other means) often earn the highest profits. Or take the school system, where students are coerced into acting in certain ways in order to be rewarded with grades rather than punished by them.

Hell, our entire civilization is built on a hypocrisy—the hypocrisy of so-called progress. We see ourselves as the masters of nature who, through technology and culture, have managed to rise above and beyond the rest of life. We think of ourselves as the most benign and intelligent species on Earth (we’ve even named ourselves Homo sapiens, “the wise man”), yet no other species is nearly as competitive, acquisitive, and violent as we are. But we don’t want to hear this truth, lest it shatter our comforting illusions. So we suppress it deep within the unconscious of our collective psyche. As a result, we raise our children within the hypocrisy we call normalcy, thus perpetuating our belief in our superiority.

To some extent, we were all conditioned as children to be pretentious in order to be considered “good” boys and girls, to be accepted and validated by our culture—to be “civilized.” Which brings me to the last point I want to make: often, we are quick to point fingers at the hypocrites around us—to blame them, accuse them, and judge them—and the reason for doing so is to distract ourselves from our own hypocrisy, which we are unwilling to admit. As is usually the case, instead of facing our inner demons, we project them onto other people, who then become our external enemies. That makes us feel relieved, at least temporarily, because it pulls our attention away from the “enemy” within.

The hypocrisy that we experience in the outside world is nothing but a reflection of our collective state of being. Therefore, to deal with it effectively, we need to look deep inside ourselves and heal it at its source. At the same time, we need to hold space for others to heal as well, and to redesign our social structures so that they do not systemically produce hypocrisy, as they do today.

Then we won’t cling to our masks anymore. Rather, we’ll want to remove them from our faces and expose our naked selves under the radiating sun—the sun of truth and honesty. And after a long, long time, the warm presence of trust, intimacy, and belonging will at last be felt again.