When I was a child, I noticed that bullies always chose their targets carefully: they preyed upon those least able to resist. This early lesson in aggression revealed itself as more than playground cruelty; it was an expression of cowardice, for the bully seldom risked confrontation with someone equally matched. Yet most children did not intervene. They looked away, too submissive to stand against the threats of violence or humiliation. In that small ecosystem, the aggressive few ruled the passive many.

The same pattern repeats at larger scales. What is visible in the schoolyard emerges again in adult society, where the psychology of aggression and submission shapes corporate boardrooms, political institutions, and global systems of power. Those who learn early that intimidation yields results often ascend into positions of leadership — not because of their wisdom or empathy, but because of their shameless willingness to exploit others. Social psychologists have shown that aggression reinforced in youth often crystallizes into enduring patterns of dominance-seeking behavior in adulthood¹. Meanwhile, the majority, conditioned to compliance, reproduce the role of the “submissive many,” enabling destructive personalities to thrive².

This essay traces the continuum from childhood aggression to systemic power: how the bully archetype manifests in corporate moguls and authoritarian politicians; how the submissive “sheep” mentality perpetuates cycles of dominance; and how these dynamics corrode cooperative society and ecological harmony. By drawing on psychological, sociological, and historical scholarship, we can see how a demoniac society emerges when cowardice, entitlement, and greed become virtues rewarded with wealth and power. The lesson of the playground, then, is not simply anecdotal, but a microcosm of the larger forces that shape our world.

Notes

¹ Dan Olweus, Bullying at School: What We Know and What We Can Do (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 40–42.

² Erich Fromm, Escape from Freedom (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1941), 133–37.

The Psychology of Early Aggression

Aggression in childhood often appears as an ordinary phase of development, yet research shows that persistent patterns of bullying are predictive of later antisocial or dominance-oriented behavior. Dan Olweus, who pioneered systematic study of bullying, demonstrated that children who habitually use aggression to assert control are more likely to grow into adults with authoritarian or exploitative tendencies¹. Such behavior is not mere play; it is an early rehearsal of power that normalizes the use of coercion as a means of gaining advantage.

Psychologists have identified traits that form the personality architecture of habitual aggressors. The so-called “Dark Triad” — narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy — has become a widely used framework for describing individuals who thrive on manipulation, entitlement, and callous exploitation². These traits confer a strategic advantage in competitive environments where social costs are externalized onto others. In effect, the bully of the playground becomes the manager who intimidates subordinates, the mogul who strips communities of resources, or the politician who thrives on fear-mongering.

This evolution is aided by the response of the majority. From childhood onward, groups often reward aggression with submission. Albert Bandura’s social learning theory emphasizes that behaviors observed to yield tangible rewards — status, compliance, material gains — are likely to be repeated and reinforced³. Thus, the aggressor is trained by the passivity of the group: each act of silence or avoidance is received as confirmation that domination is effective. Over time, this learning process does not merely create individual bullies, but fosters a cultural ecology where domination is normalized, paving the way for what might be called a “demoniac society,” one structured around coercion, fear, and the elevation of aggressive personalities into positions of authority.

Notes

¹ Dan Olweus, Bullying at School: What We Know and What We Can Do (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 72–75.

² Delroy L. Paulhus and Kevin M. Williams, “The Dark Triad of Personality: Narcissism, Machiavellianism, and Psychopathy,” Journal of Research in Personality 36, no. 6 (2002): 556–563.

³ Albert Bandura, Social Learning Theory (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1977), 22–26.

The “Sheep” Mentality

If aggression functions as the engine of dominance, submission operates as its enabling counterpart. From childhood onward, most individuals adopt a strategy of compliance in the face of threats, preferring avoidance to confrontation. While this response may serve short-term survival — sparing the individual from immediate harm — it gradually produces a culture in which power accrues to the aggressor. The majority, in essence, become the pasture upon which domination feeds.

The social psychology of submission has been documented extensively. Solomon Asch’s mid-twentieth-century experiments demonstrated how individuals conform to a group’s false judgment even when the correct answer is obvious¹. Stanley Milgram’s obedience studies revealed an even darker dimension: the willingness of ordinary people to inflict apparent harm on others when instructed by an authority figure². These findings underscore the fact that passivity is not merely avoidance of conflict but a patterned behavior that supports the aggressor’s ascendancy.

In political terms, Erich Fromm described this tendency as an “escape from freedom,” a psychic refuge sought by those overwhelmed by responsibility and uncertainty³. By submitting to authority — whether the classroom bully, the corporate boss, or the authoritarian politician — the majority unburdens themselves of agency, even as they perpetuate their own subordination. The cycle is self-reinforcing: aggressors interpret silence and compliance as confirmation of their power, while the submissive majority internalizes its own helplessness.

The “sheep” mentality is therefore not a neutral condition but a generative one. It creates the conditions under which the most aggressive personalities can ascend without check. The demoniac society is not built by the bully alone but co-constructed by the crowd that averts its gaze, choosing obedience and conformity over resistance.

Notes

¹ Solomon E. Asch, Social Psychology (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1952), 450–58.

² Stanley Milgram, Obedience to Authority (New York: Harper & Row, 1974), 3–10.

³ Erich Fromm, Escape from Freedom (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1941), 133–41.

From Playground to Boardroom and Statehouse

The transition from childhood aggression to adult dominance is less a rupture than a scaling-up of the same psychological patterns. What begins in the schoolyard finds reinforcement in corporate and political life, where competitive structures reward the shameless and aggressive. In such environments, the capacity to coerce, manipulate, or intimidate others is rebranded as “leadership” or “decisiveness.”

Thorstein Veblen’s early critique of industrial society described the leisure class as a stratum whose wealth and power were founded not upon productive contribution but upon the conspicuous exploitation of others¹. This logic persists in the figure of the billionaire mogul whose empire rests on monopolizing resources, crushing competitors, and externalizing social costs. The ruthless pursuit of profit and status mirrors the psychology of the playground bully: domination rewarded by the silence or compliance of those who cannot resist.

Politics, too, provides fertile ground for aggression. The “authoritarian personality,” first studied in detail by Theodor Adorno and his colleagues in the aftermath of World War II, identified traits of submission to authority, aggression toward outgroups, and a preference for rigid hierarchies². These characteristics often elevate leaders who appeal to fear, promise protection, and demand obedience. The aggressive politician, like the corporate mogul, thrives not in spite of the public’s passivity but because of it.

The contemporary boardroom and statehouse thus become arenas where the lessons of the playground are applied with higher stakes. Aggressive personalities, honed by early successes in coercion, exploit the structural vulnerabilities of societies that reward domination over cooperation. The bully has not disappeared; he has only changed attire, moving from schoolyard bravado to executive suites and legislative chambers, while the same cowardice and submission of the majority continue to nourish his rise.

Notes

¹ Thorstein Veblen, The Theory of the Leisure Class (New York: Macmillan, 1899), 23–29.

² Theodor W. Adorno, Else Frenkel-Brunswik, Daniel Levinson, and Nevitt Sanford, The Authoritarian Personality (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1950), 222–31.

Consequences for Cooperative Society and Ecology

The rise of aggressive personalities into positions of influence is not merely a moral failure; it has profound consequences for both society and the natural world. When domination becomes the organizing principle, cooperation is reinterpreted as weakness, and fear displaces trust as the foundation of social life. The bully’s logic, once normalized, reshapes entire institutions.

At the level of community, aggression corrodes the bonds of solidarity. Sociologists such as Robert Putnam have noted the decline of civic trust and the erosion of cooperative networks in societies where self-interest and exploitation dominate the cultural ethos¹. In these environments, individuals become increasingly isolated, perceiving neighbors as rivals rather than partners. The bully-leader thrives in such conditions, reinforcing divisions and manipulating fear to sustain his position.

The ecological consequences are equally severe. Aggressive economic practices externalize costs onto the environment: deforestation, pollution, overfishing, and climate destabilization. Garrett Hardin’s concept of the “tragedy of the commons” illustrates how unchecked exploitation by self-interested actors undermines shared ecological resources². When aggressive leaders prioritize short-term gain, the natural systems upon which society depends are degraded, threatening long-term survival.

Beyond the material, there is also a spiritual and moral dimension. In religious and philosophical traditions, societies driven by greed, arrogance, and violence are often described as “demoniac” — a term found, for example, in the Bhagavad Gītā, where the demonic nature is characterized by boundless desire and contempt for others³. In this sense, a society that rewards aggression over cooperation becomes not only unstable but ethically inverted, celebrating traits that corrode both human dignity and ecological harmony.

Notes

¹ Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2000), 27–31.

² Garrett Hardin, “The Tragedy of the Commons,” Science 162, no. 3859 (1968): 1243–48.

³ Bhagavad Gītā, trans. Barbara Stoler Miller (New York: Bantam, 1986), 16.4–9.

Counterforces and Alternatives

If the psychology of aggression explains the rise of demoniac power, then the survival of humane society depends upon its counterforces. History shows that domination is never total: alongside the aggressors and the submissive, there exist those who resist, organize, and cultivate cooperation.

One form of resistance is the exercise of civil courage — the willingness of individuals to defy aggression even at personal cost. Hannah Arendt argued that the banality of evil thrives on passivity, and that the refusal to comply, however small, interrupts the machinery of domination¹. In psychological terms, such acts disrupt the reinforcement loop that rewards aggression, signaling that coercion will not always yield submission.

Nonviolent resistance movements provide another example of how societies can resist aggression without replicating its logic. Gandhi’s satyagraha and Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of nonviolent protest demonstrated that coordinated, collective defiance could undermine regimes built on fear². These strategies rely not on mirroring aggression but on mobilizing solidarity, drawing power from moral legitimacy and shared purpose.

From the perspective of evolutionary theory, cooperation is not merely a moral choice but a survival strategy. Robert Axelrod’s work on the “evolution of cooperation” showed how reciprocity and trust can stabilize group dynamics even in competitive environments³. In biology, mutualism and symbiosis offer further evidence that life flourishes through interdependence rather than domination. Applied to human society, these insights suggest that alternative systems — cooperatives, participatory democracies, community-based economies — can counterbalance the corrosive effects of aggression.

Finally, psychology itself points toward remedies. Emotional intelligence, empathy, and prosocial behavior can be cultivated and rewarded. When leadership is redefined not as domination but as stewardship, the traits that once propelled bullies to the top can be displaced by those that nurture cooperation and resilience. Such cultural shifts require intention, education, and reinforcement, but they demonstrate that the trajectory toward a demoniac society is neither inevitable nor irreversible.

Notes

¹ Hannah Arendt, Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (New York: Viking Press, 1963), 252–54.

² Gene Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action (Boston: Porter Sargent, 1973), 64–70.

³ Robert Axelrod, The Evolution of Cooperation (New York: Basic Books, 1984), 7–12.

Choose Your Destiny...

The lesson first learned on the playground — that bullies prey upon the weak while the majority remains silent — is more than a childhood memory. It is a microcosm of how power functions in a society where aggression is rewarded and submission is normalized. The child who discovers that intimidation yields obedience is rehearsing the very dynamics that later shape corporate empires and political regimes.

Yet the persistence of this pattern should not be mistaken for inevitability. Scholars of psychology and history remind us that domination relies on the compliance of the many, and that even small acts of resistance can disrupt cycles of aggression. As Fromm noted, the attraction of submission is itself a defense against freedom, but it can be unlearned when communities reclaim responsibility and agency¹. Cooperative models — whether in neighborhoods, workplaces, or ecological stewardship — show that alternative trajectories exist.

A society that rewards arrogance, greed, and aggression risks becoming what ancient traditions warned against: a demoniac order, powerful in appearance but corrosive to both its people and its environment. The antidote is neither more aggression nor naive idealism, but the cultivation of courage, empathy, and solidarity. Only when the submissive majority refuses to accept domination as the natural order can the bully’s rise be halted. The fate of a cooperative society and the survival of ecological harmony alike depend on this refusal.

Notes

¹ Erich Fromm, Escape from Freedom (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1941), 168–73.

om tat sat