The ones who unjustly scorn others are ofttimes lesser than those they scorn.
This is a realization I’ve come to recently based on some personal experiences and observations. The purpose of writing this piece is to explore discrimination, superiority, and moral self-transcendence through these experiences.
An Argument in a Group Chat
Recently, I joined an INTJ WeChat group, and some of the female members kept using terms like “males” or “Chinese men”(a derogatory term) in a way that annoyed me. I pointed out that these terms were both racially and gender-discriminatory insults. Then, several women ganged up on me, saying I didn’t understand their context and was overly sensitive about language. Things didn’t end well, and I left the group.
Moral Lowlands and Jungle Law
This is certainly not the first time I’ve faced this kind of baseless discrimination. I was born in a rural village in Henan, a moral lowland and the bottom of the hierarchy of contempt. I’m so used to facing discrimination that it’s practically second nature to me. But this issue goes far beyond just political correctness—it’s been a lifelong moral struggle for me.
The thing I despise most in life is the arrogance of privilege. Some of my classmates, after moving to Beijing (or Shanghai), feel completely justified in enjoying the privileges that come with it. I can’t do that. I can never forget this one thing that’s always been in my heart: the urge to smash that privilege.
What really harms people at the bottom is not the lack of resources, but the lack of morals (or collective wisdom). People seem to live only in the present, with no concern for the future; they only care themselves, with no regard for others. And I can hardly claim to be a pure, untainted soul. For a long time, I too subscribed to the law of the jungle, embracing the morality of a predator. My strategy in a world full of self-interest was to be even more ruthless, to outsmart them at their own game.
But the consequence of this is that you lose the right to criticize those who discriminate against you with their privilege. What makes you different from them? If their arrogance is based on power, status, wealth, or the privileges of education, and yours is based on your intelligence and talent—are these really that different? Aren’t both forms of privilege largely innate and difficult to change through effort alone?
This contradiction has always weighed on my mind, making it impossible for me to fully embrace the “survival of the fittest” mentality or to indulge in cynicism.
Superiority and Inner Worth
By the time I turned thirty, I’d learned to see things differently. When my mother came to visit me in Shanghai and was ignored by a shop assistant in a mall, I might have gotten angry in the past, but at that moment, it suddenly felt pointless. It was just a reflection of their own smallness.
Humans are creatures that seek superiority, and whatever you take pride in reflects the height of your character. If your sense of superiority is based on things that have little to do with your own will or effort—like race, gender, or background—or on shallow items like money, luxury goods, or an expensive lifestyle, it only suggests the shallowness of your inner worth. You’re like a natural object, simply drifting with the flow of life.
What gives human beings moral worth is our defiance of and divergence from natural laws. This is where our free will and capabilities truly shine. Thus, moral judgment is highly individual. You need the full context of a person’s life to form a judgment—it’s not something that can be determined by just one outcome or factor.
For example, imagine a kid from a poor, rural area with limited access to education and an average IQ of 100 who manages to get into a regular college. Now compare that to a second-generation student from a wealthy family in a major city like New York or London, with an IQ of 140, who’s had top-tier education from an early age and gets into an Ivy League school without putting in much effort. Which of these achievements is more impressive and worthy of respect?
You might already sense that it comes down to percentages—how much they’ve achieved relative to what their circumstances would allow. Only then do we establish a shared basis for moral evaluation between people. Otherwise, what’s the point in comparing two individuals with vastly different starting points and conditions? If someone has already maximized their potential and made full use of everything within their control, do the results—whether success or failure—really matter anymore?
Moral Perfection
The previous discussion focused on how we evaluate people based on their achievements and external goals, which is the standard we use to judge greatness. But when we shift our attention to how people interact with others and ask what makes a person “good,” this standard becomes much more complicated and nuanced.
It’s hard to respect those who see themselves as superior to others. The more people try to show off their superiority, the more it often backfires.
For instance, consider the women I mentioned earlier who mock “Chinese men” and boast about no longer dating Asian men. In my mind, though, I can’t help but think: dating men from other races hasn’t taught you how to treat people equally or fairly. You’re no different from those you ridicule.
Or take the time I was chatting on Clubhouse with a group of Indians, and they proudly talked about how India is the world’s largest democracy. But what I was thinking was, democracy doesn’t guarantee you always do the right thing or stand up for justice. When I asked if most Indians supported Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the conversation became awkwardly silent, and they mumbled something about being “neutral.”
Another example is my support for the causes of Hong Kong and Taiwan. But after repeatedly seeing posts on social media where people from these regions mock mainland Chinese, my support remains, but my respect fades.
All these experiences that trigger my disgust seem to hint at a deeper moral truth. This is reflected in the saying I came up with earlier: people who unjustly discriminate against others are often smaller than those they look down on. After all, you’re likely no different from the people you discriminate against, but by showing prejudice, you’ve added an extra layer of arrogance.
If you expand this idea further, you’ll see that everything seems to point toward a perfect circle.
If the standard by which we measure greatness is how high a person can rise—where we admire grand and extraordinary achievements—then in the moral realm, perfection seems to be the opposite. Moral perfection lies in treating everyone fairly, like a perfect circle. Can you imagine if Christ only favored a select group of people and abandoned the rest? Would he still have the same moral authority?
What defines your moral worth and character is not how high you elevate yourself or how strong your sense of superiority is. The true measure lies in your shortcomings. If you view certain people as untouchable or beneath you, it’s as if a part of you has also become worthless. I don’t fully understand the principle behind this yet, but it seems that all of our moral instincts point in this direction.
Reflections on Guilt
Take, for instance, the recent case of the Japanese elementary school student murdered in Shenzhen. Many overseas Chinese on Twitter condemned the killer and even declared they wanted to distance themselves from Chinese people. While this desire to disassociate is understandable, something still feels off.
What exactly feels wrong? It’s the fact that this attitude misses the truth. The truth is, when confronting guilt, none of us can fully absolve ourselves, because we all share responsibility for the wrongs of others.
Each of us is guilty in everything before everyone, and I most of all.
—Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
The world is one great whole, and each individual is like a cell within it. You cannot fully separate yourself from responsibility, even if we all have different roles in this world. This is why any understanding that falls short of this feels morally uncomfortable. You might partially agree with the idea, but you’ll always sense that something is missing.
Practicing Equality
Practice the belief that everyone is your equal. No one is inferior, no one is superior.
I know this is difficult. How can I treat those who insult and harm me with the same consistency? And there will always be people I admire and others I despise—how can I pretend they are all the same and erase these differences in character?
I don’t have a clear answer either. What I propose is a “15% Rule”: no matter how great the differences may seem, all people share at least 85% in common. Those striking differences we see between people really only account for 15%. No matter how much you dislike or disregard someone, preserve at least 85% of your respect for them, if only for the 85% you share with them as fellow human beings.
Note:
Where does the 15% figure come from? It’s based on a rule of thumb I’ve developed after reflecting on several big issues lately. For example: How much free will do people really have? Are we primarily shaped by our environment? Can people change, and if so, how much? What percentage of people are truly able to break free from stereotypes? In my experience, the answer is much lower than we might assume. In many ways, people are largely determined by external factors—about 85%—including genetics, culture, education, and life experiences. Meanwhile, the influence of personal free will and choice makes up only about 15%.