During a trip to Spain a few years ago, our tour guide — he was from Barcelona — announced his antipathy for the Real Madrid football team. As he saw things, he would rather have his beloved local team (the Barcelona Football Club, which then had Lionel Messi as its star player) lose a game than have the rival Madrid squad win one. Warming to the task, he claimed he would rather see Madrid lose a practice game than have his team win a regular season match. That was how much he hated Real Madrid.
Knowing that he probably told this story to every tour group, the captive audience on the bus laughed politely. But his comments set us to thinking. Do we have dislikes that we feel called upon to announce to others? And if so, why do we make these declarations?
To be human is to have likes and dislikes. The process of identifying and disidentifying with things we like or dislike is a fundamental way of locating ourselves in the world and, in effect, of deciding who we are and what we stand for. Sharing our feelings with others and getting feedback on what we said helps solidify those claims.
Of course, we complain about different things. Consider three forms of objection: peeves, antagonisms, and aversions.
Peeves. Peeves are objections we have to distinctive situations and to the behaviors that occur there. Objections to situations (perhaps long, slow lines at the grocery store) become “peeves” when they are something we feel is frequent or repetitive (“This always happens here”). They become “pet peeves” when we realize this is something we ourselves often notice and complain about. As we pamper a pet, we nurture our feelings of resentment and look for chances to express them (“This gets me; I should talk to the store manager”).
The list of behaviors that bother people is surely endless. Most, it seems, involve acts of discourtesy. We object when people come to work or social occasions sick and when they don’t wash their hands after using the restroom. We resent that they don’t respond promptly to our texts or calls, or oppositely, take calls from others when they are in our presence. We don't like it when they talk with their mouths full, they cough and burp without restriction, they drive too fast — or too slowly. We resent it when they can’t apologize, they criticize us behind our backs, or give us the “silent treatment.” We get upset when they harass waitstaff and customer service representatives for matters those workers can’t control, or when they’re freeloaders and bad tippers.
Most of us are guilty of bothering others. For example, I’m often late. I chew the ends of pens. I give unsolicited advice. I’m a “gate louse,” someone who tries to get to the front of one’s boarding group at airports. The reader may decide which of their own insensitivities are problematic.
Antagonisms. Like that Barcelona tour guide, we have resentments toward specific individuals and groups. Frequently, these denunciations have no strong empirical basis. That is, the people we dislike haven’t done anything to us personally. It’s simply that they seem to stand in the way of the groups we support. Thus, any gains they make are perceived threats to our own status, power, and even happiness.
It’s noteworthy that most of our vitriol is reserved for people who are “proximate” to us, either in the sense that they share the spaces we operate in or that they are nearly equivalent to us in status and power. In that spirit, we enjoy arch-rivalries in team sports and animosities directed at similarly situated, closely located schools and towns. In much the same way, we’ve been taught to hate certain countries. Those “enemies” are rarely weak nations positioned halfway around the world and indifferent to us. Instead, they are “threats” to our economic interests, tourism, and general way of life. The stronger they become, the worse they seem.
The reader may argue that racial prejudice (frequently, assaults on categories of dispossessed people far from centers of power) is an exception to this rule. However, members of the majority in higher positions of power tend to have cooler feelings about these issues. It’s those members of the majority who fear that they will lose their jobs to rising minorities or share their schools and neighborhoods with them that express the rawest emotions.
Consider, too, that our lists of best friends and worst enemies usually come from the same restricted set of people. And individuals can move quickly from one list to the other. We're on guard for any young adult who tries to steal our boyfriend or girlfriend. The same goes for that co-worker who wants the promotion we seek.
Occasionally, we confront these people directly. Much more common is our work behind the scenes — telling jokes, circulating rumors, and reinforcing stereotypes. Whether or not we admit our dislike for “those people,” our real ambition is to imperil their status and to inflate our own. Our noisy declamations are just appeals for support.
Aversions. Different from the other two complaints, aversions are resistances we feel toward certain activities and behaviors. In extreme cases, those feelings are fears. More commonly, they are just judgments about things we don’t “like” to do and, indeed, “won’t” do, however much others pressure us.
Fundamental to psychology is the idea that individuals have dispositions or preferences. We like one thing — or one category of thing — more than another. We don’t object to the existence of that negatively valued thing; we don’t see it as a direct threat to us. We may even be able to operate in situations where “it” exists. However, we ourselves don’t want to get too close to it or participate in behavior with it. And we don’t mind expressing our objections to others.
Once again, the list of things people shun is endless. Food dislikes are a good example. While there are good reasons not to eat certain foods (such as specific allergies, enzyme deficiencies, and moral convictions), many of the people I know simply will not eat specific foods. Mushrooms, hard-cooked eggs, mayonnaise, celery, cheese, peas, and olives are among the offenders. One friend shuns carbohydrates. Hosts — and restaurants — must work around the requirements.
To be sure, all of us have preferences, but we must decide how voluble to be in our denunciations of things we don’t like. (One vegetarian friend would lecture his fellow diners on their decision to eat “carrion” or “dead animal flesh.”) We have clothing styles we like; others we “wouldn’t be caught dead in.” We like certain kinds of music but dismiss others out of hand (“Classical music is boring; country music is stupid”). We have preferred travel destinations and modes while we denounce others (“Can you imagine anyone willingly taking a cruise?”). Even our pets get selective treatment. Some of us dislike dogs; others, cats.
The point is not that we have these lifestyle preferences; it is that we feel called upon to announce publicly our dislikes — and make others respond to them.
Most of the posts in my blog are guided by a common theme. Humans seek an appropriate identity for themselves in society’s many settings. The active process of managing, experiencing, and reconsidering that identity is what we call “self.” Ever ingenious, we seek attention from others; make claims to them; and try to get what statuses we can.
Our public complaints are part of that process. As I’ve described in another post, sometimes our complaining is mostly a ritual, a way of reminding others that we’re “still here” and continue to have the same standards we’ve always had. Frequently, it is an attempt at communion, a plea for support from other like-minded people. Playfully, we may complain to “stir things up,” to add some spice to a situation. More consequentially, we complain in hopes of changing things (perhaps ridding the world forever of cats, green olives, and cruise ships).
Much of this is just noise making. Another level is reached when we become known as the person who dependably produces the complaint — peeve, antagonism, or aversion — in question. That is, our having this dislike (and being willing to express it) becomes part of our identity. Still, another level is attained when our resistance to something is one of the key qualities that people assign to us when they think about us. (“Isn’t she the one who won’t eat vegetables?” “Isn’t he the guy that hates cats?”) This is what I call a “signature” or distinctive aspect of identity.
All of us want recognition and respect. We enjoy being catered to. Ideally, we acquire this attention through our positive support for others rather than idiosyncratic denials.
References
Henricks, T. “Why We Complain: Grumbling is a Way of Building Relationships with Others.” www.psychologytoday.com. Posted August 21, 2022.
Ostman, C. “Aversions and Strong Dislikes: Working with the Things We Hate.” www.psychologytoday.com. Posted May 29, 2012.
Whitbourne, S. “Why Antagonistic People are So Unwilling to Change.” www.psychologytoday.com. Posted May 21, 2022.
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