This short piece was written for the Cultivating Emotional Balance (CEB) newsletter
Contempt is an interesting emotion to unpack, both in terms of its effect on our society and with regards to our personal history. Reflecting a sense of condescension towards others (either as individuals or as groups), contempt can be an important signal for showing disapproval towards what we perceive as socially reprehensible behaviour, but often comes at a high price, building stronger walls between us and others. I distinctly remember the first time I noticed the facial expression of contempt in the face of a friend that I was sharing something vulnerable with. An unmistaken sign of superiority instead of empathy and support was a tough pill to swallow—and, indeed, an accurate prediction for the eventual dissolution of friendship.
I find it meaningful to explore my own habits related to contempt by analysing how it manifested in my teenage years (quite profusely—as a defence mechanism during the tumultuous school years), how I used to occasionally express it towards people of other generations (either older or younger), and how it can, to this day, arise when I’m faced with political and ethical views that are vastly different from mine.
Exploring these three domains is a powerful way to understand something about our emotional landscape in general and our contempt-related habits in particular.
However, this understanding is incomplete unless we add some practical solutions to it: how do I keep my contempt in check, making sure it does not poison my relationships and does not become a state I’m strongly associated with?
It is in this domain of practical ideas that I find a lot of similarity between contempt and pity—and between the ways of dealing with those emotions. Both mental states entail a certain distancing between us and another being: one with a greater degree of coldness, the other with a bit more sympathy. Both, however, are different from genuine compassion that sees us as being equal to others—equal in our wish to be free and in how we’re all subject to suffering. Both take us away from genuine respect towards the subjective experiences of others and how real those experience must feel. Reminding myself of the dangers of hubris and of the value of warm-hearted openness towards others (especially towards their vulnerable core) seems to work quite well in bringing me down to a more open, equanimous, and compassionate state, where the dividing force of contempt is caught and transformed into a slightly greater degree of understanding.
Practicing On the Cushion
Contempt can serve as a theme for analytical meditation in which we explore three simple questions:
How does it feel when I’m treated with contempt?
Do I feel connected to others when I’m contemptuoustowards them?
How can I open my heart and mind when contempthabitually arises?
If nothing else comes to mind, one powerful way to answer the third question is with an aspiration: “May I always practice respectful, warm-hearted openness that is both wise and kind”.
An important factor for exploring these questions successfully is being gentle with ourselves. Contempt-related habits will not change overnight, and they are completely understandable—and at the same time malleable, if we apply enough effort and kindness.
Practicing with Contempt Off the Cushion
One of the first tricks to use with contempt is to watch out for the associated facial expression (characterised by a corner of our lip going down in disdain).
Is our facial expression shifting when someone is asking a question we see as stupid, or when someone is, in our understanding, being mopey or excessively loud?
Catching ourselves and then allowing our face to relax into a facial expression of equanimous, respectful curiosity is a helpful trick for improving our connection with others—especially once that respectful openness actually starts arising from within.