And how we might help them See

‘*Choices*’
Above Dove Lake, on the Overland Track, Cradle Mountain, Tasmania

You’ve probably felt it. That ache when someone you love, someone you once saw as thoughtful or decent, now speaks with anger or blind allegiance about politics. You can hear it in their voice, as though their voice is no longer their own, and their message has also been replaced by someone else’s message. Maybe it’s a political leader, or religious figure. Regardless, it leaves you wondering: “How can they not see what’s happening?”

Before you give up on them, or let frustration drive a wedge too deep, I want to offer a leadership lens that I’ve found useful. One grounded in psychology, not politics.

It’s an idea that I found in the book Immunity to Change, developed by Harvard psychologists Robert Kegan and Lisa Lahey. And it explains why smart, good, even loving people can become fiercely resistant to change … even when the facts are clear, and even when they say they want something better.

‘*Unchallenged aspirations*’
Photographic art - from my, as of yet unfinished, wooden sculpture of Icarus

The Core Idea

People don’t resist change because they’re stubborn or stupid.
They resist because deep down, they are unconsciously committed to something else.
Something protective. Something that feels vital to their identity or survival.

Excerpt from ‘Immunity to change’
Kegan, Laskow -Lahey, 2009:x

**What we say We care about**

Some of my Dad’s books, now in my Library

If we slow down, and listen to those who say things like:

“I care about freedom.”
“I want to protect American values.”
“I don’t want our country destroyed.”

We might see a path of insight that can be walked together. Because these are deeply human commitments. They can come from a place of care for many, and are, in fact, values that many of us (no matter our political affiliation) would also claim as our own. The question then, isn’t about the validity of the goals themselves, but more so, it’s about how we go about living them. And whether our actions are truly serving these values - or others that seem to run counter to them.

How what we do may actually undermine those goals

“*Contemplation on the placement of intention”*
Photographic art from the Insightful Path

And yet, along side these noble intentions, we often see actions that seem to contradict them:

Support for authoritarian behavior.
Ignoring corruption.
Denying facts.
Rejecting dialogue.

For those watching from the outside, these choices can feel maddening… even unforgivable. But if we pause and look more closely, something deeper begins to emerge. These behaviors aren’t always expressions of hatred or ignorance. More often, they are strategies of protection. Ways of holding on to identity, certainty, or belonging in a rapidly shifting world.

‘*hidden keys*’
Photographic art of my sculpture titled: ‘*We hold the keys*’

There’s a hidden, competing commitment
If we are willing to look even deeper, beneath the behaviours, beneath even their beliefs, we begin to uncover something quieter, more human:

“I’m committed to staying loyal to my group.”

“I’m committed to not feeling ashamed or betrayed.”
“I’m committed to avoiding the pain of being wrong.”

These aren’t conscious choices. They’re protective instincts forming an emotional scaffolding to keep someone steady in a world that feels uncertain, divided, or even threatening.

They help preserve a fragile sense of identity, belonging, and self-worth - often without the person ever realising they’re there.

And underneath that is a big assumption they don’t even realize they’re making

Thurra River, West of Alfred National Park, Victoria

And deeper still, we find the roots. The powerful assumptions that silently hold the whole system in place.

“If I admit the president is wrong, I’ll lose everything I believe in.”
“If the other side wins, my world will fall apart.”
“If I listen, I’ll be manipulated or made a fool.”
“If I question this, I’ll be abandoned by my people.”

These aren’t signs of ignorance or malice. They’re emotional survival strategies. They are shaped by past experience, reinforced by community, and held together by fear. In many ways, they’re understandable. But when they remain unexamined, they can trap a person in a kind of psychological stasis. Not just politically, but, arguably, even spiritually. Their growth halts. Dialogues break. And the possibility of transformation gets traded for the illusion of safety.

For Those Watching From the Outside

‘*finding the bravery to continue*’
Photographic art of a an old, tired, and broken sculpture
Insightful Path

If this sounds like someone you care about, it’s okay to feel tired. Angry. Heartbroken.

But this framework offers a path that’s not just “convincing them”, it’s inviting them back into their own integrity.

You can’t force it. But you can ask gentle questions that open space:

“What are you most afraid would happen if you changed your mind?”
“What do you think you’d lose if you saw this differently?”
“What are you most trying to protect?”

These aren’t debate questions.
They’re acts of leadership.
They create the conditions for seeing.

The Hope

‘*The spirit of the dragon*’
Photo of my sculpture ‘Koi’ - who are said to have the spirit of the dragon within them, enabling their resilience and strength.

Our apparent immunity to making change, to growing and learning, and building skills in the directions of our dreams, well this can be overcome. Assumptions can be tested. People can grow.

But when we are talking about concepts such as identity, it becomes increasingly important to ensure that we create environments where those people we want to help do not feel shamed, attacked, or made to feel stupid.

What the research has shown, is that in order to look at, let alone change, elements of one’s identity, people need safety, honesty, and a mirror held with real and felt interest in their well being. And this is important, for as one of my heroes, psychotherapist Carl Rogers, one of the founders of humanistic psychology once said, ‘the curious paradox is that when I accept myself, just as I am, then I can change'.’

In an environment conducive to accepting one’s self, then change can happen… even the ‘frighteningly responsible freedom’ to be one’s self, but it can only do so when the heart feels safe enough to question its own defenses.

If you’re reading this and feel even a flicker of fear (fear of what it might mean to question what you’ve believed, or to consider that things might not be as clear-cut as they once seemed) know this:

That fear doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you human.

You’re not broken. You’re protecting something deeply important, a sense of identity, belonging, safety. And maybe now, there’s space to protect something even more precious: your capacity to grow, to evolve, to see more fully.

The skill to practice:

‘*These stings are nothing. Nothing at all.*’
Carving for the Dannye Romine Powell poem, “*Everyone is afraid of something*”

Courage doesn’t always look like protest or defiance. Sometimes it looks like honest self-reflection

Instead of defending what you believe, get curious about why you believe it.
Ask yourself:

“What does this belief protect me from feeling?”
“What would be at risk for me if I thought differently?”
“What story would I have to rewrite about who I am?”

And if you’re someone who loves a person caught in this kind of fear… take heart.

Change doesn’t come from pressure or argument. It comes from safety. It comes from the feeling that it is quite alright to examine your self, make assessments, and, if necessary, changes. It is the feeling that you can be the artist of your own life.

Practice listening in a way that helps the other person feel seen, not judged.
Instead of debating facts, ask:

“What do you hope is true by believing this?”
“What part of you feels most at stake here?”

These are not tricks or persuasion tactics. They are invitations to deeper humanity.

If something in this spoke to you… if you’re curious about how your own beliefs are shaped, or you’re leading others through complexity and resistance, I’d love to hear from you.

Whether you're doing this work for yourself or in support of others, I help people develop the inner clarity, emotional courage, and leadership identity to meet these moments with presence and integrity. You can reach out via the contact page, or simply send me a message. Let’s explore this path of insight together.

Why good people don’t change…