Are People Getting Meaner?

A few days ago, I was listening to Oprah interview NYU psychologist Dr. Jay Van Bavel, and the conversation started with a question I haven’t been able to stop thinking about:

Are we getting meaner?

It certainly can feel that way.

Spend enough time online and it does not take long to find people tearing each other apart. What feels different lately is that this lack of civility does not seem confined to our screens. Talk to people who work with the public and many will tell you they feel it in everyday interactions too. People seem quicker to anger, less patient, and more willing to say things to one another that might have once felt unacceptable. 

Those working in animal control and field services have a front row seat to all of it.

You are often walking into situations where emotions are already high. An animal has bitten someone. Someone cannot afford veterinary care. A neighborhood is struggling with roaming animals. Someone believes an animal is being neglected. Another person believes you have no business telling them how to care for their pets.

Then there are the larger questions our field continues to wrestle with. How do we integrate lifesaving with public safety? When does providing resources create a better outcome than issuing a citation? When is enforcement necessary? What responsibility belongs to the pet owner, the shelter, animal control, rescue organizations, or the broader community?

Of course, those of us who have been doing this work for decades know that disagreement in animal welfare is nothing new.

I have certainly found myself on different sides of many of these conversations throughout my career.

I have been a euthanasia technician holding healthy and treatable animals as they took their last breath. I have helped lead a large municipal shelter through enormous changes in operations and lifesaving. I have seen safety net programs and other innovations keep animals with their families and out of shelters.

I have also walked neighborhoods where parents told me they were afraid to let their children ride their bikes because of loose dogs. I have listened to animal control officers trying to balance what is best for an animal with what is required by law and what is safe for the community.

There was a time when I probably dismissed some experiences because they did not align with my own. 

These days, I am much more interested in understanding them.

I have learned that two things can be true at the same time.

The disagreements themselves may not be new. But something about the environment in which we are having them is.

Maybe We Haven’t Changed as Much as We Think

This is where that conversation with Dr. Van Bavel gave me hope.

One of the ideas that stayed with me was that human nature has not fundamentally changed for the worse but the environment around us has.

Maybe we have not suddenly become less caring, less decent, or less compassionate. Maybe we are human beings responding to an environment that has become remarkably good at activating our survival instincts.

Social media has given us incredible opportunities to connect, organize, advocate, and learn. It has also changed how conflict travels.

Outrage gets attention. Fear gets attention. Certainty gets attention. Us versus them gets attention.

Now AI adds another layer. In seconds, almost anyone can create polished content designed to generate a reaction, making it easier and faster to amplify messages that tap into fear, outrage, or virtue signaling.

AI itself is not the problem. Neither is social media. Both can be powerful tools for connection and progress. But incentives matter.

When engagement becomes the goal, fearmongering can work. Virtue signaling can work. Oversimplifying complicated issues can work. Turning people into heroes and villains can work.

We have watched these forces reshape our political discourse. I do not think animal welfare is somehow immune to this phenomenon.

It’s also important to note that conflict and disagreement are not inherently bad. They can challenge us, help us learn, and lead to meaningful change. The danger is when disagreement makes it harder for us to stay curious, hold complexity, or see the humanity of the person on the other side.

Survival Mode Is Human

At Hatching, we talk about something we call Survival Mode.

Survival Mode is not a character flaw. It does not mean someone has stopped caring or is bad at their job. It’s a natural reaction to being overstimulated, overwhelmed, and over capacity.

Our brains and bodies are designed to protect us. When we experience urgency, uncertainty, conflict, suffering, or threat (real or perceived), our systems respond.

But when urgency becomes the environment around us, our perspective can narrow. We can become more reactive, more inflexible, and more attached to our interpretation of what is happening.

We begin assigning roles without even realizing it.

Hero. Victim. Villain.

And once we decide who is who, curiosity becomes much harder to practice.

This matters in animal control because so much of the work unfolds in moments when emotions are already high and the full picture is rarely clear. An officer may arrive with limited information, while the caller, pet owner, neighbor, and officer each bring their own experiences, perspectives, and understanding of what is happening. 

None of us sees the whole picture. Compassion asks us to remember that, to stay curious about what we may not yet understand, and to remain connected to the humanity of everyone involved, including our own, as we decide what the moment requires. 

Compassion Is Something We Can Cultivate

I’ve come to see compassion not as something we either have or don’t, but as something we can intentionally cultivate. 

The framework we use at Hatching is:

Notice. Feel. Act. Release.

Notice suffering without immediately needing to explain it, fix it, or decide who is to blame.

Feel enough to remain connected to the person, animal, community, or yourself.

Act where you have the ability and responsibility to make a difference.

Then release what is not yours to carry, including the belief that you can control every outcome.

Another practice we use is the 333 Routine: three minutes of movement, three minutes of mindfulness, and three minutes of mindset.

Nine minutes will not solve every challenge facing animal control. That is not the point. The purpose is to interrupt the momentum long enough to reconnect with ourselves and create room for a second thought.

Maybe I ask one more question. 

Maybe I notice what is happening inside of me before I walk up to the door.

Maybe I become curious about an experience that does not match my own.

Maybe I remember that I do not have the whole story yet.

Our Humanity Is Still Here

After twenty years in this work, I still believe most of us came here because we wanted to reduce suffering.

That includes people who may have very different ideas about how to accomplish that.

We can still debate ideas, challenge policies, hold ourselves and one another compassionately accountable, and remain open to learning and changing our minds when new information or experiences give us a reason to. 

And we can do all of that without losing sight of one another.

Maybe the question is not whether we are getting meaner.

Maybe the better question is:

How do we become better at seeing our own humanity and the humanity in others? 

We may not control the algorithm, what someone posts about us, or how someone responds to us during a difficult call.

But we still have some agency over what we give our attention to, what we amplify, and how we choose to show up.

For those who want a place to practice this with others, we created the Skool of Compassion, a free community where we share tools, practices, conversations, and resources to help people better understand themselves, interrupt Survival Mode, and cultivate compassion in their lives and work.

After all this time, I still want to reduce suffering.

But these days, I want something more.

I want us to learn how to transform suffering into compassion, wisdom, and care.

For the animals. For our communities. For one another. And for ourselves.

About the Author

José Ocaño is a proud Chicano leader, keynote speaker, and co-founder and CEO of Hatching, a social impact organization helping people move from Survival Mode to Compassion Mode. José began his animal welfare career more than 20 years ago as a kennel attendant at Pima Animal Care Center in Tucson, Arizona, and went on to help lead the organization’s transformation into a nationally recognized model for progressive animal sheltering. Today, through Hatching, he partners with organizations across the United States and Canada to cultivate more compassionate leaders, workplaces, and communities.