There’s occasionally a moment when we see certain traits in other people that leave one pondering whether that’s a reflection of “how others see us”.

Where they are narcissists or deeply insecure people, I personally don’t have that problem, thankfully.

But it is indeed unsettling to witness how insecurity, left unchecked, can spiral into self-loathing – a darkness that obliterates self-worth and, at its most harrowing, leads to self-destructive acts. The leap from internal criticism to active self-harm is a tragic testament to the quiet power of the mind’s harshest voices.

Given the struggles of the world, and any community you can think of, one might wonder if these personal struggles echo on a broader scale. Are too many people and, by extension, our communities, caught in a pattern of collective self-loathing?

The signs are not always dramatic, but they are there: patterns of self-sabotage, cycles of cynicism, a tendency to undermine progress or kindness with doubt and harsh critique.

Sometimes, whole societies seem to turn against themselves, manifesting behaviours that mirror individual self-harm – neglecting wellbeing, fostering division, or dismissing the value of hope.

Dare I say it, aren’t “accusations” by some to others of being “woke” a case in point?

Most recognise it as a right-wing political chant against namby-pamby liberals. But its honourable origins appear to have come from a heightened awareness of social and racial injustices. An example from the 1930s was blues musician Lead Belly singing “stay woke” in his song Scottsboro Boys, urging vigilance against racial injustice.

So call me “woke” all you like. It seems odd to use an accusing voice against something positive. I simply suggest that it’s how any good parent would nurture a child to care about others and to not be a prat.

I’ve reflected on it before in this column – the cynical cat chasing the tail in a cardboard box of social media; local authorities that can’t raise enough candidates or voters to function as a proper democracy, and a spiteful man-baby in America’s White House. And while I’m at it, what’s happening to the world when we sit and watch a despot deliberately starve people to death in Gaza?

All these things are mere symptoms of bigger issues – the way society is increasingly rewarding those among us who are deeply insecure and use that trait to appeal to the baser instincts of people who appear to be searching for something different.

That “something different” often seems to be little more than a hail mary. The election of Trump, the UK Brexit vote and a significant number of oddities occupying decision making seats on our local councils proves my point. So much negative “them-and-us” destruction of the things that hold society together – decency, fair debate, respect and kindness.

The answer to our malaise, of course, is in the majority of citizens who aren’t insecure and recognise that the best bits of society are built on people intelligently working together, over time. It’s hardly ever because of destructive processes, even when wrapped in a progressive cloak – take note, David Seymour.

Maybe by reflecting on the idea of civility there is a glimmer of possibility. By recognising these destructive patterns, both in ourselves and in the world, we open the door to gradual remedies.

The antidote to self-loathing, whether personal or collective, begins with empathy – a gentle acknowledgment of vulnerability and the shared desire for wholeness. Through understanding, dialogue, and care, we might disrupt these cycles and help foster communities that uplift rather than diminish.

Perhaps the greatest act of courage, for individuals and societies alike, is to turn toward these shadows by daring to believe that anything is possible, both within and beyond ourselves.