As a psychotherapist with over 30 years of clinical experience, I am often asked to make sense of the profound psychological divisions currently defining our national political landscape—particularly in moments when actions, such as threatening a long-standing ally like Denmark, appear to undermine international stability, diplomatic norms, and NATO principles. Observers naturally ask whether this reflects, "folie à plusieurs," a shared delusional process. While such a diagnosis is neither literal nor clinically precise in this context, the behavior is nevertheless difficult to reconcile through conventional logic alone. At best, we are left only to speculate and scratch our bewildered heads.
One plausible reason is a psychological and sociocultural response rooted in [fear](https:/…
As a psychotherapist with over 30 years of clinical experience, I am often asked to make sense of the profound psychological divisions currently defining our national political landscape—particularly in moments when actions, such as threatening a long-standing ally like Denmark, appear to undermine international stability, diplomatic norms, and NATO principles. Observers naturally ask whether this reflects, "folie à plusieurs," a shared delusional process. While such a diagnosis is neither literal nor clinically precise in this context, the behavior is nevertheless difficult to reconcile through conventional logic alone. At best, we are left only to speculate and scratch our bewildered heads.
One plausible reason is a psychological and sociocultural response rooted in fear—fear of loss, fear of displacement, fear of uncertainty—combined with limited exposure to diverse perspectives and critical information. When fear dominates, nuance and exceptions fade. Over time, this dynamic creates insular echo chambers that amplify threat narratives while filtering out contradictory evidence. What is particularly striking, and deeply concerning, is that this climate of dread is no longer confined to one group. It is now mirrored across political divides, leaving many people—regardless of affiliation—feeling powerless, overwhelmed, and chronically anxious. These emotional states do not resolve fear; they worsen it.
So, if "fear" is the culprit, then it’s on us to try to manage our own fear better. But how? How long can we continue looking away? We can’t sleepwalk through this forever.
From a psychological standpoint, prolonged exposure to fear-based messaging narrows cognitive flexibility. Individuals begin to prioritize emotional certainty over factual accuracy, gravitating toward narratives that feel protective rather than those that are demonstrably true. In such environments, conspiracy theories blossom, misinformation is normalized, and errant ideologies are reframed as acts of patriotism. Intolerance becomes “boundary protection.” Intimidation becomes “strength.” International bullying is justified as national defense. This is not patriotism; it is fear seeking legitimacy. However, fear is only legitimate as an unavoidable human emotion—that’s all. To be fair, fear is an evolutionary necessity; it is hardwired to keep us alive. But while fear is a remarkable adaptive function, it can be a disastrous management strategy.
At its core, this phenomenon reflects a lack of a pluralistic perspective. When we exist in an informational vacuum—whether by choice or circumstance—we become increasingly vulnerable to “emotional reasoning,” a well-documented cognitive distortion in which feelings are mistaken for facts. The logic becomes: I feel threatened; therefore, the threat must be real. Even when objective evidence contradicts this conclusion, the emotional experience overrides rational assessment. This distortion can lead to impulsive decision-making, distorted risk evaluation, and reactive policy positions that ultimately undermine the very security they claim to protect. That is not a good look, especially to the rest of the world.
Hence, the fundamental question: Are we truly facing an existential national threat that justifies these behaviors and policies? Are we just being egregiously xenophobic? Are we responding to perceived danger magnified by fear, misinformation, and identity-based politics? While prudence and vigilance are vital components of leadership, there is a critical difference between thoughtful caution and fear-driven impulsivity. When governance becomes reactive rather than deliberative, it risks drifting into irrationality—and, at its extreme, delusion.
Democracy is not sustained by emotional certainty but by institutional integrity, shared facts, and respect for the law. For example, Greenland is not a commodity; it is a sovereign entity. Allies are not pawns or bargaining chips; they are foundational to collective security. We need them as much as they need us. Our nation is not supposed to be governed by impulse or grievance, but by legislation designed to protect the common good—especially in moments of fear.
Perhaps this is where we might recall the wisdom of popular culture, which often captures truths with striking clarity. As Dr. Spock observed in Star Trek, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few—or the one.” In times of heightened fear and polarization, this principle serves as a reminder that ethical leadership and civic responsibility require us to look beyond individual anxieties and ideological impulses, and instead act in service of the broader human community. Let’s not let fear win!