The British singer Morrissey, whose work returns obsessively to the theme of loneliness, once described its destructive potential in strikingly existential terms: „Nothing fortified me, and simple loneliness all but destroyed me, yet I felt swamped by the belief that life must mean something – otherwise why was it there? Why was anything anything??” (Morrissey 2013: 201) This tension – between loneliness and the hunger for meaning – lies at the heart of one of the most pressing questions in radicalization research: Why do some people who feel abandoned by society turn towards radical ideas and movements, as the singer himself did?

The connection between loneliness and radicalization has been widely documented. Its most dramatic manifestation is the figure of the „lone wolf” – the solitary actor who, out of isolation, turns to violence in what appears to be an existential attempt to overcome his disconnection from the world. Yet research has complicated this picture considerably. As O’Connor et al. (2024) have shown, lone actors are in fact rarely as „lone“. Empirical and theoretical work, they argue, demonstrate that radicalization is fundamentally a relational process, driven by interactions with individuals, movements, and institutions, and consolidated by emotional bonds.

This raises an important conceptual question: what do we actually mean by loneliness? If lone actors are embedded in networks, are they truly lonely? The answer depends on how we conceptualize loneliness itself. Tirkkonen & Tietjen (2025) offer a compelling reframing, drawing on the political theory of Hannah Arendt. Rather than understanding loneliness as mere social isolation – a simple lack of contacts – they conceptualize it as a lack of a shared world. One can have many interactions and still be profoundly lonely if those interactions do not constitute genuine participation in a common reality.

For Arendt, loneliness destroys both the public sphere and private life. It deprives individuals of agency, the capacity to act meaningfully in and upon the world together with others. Crucially, it also distorts deliberative processes: “lonely individuals not only cling to promises of fellowship and recognition but also tend to develop negative future scenarios and become suspicious of others“ (Tirkkonen & Tietjen 2025: 14; Arendt 1973: 326). 

In this perspective, radicalization can be understood as an attempt to recover a sense of agency, that is to act meaningfully, to matter, and to belong. But it is, as Tirkkonen & Tietjen argue, a distorted form of agency, one that substitutes genuine political action for violence or destructive solidarity. Empirical psychology supports this theoretical picture: Ernst et al. (2024) have shown that loneliness amplifies authoritarian attitudes, susceptibility to conspiracy narratives, and right-wing extremism.

The Loss of Public Things

If loneliness understood as the absence of a shared world is a driver of radicalization, the question becomes: what creates and sustains such a shared world? And, equally pressing: what destroys it? 

Political theorist Bonnie Honig offers a suggestive answer through her concept of „public things“ (Honig 2017). For Honig, political communities are not primarily constituted by formal attributes – citizenship status, voting rights, legal personhood – but by the things we share: public infrastructure and common spaces. As she writes, public things are part of the „‚holding environment‘ of democratic citizenship; they furnish the world of democratic life. They do not take care of our needs only. They also constitute us, complement us, limit us, thwart us, and interpellate us into democratic citizenship“ (Honig 2017: 5).  „When infrastructure crumbles, it is not only infrastructure that crumbles but also its constitutive gifts of (de)stabilization, integration, and adhesion“ (Honig 2017: 6). This insight connects directly to Ray Oldenburg’s classic account of „third places“, those informal public gathering spaces that are neither home nor work: pubs, cafés, barbershops, libraries, community centres. Oldenburg (1999) argued that third places are essential to democracy, civic engagement, and a sense of place. They foster political debate, generate unexpected solidarities across social differences, unify neighbourhoods, and bring together people of different ages, backgrounds, and beliefs. Crucially, they do all of this informally, without institutional compulsion. Their sociality is spontaneous, pleasurable, and low-threshold. What we need, Oldenburg observed, are places where people can gather easily, inexpensively, regularly, and pleasurably – real-life alternatives to the retreat into private consumption.

Eric Klinenberg’s more recent work „Palaces for the People“ (Klinenberg 2018) provides empirical weight to these claims. Through the concept of „social infrastructure“, Klinenberg demonstrates that the physical places and organizations that enable social relationships have measurable effects on social cohesion, resilience, and wellbeing. Where that infrastructure had decayed, social bonds had decayed with it.

There is a further dimension worth noting. Loneliness is frequently accompanied by boredom. Boredom, as van Tilburg & Igout (2016) have argued, is itself a radicalization risk. Boredom increases the coherence of beliefs and the polarization of attitudes. In the context of political beliefs, it may contribute to the endorsement of extreme views. People who are lonely and bored are not merely unhappy – they are cognitively and emotionally primed to find meaning in simple, totalizing narratives that offer clear enemies, strong communities, and a sense of purpose.

None of this is entirely new. Robert Putnam (2000) warned twenty years ago, in „Bowling Alone“, of the collapse of civic community and social capital. Since then, the condition of our public things has continued to deteriorate. Infrastructure decays; university buildings close due to disrepair; pubs – tellingly called „public houses” in English – shut at an accelerating rate; pharmacies, those informal spaces of neighbourhood sociality, disappear; online interactions replace the chance encounters of embodied public life.

Morrissey’s evocation of an English seaside town where „everyday is like Sunday” – „silent and grey“, drained of life and purpose – captures this condition with uncomfortable precision. His narrator, in a moment of dark absurdism, wishes for an apocalyptic event simply to break the deadening monotony. It is a poetic exaggeration, of course. But it points to something real: when shared public life atrophies, the hunger for something – anything – that matters becomes harder to satisfy through ordinary democratic participation.

There are many approaches to countering radicalization. An important and underappreciated one is the restoration of informal, non-institutionalized spaces of encounter. Third places and public things do not only reduce loneliness in a social-psychological sense, though they do that too. Social psychology’s contact hypothesis gives us strong reasons to believe that intergroup encounters in such settings reduce prejudice and hostility (Pettigrew & Tropp 2011). They do something more fundamental: they create and sustain the shared world without which democratic citizenship becomes an abstraction that is unable to prevent the emergence of radicalisation.

References

Arendt, Hannah. 1973. The Origins of Totalitarianism. Originally published 1951. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Ernst, Mareike, Manfred E. Beutel, Oliver Decker, and Elmar Brähler. 2024. “Einsam und Radikal? Eine psychologische Perspektive auf Einsamkeit und demokratiefeindliche Einstellungen.” Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte 74, no. 52: 37–41.

Honig, Bonnie. 2017. Public Things: Democracy in Disrepair. New York: Fordham University Press.

Klinenberg, Eric. 2018. Palaces for the People: How Social Infrastructure Can Help Fight Inequality, Polarization, and the Decline of Civic Life. New York: Crown.

Morrissey. 2013. Autobiography. London: Penguin.

O’Connor, Francis, Lasse Lindekilde, and Stefan Malthaner. 2024. “Radicalisation of ‘Lone Actors’.” In The Routledge Handbook on Radicalisation and Countering Radicalisation, edited by Joel Busher, Leena Malkki, and Sarah Marsden, 213–229. Abingdon, Oxon; New York, NY: Routledge.

Oldenburg, Ray. 1999. The Great Good Place: Cafés, Coffee Shops, Community Centers, Beauty Parlors, General Stores, Bars, Hangouts, and How They Get You Through the Day. 2nd ed. New York: Marlowe & Company.

Pettigrew, Thomas F., and Linda R. Tropp. 2011. When Groups Meet: The Dynamics of Intergroup Contact. New York: Psychology Press.

Putnam, Robert D. 2000. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York: Simon & Schuster.

Tirkkonen, Sanna, and Ruth Rebecca Tietjen. 2025. “Loneliness and Radicalization.” Philosophy & Social Criticism. https://doi.org/10.1177/01914537251334550.

For most of us, it seems difficult to understand why some individuals are drawn to radical groups. Scholars from a range of academic disciplines have attempted to explain this phenomenon. One line of reasoning emphasises that individuals who experience injustice are more open to radicalisation. Another highlights the importance of social networks, suggesting that people become radicalised because they know someone already involved in a radical group. Friends and family members may, in other words, play a key role in persuading individuals to join.

In countries affected by both poverty and state collapse, some people are drawn to radical groups because such groups can offer protection as well as a source of income. Yet another perspective focuses on individual traits and personality. Earlier debates, particularly during the 1970s, often portrayed terrorists as abnormal in some respect—for instance, as suffering from antisocial personality disorder. This line of argument has largely been abandoned. The prevailing view today is that individuals who radicalise, even to the point of engaging in terrorism, are in many ways quite ordinary. In fact, it may be the case that individuals with severe psychological disturbances are less likely to be recruited, as they may struggle to function within a (radical) group.

In this text, I argue that people are drawn to radical groups through normal psychological processes. The starting point is simple: human beings are social beings who need the group and group belonging. This is the case for several reasons. My discussion is informed by motivational theory, although I do not seek to dismiss alternative explanations grounded in other theoretical perspectives. Rather, I aim to contribute one of several relevant lenses that may offer useful insights.

My argument begins from the premise that humans need to belong to a group. One reason is purely physical. Without a group, human beings are relatively defenceless against external threats, including harsh weather conditions, dangerous animals, hostile adversaries, and food scarcity. For this reason, groups are inherently attractive to individuals. The idea that “going it alone” is a sign of strength does not hold up well. Humanity has survived largely because of its ability to form protective groups. In this sense, Thomas Hobbes may well have been right when he argued already in the seventeenth century that life without the state is “nasty, brutish, and short”.

What does this have to do with radical groups? The attractiveness of such groups is likely to increase in so-called failed states, contexts where the state has collapsed and is unable to provide physical security, let alone basic social services. While radical groups typically have limited resources, there are situations in which they are able to offer such goods. Hezbollah in Lebanon and the Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka are well-known examples of organisations that have provided social services alongside their political agendas. In such cases, these groups can acquire a certain degree of appeal.

However, human beings have more than just physical needs. According to motivational theory, groups also fulfil psychological needs, such as the need for love, affection, and belonging. Experiencing genuine acceptance within a group—a feeling of being valued and of fitting in as one is—can be deeply satisfying. Conversely, rejection can be psychologically damaging.

Radical groups are often discussed in terms of how they mobilise emotions such as anger and resentment. While this is certainly important, it is not the whole picture. Individuals who are accepted into a radical group may also experience inclusion, care, and a sense of belonging. This can be particularly significant for those who struggle to find acceptance elsewhere, for example due to experiences of exclusion or bullying.

In addition, people are not only drawn to groups for protection or belonging. Groups can also provide a sense of self-worth and self-esteem. However, this depends on the group being perceived as having value or status—not only by its own members but also, crucially, by others. Here, radical groups face a challenge. They are rarely regarded as high-status groups, at least not in the eyes of the broader society. Individuals who join such groups therefore risk losing status rather than gaining it. Many radical groups appear to be aware of this and have developed various strategies to counteract it.

For example, if a radical group recognises that it is unlikely to gain acceptance within mainstream society, it may instead seek recognition within a narrower community. An Islamist group, for instance, might attempt to enhance its status among Muslims in Europe rather than among the European majority population. Some groups go further by actively distancing themselves from mainstream values and constructing an alternative value system. One example is certain Salafist groups in Britain, which claim to restore a “pure” and authentic form of religious practice. Another strategy involves elevating the moral standing of the in-group by discrediting others. In such cases, the group not only presents itself as superior according to its own criteria but also attributes negative characteristics to out-groups.

To summarise, from the perspective of motivational theory, radical groups can become attractive under certain conditions. Resourceful groups may be appealing if they are able to take over functions normally associated with the state, such as providing security and basic social services. They can also offer community, belonging, and, in some cases, a sense of status. If individuals are drawn to radical groups for these reasons, this attraction can be understood as a result of normal psychosocial processes.

Finally, I would like to offer a brief personal reflection. In many parts of Europe, anti-immigration parties have gained political ground. Immigration, particularly Muslim immigration, has often been framed as a problem, and immigrants themselves as a burden. This rhetoric has increasingly been echoed not only by fringe actors but also by mainstream political parties.

From the perspective of Muslim immigrants, such a social climate may foster a sense of low status in the eyes of the majority society, and in some cases a feeling of rejection. Under these conditions, the appeal of radical groups may increase. Their message of belonging—of being welcomed, valued, and respected within a Muslim community—can be highly attractive. Likewise, claims that “we” possess a superior moral or religious status may resonate. In this sense, the nationalism promoted by anti-immigration movements may, paradoxically, prove counterproductive. The sense of exclusion it generates can be readily exploited by radical groups.

Since the early days of research on violent extremism back in the 1970s and even earlier, one of the main research questions has been why people become extremists or terrorists. However, the flip side of the question was not asked: why and how do violent extremists quit? For a long time, it was taken for granted that these activists remained involved in violent extremism until they ended up dead or in prison. There was hardly any interest in whether some of them possibly disengaged from violent extremism in other ways – even if such knowledge would be of great relevance for prevention and intervention of violent extremism.  

When I worked on my doctoral dissertation on “Racist and Right-Wing Violence in Scandinavia” (Bjørgo, 1997) during the mid-1990s, I interviewed many active, but increasingly also many former activists from the neo-Nazi scenes. I soon realized that the common wisdom that “once a Nazi, always a Nazi” was simply not true. Many participants – including some of those who had been highly ideologically committed and deeply involved in violence – had eventually left the movement and tried to find a foothold in “normal” society. Some succeeded quite well in reintegrating with jobs and families, whereas others struggled and ended up at the margins of society. 

Searching for better understanding of processes of disengagement, deradicalisation and reintegration has been a main research topic throughout my academic career. As a pioneer, I have contributed in establishing this field on the international research agenda. Together with my colleague John Horgan, we developed a much-used conceptual framework with the distinction between deradicalisation and disengagement as two linked – but loosely linked – processes (Horgan & Bjørgo, 2009). I also introduced push, pull and barrier factors to understand processes of change into and out of extremist groups (Bjørgo, 1997; 2011; 2025). Based on my doctoral research, I established the very first Exit project in Norway in 1997, a model that inspired similar Exit projects in Sweden, Germany and eventually in many other countries. During the last 20 years, deradicalisation and disengagement have become main goals in P/CVE policies.

Interviewing former extremists has been a main source of data in my own research in understanding processes of engagement and radicalisation, and deradicalisation, disengagement and reintegration. Many researchers and students want to get access to former extremists to make their own interviews, but few formers are willing, often because they find it stressful to have to recount again and again traumatic and shameful parts of their lives. Together with Robert Örell – himself a former who has led Exit programmes and Exit training for almost 20 years – we decided to use our extensive networks of formers to make a collection of interviews that could be made available to other researchers, students and P/CVE practitioners. We interviewed and developed a dataset with transcribed interviews (at present 15 but growing) for researchers and students, as well as a series of podcast interviews available to the public. 

Read more about the Formers project, the dataset and the podcasts here: 
https://www.sv.uio.no/c-rex/english/resources/formers/index.html

To hear more about my own story on working with former extremists, please listen to my podcast: 
https://www.sv.uio.no/c-rex/english/research/podcast/episodes/podd_toreb.mp3

References:

Bjørgo, T. (1997). Racist and Right-Wing Violence in Scandinavia: Patterns, Perpetrators and responses. Oslo: Tano Aschehoug.

Bjørgo, T. (2011). Dreams and disillusionment: Engagement in and disengagement from militant extremist groups. Crime, Law and Social Change. Volume 55, Issue 4 (2011), pp. 277-285.

Bjørgo, T. (2025). Conceptualising diversity among violent extremists – a typology and a model for explaining change. In: M. Obaidi & J.R. Kunst (eds.). Cambridge Handbook of the Psychology of Violent Extremism, Cambridge University Press.

Bjørgo, T. & Horgan, J. (2009). Leaving Terrorism Behind: Individual and Collective Disengagement. London: Routledge.

Editor note: This blog post was written by Anna Thaler, student assistant to the Vortex doctoral candidates Lotta Rahlf and Laura Stritzke, who provided conceptual and editorial input.

The role of mental health in radicalisation is repeatedly discussed not only in the media but also in professional fields related to violent extremism and its prevention (P/CVE). Media coverage often frames mental health as a main driver of radicalisation, while research paints a more complex picture: mental health interacts with social, family, and ideological factors, and its exact role in the multiple pathways to violent extremism remains unclear. In response to public safety concerns, some policymakers in countries like Germany and the United Kingdom have called for increased information sharing and surveillance, but critics warn that these measures risk stigmatisation and may undermine prevention efforts. Prevention is not limited to security authorities, but social workers, psychologists, and other community practitioners play a crucial role in early intervention. Thus, this blog post discusses the potentials of including mental health in socio-preventative practice by reviewing the literature, discussing how it addresses the links between mental health and radicalisation, and highlighting what this means for prevention efforts.

Why the Focus on Mental Health in the Context of Radicalisation is Important

Overview of the Literature 

A closer look at existing research helps us understand why mental health is important and highlights its implications for prevention. Early research on violent extremism mostly looked for direct links, like specific personality traits or mental health vulnerabilities that might drive extremist behaviour (Obaidi et al., 2025). Over time, however, scholars have shifted toward developmental perspectives, exploring how family dynamics, childhood experiences, and broader life-course factors shape radicalisation (Webber & Kruglanski, 2018; Sarour & El Keshky, 2022; O’Driscoll, 2018). This approach also highlights differences across age and gender: minors and female extremists often follow distinct pathways, reflecting unique social and psychological profiles (Oppetit et al., 2019; Rolling et al., 2022). Taken together, these strands offer a clear picture of the research landscape and lay the groundwork for considering what this means for prevention strategies.

Between Public Debate and Academic Research

In public discourse, radicalisation to extremist attitudes and violence are increasingly linked to mental illness, with media and security authorities often emphasizing these connections (Allroggen & Horn, 2025). Academic research has also examined psychological well-being as one potential factor in the pathways toward extremism and terrorism. While these studies explore potential links, empirical findings remain mixed. While some studies identify tendencies between mental health issues and extremist involvement, others do not observe a direct relationship. It therefore remains debated, whether mental health issues are part of a broader puzzle or directly related to extremist involvement.

Numerous studies investigate the prevalence and potential role of mental disorders in pathways to violent extremism, suggesting that certain forms of psychological vulnerability may intersect with radicalisation processes (O’Driscoll, 2018; Sarma et al., 2022; Henrich et al., 2024). Research on radicalised minors, for instance, indicates that young terrorist offenders often provide indications of mental health issues, including personality, mood, and substance use disorders. In these cases, grievances and anger related to perceived injustice appear to interact with mental health issues, while depressive symptoms are reported as particularly common among young offenders (Duits et al., 2022). Psychopathology has also been examined in the context of lone-actor terrorism, where individual-level variables such as isolation, grievance, and escalating stress are critical, although mental disorders are not defining features of such terrorism (Schulten et al., 2019; O’Driscoll 2018). 

Furthermore, research shows that personal traits, motivations, and psychological factors influence how individuals may become involved in extremist activity (O’Driscoll, 2018; Al-Attar, 2020; Obaidi et al., 2025). For example, factors like strong group identification or personal motivation can make someone more likely to engage in extremist behaviour, but these traits are not inherently signs of mental illness (Obaidi et al., 2025; Hogg, 2008; Turner et al., 2006). However, studies differ on the connection between mental disorders and extremism. Some suggest a link, while others find that extremists have similar or even lower rates of mental health issues compared to non-violent individuals or the general population (Bronsard et al., 2022; Dhumad et al., 2020; Sarma et al., 2022). Mental health difficulties are therefore just one of several interacting risk factors and cannot predict who will commit extremist acts on their own (Schulten et al., 2019).

While a relationship between mental health and violent extremism is frequently discussed and the literature addresses various factors that can promote extremist attitudes, the existence of a direct causal link remains contested. It is important to note that no specific mental health disorder appears to predict terrorist involvement, and extremist individuals do not consistently show higher rates of mental illness than the general population (Dittmar et al, 2025; O’Driscoll, 2018; Al-Attar, 2020; Sarma et al., 2022). 

What Does That Mean for the Prediction of Extremist Behaviour? 

Taken together, these findings challenge the notion of a clearly identifiable extremist profile. Rather than pointing to a specific mental health condition as a reliable predictor of violent radicalisation, mental health should therefore be understood as one element within a broader network of interacting risk factors social dynamics, rather than as a determining cause of extremist or terrorist behaviour (Schulten et al., 2019).

When studying extremism, focusing too much on psychological disorders can risk turning the issue into an individual problem, which may distract from its broader social and political roots. Radicalisation is also shaped by structural and societal factors, including social marginalisation, ideological dynamics, and collective grievances (Lyons‑Padilla et al., 2016; McCauley & Moskalenko, 2008). Recognising mental health vulnerabilities does not exclude these explanations. Instead, psychological factors are just one part of a bigger picture, interacting with social and political contexts (McGilloway et al., 2015).

Taken together, the literature suggests that mental health difficulties are one of several interacting risk factors for extremist involvement, but their presence alone is insufficient to predict who will engage in violent extremism. Although some studies indicate a connection between mental health and extremist behaviour in certain individuals, no clear causal link can be established, and generalisations are not justified. These findings highlight the need for prevention strategies that integrate an individual-focused approach with social-contextual understanding, balancing attention to mental health with broader societal and environmental factors (Obaidi et al., 2025).

Mental Health-related Factors and Pathways into Extremism – Developmental Perspectives

The academic understanding of mental health–related factors in radicalisation has evolved considerably over time. Early psychological approaches to violent extremism, emerging in the 1970s, primarily emphasized individual-level explanations and frequently focused on psychopathological traits as central drivers of extremist behaviour (Obaidi et al., 2025). Over time, however, the field has moved toward more nuanced and developmental perspectives that integrate social (Webber & Kruglanski, 2018) familial (Sarour & El Keshky, 2022; Dhumad et al., 2020), and life-course factors into the analysis (O’Driscoll, 2018). 

A substantial body of contemporary research now examines background factors associated with radicalization. These include socio-demographic factors (Thijssen et al., 2023), childhood experiences (Grimbergen & Fassaert, 2022; O’Driscoll, 2018), family dynamics (Sarour & El Keshky, 2022), and individual risk pathways, such as personality traits, motivational drivers, trauma exposure, mental health vulnerabilities, and cognitive or emotional predispositions that may increase susceptibility to extremist involvement (Obaidi et al., 2025). In particular childhood experiences and traumatic events have gained increasing attention. O’Driscoll (2018) argues that early exposure to risk factors may increase the potential for later violent behaviour and identity struggle. Within this developmental framework, the family environment has emerged as a relevant, though still underexplored, factor. Studies indicate that family functioning influences extremist beliefs, with more balanced family functioning being associated with lower levels of extremist beliefs (Sarour & El Keshky, 2022).

Alongside research on the underlying factors of radicalisation, the literature has expanded its focus beyond a predominantly adult-cantered perspective. While much empirical research continues to concentrate on adults(Kasinathan & Parsons, 2025; Haghish et al., 2023), a growing body of literature, focuses on radicalised minors. Studies, such as Oppetit et al. (2019), demonstrate that minors often follow different radicalisation trajectories than adults and display distinct social and psychological profiles. For example, radicalised minors, particularly females, more frequently report histories of self-harm and tend to exert less influence within their social networks compared to adult extremists. These findings underscore the greater psychological vulnerability of adolescents and point to the necessity of age-specific prevention and intervention strategies (Oppetit et al., 2019). Research on women, while still limited, has begun to address gender-specific pathways into violent extremism and experiences (Rolling et al., 2022).  

Furthermore, contemporary studies also recognise that extremists constitute a highly heterogeneous group. Individuals involved in violent extremism vary widely in age, education, family background, and life experiences (Thijssen et al., 2023). This recognition marks a clear departure from earlier attempts to identify uniform extremist profiles and reinforces the importance of context-sensitive and individualised analytical approaches.

Alongside these conceptual developments, the relationship between violent extremism and specific mental health diagnoses has been examined in greater depth. Contemporary research had examined association with personality disorders (Grimbergen and Fassaert, 2022), substance use disorders, mood and anxiety disorders, post-traumatic stress disorder, and neurodevelopmental conditions such as autism spectrum disorder (O’Driscoll 2018; Henrich et al. 2024; Sarma et al. 2022). 

For instance, Grimbergen and Fassaert (2022), found that among individuals suspected of violent extremism, common disorders included personality disorders (41.2%), substance-related disorders (35.3%), mood and anxiety disorders, mild intellectual disability (each 29.4%), and psychotic disorders (14.7%). Furthermore, Al-Attar (2018) highlight the increasing recognition that several features of autism spectrum disorder may have links to engaging in extremist behaviour and may functionally link with push and pull factors especially to terrorism. These features include restricted and repetitive interests and behaviours, difficulties with social interaction and imagination, a strong need for order and predictability, and distinct cognitive and sensory processing styles (Al-Attar, 2018). More recently, trauma-informed perspectives have gained prominence. Evidence suggests that exposure to complex trauma can heighten vulnerability to extremist engagement (Rolling et al., 2022). Trauma-focused interventions are increasingly discussed not only as preventive measures but also as tools to support disengagement. For example, Mohammed and Neuner (2022) argue that trauma-related mental health conditions, especially PTSD, should be systematically considered in reintegration programs for young former extremists.

What Does This Mean for Prevention? 

Overall, research highlights that paying attention to mental health and observable behaviours can provide valuable insights for prevention, guiding counselling and targeted interventions. However, the involvement of security agencies in such interventions has been widely debated. Relying too heavily on surveillance or treating all individuals at risk as if they fit a single profile can reinforce stigma and overlook the broader social and ideological contexts that shape radicalisation (Corner & Gill, 2015).

Despite these challenges, mental health perspectives already play an important role in prevention work. Systemic counselling in social work, for example, overlap methodologically with approaches in psychotherapy, allowing for trauma-sensitive, individualised, and family-oriented interventions (Savenije et al., 2023). One concrete example is the Psychotherapy Department of the Violence Prevention Network (VPN), which supports both professionals and those affected at the interface of mental health, radicalisation, and disengagement processes. By addressing risk factors early and considering individual life trajectories, such initiatives demonstrate how mental health can be meaningfully integrated into P/CVE strategies, complementing broader social and contextual approaches.

Although mental health issues should be understood as one risk factor among many rather than as a direct cause, clients with mental disorders are frequently encountered in extremism prevention and deradicalisation efforts (Allroggen & Horn, 2025). Psychological strain, trauma, identity struggles, and social exclusion interact with contextual factors, making individual-level variables crucial for understanding why some individuals are more susceptible to violent extremism. Radicalised adolescents, in particular, constitute a heterogeneous group with complex needs influenced by mental, familial, societal, and environmental factors, requiring individualised assessment and support (Kasinathan & Parsons, 2025). According to Obaidi et al. (2025), these individual-level variables provide a perspective that complements other approaches to studying violent extremism, ensuring that prevention efforts account for both personal and contextual dynamics.

For practitioners, this means that the presence of extremist views does not automatically indicate a mental disorder, and psychological factors may not always play a decisive role (Dittmar et al., 2025). Nevertheless, there are cases in which mental health vulnerabilities and radicalisation processes coincide, requiring careful attention. Research on the relationship between mental health, particularly mental disorders, and violent extremism has advanced in recent years, but the field remains under development. The connections between radicalisation processes, extremist attitudes, and psychological conditions should continue to be carefully analysed, as conflating radicalisation with mental health risks prematurely categorising individuals and reinforcing stigma (O’Driscoll, 2018; Dittmar et al., 2025). 

Taken together, these insights highlight the need for prevention strategies that integrate an individual-focused approach with social-contextual understanding, balancing attention to mental health with broader societal and environmental factors.

Conclusion

Despite the frequent mixing of extremism and mental health in public debate, particularly in Germany, it is important to consider these topics separately in research and practice (Dittmar et al., 2025). While mental health does not offer a simple or deterministic explanation for extremist violence, it plays a crucial role in shaping vulnerability, motivation, group dynamics, and disengagement processes. Both individual differences and contextual factors must be considered to understand the complex pathways to extremism and to design effective prevention and P/CVE strategies.

It could be valuable to look more closely at how mental health approaches in P/CVE might not only benefit individuals with pre-existing disorders but also those who develop psychological strain or trauma through involvement in violent extremist groups. Understanding how trauma-informed and individualized approaches support disengagement and rehabilitation could inform more effective intervention strategies. This approach can draw on insights from Marsden et al. (2024), who investigate explores how trauma and adverse experiences influence radicalisation, emphasising the role of mental health. 

These insights understanding have direct implications for prevention practice. By moving beyond stereotypes and simplistic risk profiles, practitioners, including mental health professionals, educators, social workers, doctors, and psychotherapists, can engage in early identification and targeted intervention. Strengthening resilience, addressing trauma, and reducing stigma around mental health support can all help to reduce vulnerability to extremist narratives (Heimgartner et al., 2021; Schulten, 2024). Integrating mental health considerations into comprehensive prevention strategies ensures interventions are context-sensitive, evidence-informed, and tailored to individual needs, ultimately enhancing the effectiveness of P/CVE efforts

This blog post was written by Anna Thaler, student assistant to the Vortex doctoral candidates Lotta Rahlf and Laura Stritzke, who provided conceptual and editorial input.

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Corner, E., & Gill, P. (2015). A false dichotomy? Mental illness and lone-actor terrorism.Law and Human Behavior, 39(1), 23–34. https://doi.org/10.1037/lhb0000102

Dhumad, S., Candilis, P. J., Cleary, S. D., Dyer, A. R., & Khalifa, N. (2020). Risk factors for terrorism: a comparison of family, childhood, and personality risk factors among Iraqi terrorists, murderers, and controls. Behavioralsciences of terrorism and political aggression, 12(1), 72-88.

Dittmar, V., Dreyhaupt, R., & Strauß, H. (2025). Menschenrechte, Grundbedürfnisse und psychische Gesundheit im Themenfeld Extremismus. In Psychische Belastungen bei Klient* innen der Deradikalisierungs-undDistanzierungsarbeit: Extremismusprävention an der Schnittstelle von Therapie und Beratung (pp. 11-20). Wiesbaden: Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden.

Duits, N., Alberda, D. L., & Kempes, M. (2022). Psychopathology of young terrorist offenders, and the interaction with ideology and grievances. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 13, 801751.

Grimbergen, C., & Fassaert, T. (2022). Occurrence of psychiatric disorders, self-sufficiency problems and adverse childhood experiences in a population suspected of violent extremism. Frontiers in psychiatry, 13, 779714.

Haghish, E. F., Obaidi, M., Strømme, T., Bjørgo, T., & Grønnerød, C. (2023). Mental health, well-being, and adolescent extremism: a machine learning study on risk and protective factors. Research on child and adolescent psychopathology, 51(11), 1699-1714.

Heimgartner, A., Rau, Allroggen, M. & Fegert, J. M. (2021). Radikalisierungsprozesse wahrnehmen–einschätzen–handeln: Grundlagenwissen für Ärzt* innen und Psychotherapeut* innen. Universitätsklinikum Ulm.

Henrich, S., Ireland, J. L., & Lewis, M. (2024). Radicalisation across the community and forensic units: a systematic literature review on the psychology of violent extremism. Preventing and Countering Violent Extremism and Radicalisation, 163-215.

Hogg, M. A. (2008). Personality, individuality, and social identity. In F. Rhodewalt (Ed.), Personality and social behavior (pp. 177–196). Psychology Press.

Kasinathan, J., & Parsons, A. (2025). Radicalisation in adolescents: mental health considerations for violent extremism. Australasian Psychiatry, 33(1), 57-63.

Lyons‑Padilla, S., Gelfand, M. J., Mirahmadi, H., Farooq, M., & van Egmond, M. C. (2016). Belonging nowhere: Marginalization & radicalization risk among Muslim immigrants. Behavioral Science & Policy.

Marsden, S., Lewis, J., & Leslie, A. (2024). Trauma, Adversity and Violent Extremism: Implications for Risk Assessment. https://crestresearch.ac.uk/resources/trauma-adversity-and-violent-extremism-implications-for-risk-assessment/.  

McCauley, C., & Moskalenko, S. (2008). Mechanisms of political radicalization: Pathways toward terrorism. Terrorism and Political Violence, 20(3), 415‑433. 

McGilloway, A., Ghosh, P., & Bhui, K. (2015). A systematic review of pathways to and processes associated with radicalization and extremism amongst Muslims in Western societies. International Review of Psychiatry, 27(1), 39–50. https://doi.org/10.3109/09540261.2014.992008

Mohammed, R., & Neuner, F. (2022). Putative juvenile terrorists: the relationship between multiple traumatization, mental health, and expectations for reintegration among Islamic State recruited adolescent and young adult fighters. Conflict and health, 16(1), 58.

Obaidi, M., Bergh, R., & Dovidio, J. F. (2025). Individual Differences and Violent Extremism: Personality, Mental Disorders, and Risk Pathways. 

O’Driscoll, D. (2018). Violent extremism and mental disorders. Knowledge, Evidence and Learning for Development.

Oppetit, A., Campelo, N., Bouzar, L., Pellerin, H., Hefez, S., Bronsard, G., Bouzar, D. & Cohen, D. (2019). Do radicalized minors have different social and psychological profiles from radicalized adults?. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 10, 644.

Rolling, J., Corduan, G., Roth, M., Schroder, C. M., & Mengin, A. C. (2022). Violent radicalization and post-traumatic dissociation: clinical case of a young adolescent girl radicalized. Frontiers in psychiatry, 13, 793291.

Sarma, K. M., Carthy, S. L., & Cox, K. M. (2022). Mental disorder, psychological problems and terrorist behaviour: A systematic review and meta‐analysis. Campbell Systematic Reviews, 18(3), e1268.

Sarour, E. O., & El Keshky, M. E. S. (2022). Understanding extremist ideas: The mediating role of psychological well-being in the relationship between family functioning and extremism. Children and youth services review, 136, 106420.

Savenije, A., van Lawick, J., & Reijmers, E. (2023). Systemic perspectives in mental health, social work and youth care: A relational compass. Routledge. 

Schulten, N. (2024). Practitioners’ perspectives on the challenges of dealing with the interaction between mental illness and violent extremism in Countering Violent Extremism (CVE). Behavioral Sciences of Terrorism and Political Aggression, 16(4), 530–555. https://doi.org/10.1080/19434472.2022.2142268. 

Schulten, N., Doosje, B., Spaaij, R., & Kamphuis, J. H. (2019). Radicalization, terrorism & psychopathology: State of affairs, gaps and priorities for future research. University of Amsterdam-Faculty of Social and Behavioural Sciences.

Thijssen, G., Masthoff, E., Sijtsema, J., & Bogaerts, S. (2023). Understanding violent extremism: Socio-demographic, criminal and psychopathological background characteristics of detainees residing in Dutch terrorism wings. Criminology & Criminal Justice, 23(2), 290-308.

Turner, J. C., Reynolds, K. J., Haslam, S. A., & Veenstra, K. E. (2006). Reconceptualizing personality: Producing individuality by defining the personal self. In T. Postmes & J. Jetten (Eds.), Individuality and the group: Advances in social identity (pp. 11–36). Sage Publications, Inc. https://doi.org/10.4135/9781446211946.n2

Webber, D., & Kruglanski, A. W. (2018). The social psychological makings of a terrorist. Current opinion in psychology, 19, 131-134.

As already underlined on VORTEX blog, radicalisation has become a focal point, with a plethora of media and academic writings on the subject. Many researchers have already pointed out the field’s theoretical and empirical (Dawson, 2019; Nilsson, 2018; Sageman, 2018) shortcomings. Of course, much contemporary research has begun to address these issues (Robert and Kaya, 2023). Yet, despite the ‘reflexive turn’ prompted by the rise of post-positivism (Hamati-Ataya, 2013) and the simultaneous calls for the decolonisation of the social sciences (Reiter, 2022), which urge researchers to reflect on their position and privilege (Abdelnour and Abu Moghli, 2021), as well as to consider their potential involvement in perpetuating racial and gender hierarchies (Behl, 2017), reflexive enquiries remain rare in radicalisation and terrorism studies (Ajil, 2023). As Esholdt and Jørgensen (2021: 433) state, the vast majority of methodological contributions in the field of radicalisation involve overviews of research design and data collection, or guidelines on conducting interviews with radicals and/or terrorists. Of particular concern is the lack of critical engagement with positionality in a research area where respondents are predominantly male, racialised, and from socio-economically disadvantaged backgrounds, while researchers are typically “white/Western/bourgeois/heterosexual” (Chukwuma, 2024: 855). 

Reflexivity is indeed an epistemological practice aimed at acknowledging how researchers’ positionality, privilege, and institutional affiliations shape knowledge production (Shaw et al., 2020; Kapinga et al., 2022). It is also an ethical imperative that advocates for greater transparency. Without reflexivity, scholarship risks reproducing the hierarchies and exclusions from which its participants suffer, thereby exacerbating their marginalisation (Lewis et al., 2023; Huizinga, 2024). By foregrounding reflexive enquiry, researchers can account more carefully for the asymmetrical power relations embedded in fieldwork encounters, mitigate the risk of reinforcing structural inequalities, and ensure that knowledge production remains attentive to the vulnerabilities and lived realities of participants in studies of this kind (O’Brien et al., 2022; Genova and Zontini, 2023). In a certain way, the marginalisation of discussions around positionality and reflexivity in research on radicalisation reintroduces the archaic positivist view of the researcher as being “neutral” and almost “transparent”: his or her identity and trajectory is supposed to have no impact on the data collection process. Scholars also consider this lack is hindering imperative for transparency and replicability (Schmidt, 2021). But how can we explain this gap in the field of radicalisation research? Firstly, reflexivity is very often linked to ethnography and ethnography has a much more recent history in the field of radicalisation (Esholdt & Jørgensen, 2021). Ajil (2023, p. 75) offers several explanations for this, including “the difficulty of gaining field access, a reticence to provide interviewees with a potential platform to publicise their ideas or whitewash their image, apprehensions that interviewing as a social practice may be seen as complicity or collusion, fear of legal consequences of engaging with offenders, doubts about interviewees’ veracity, and a general aversion to fieldwork”. A second possible explanation may lie in the fact that reflexivity is uncomfortable. It involves exposing how the researcher’s identity may have influenced the fieldwork, revealing potential weaknesses, setbacks and even a few mishaps. In that sense, Pillow (2003), for example, addressed strong pieces of criticisms to accounts of reflexivity that remain superficial. Consequently, even though it is a demanding exercise, a reflective commitment that consists of revealing the conditions under which the research was produced, questioning the place that the researcher occupied in the field, and considering the potential impact of who he or she is (in terms of age, gender, race, etc) on the data he or she was able to collect, constitutes a virtuous circle in the field of radicalisation studies.

References

Abdelnour, S., & Abu Moghli, M. (2021). Researching violent contexts: A call for political reflexivity. Organization, 0(0). https://doi.org/10.1177/13505084211030646

Ajil, A. (2023). Studying Terror Through My I’s: Autoethnographic Insider/Outsider Reflections of an Arab-Muslim Researcher. Perspectives on Terrorism, 17(2), 74–91. https://www.jstor.org/stable/27255593

Behl, N. (2017). Diasporic researcher: an autoethnographic analysis of gender and race in political science. Politics, Groups, and Identities, 5(4), 580-598. https://doi.org/10.1080/21565503.2016.1141104

Chukwuma, K. (2024). The critical terrorism researcher: identity, positionality, and (de)coloniality. Critical Studies on Terrorism, 17(4), 854–877. https://doi-org.ezproxy.ulb.ac.be/10.1080/17539153.2024.2370546

Dawson, L. L. (2019). Taking Terrorist Accounts of their Motivations Seriously: An Exploration of the Hermeneutics of Suspicion. Perspectives on Terrorism, 13(5), 74–89. https://www.jstor.org/stable/26798579

Esholdt, H. F., & Jørgensen K. E. (2021a). Emotional Trials in Terrorism Research: Running Risks When Accessing Salafi-Jihadist Foreign Fighter Returnees and Their Social Milieu. Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 47(4), 432–456. https://doi-org.ezproxy.ulb.ac.be/10.1080/1057610X.2021.1962500

Genova, E., & Zontini, E. (2023). Researching the researcher: producing emotionally-sensed knowledge in migration research. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 48(8), 1499–1522. https://doi-org.ezproxy.ulb.ac.be/10.1080/01419870.2023.2263084

Hamati-Ataya, I. (2013). Reflectivity, reflexivity, reflexivism: IR’s ‘reflexive turn’ — and beyond. European Journal of International Relations, 19(4), 669–694. https://doi.org/10.1177/1354066112437770

Huizinga, R. P. (2024). “We’re not that much different from you!”: navigating positions of betweenness to explore solidarity, care and vulnerability in refugee and forced migration research. Social & Cultural Geography, 25(4), 620-638.

Kapinga, L., Huizinga, R. & Shaker, R. (2022). Reflexivity through positionality meetings: religion, Muslims and ‘non-religious’ researchers. International Journal of Social Research Methodology, 25(1), 103-117.

Nilsson, Marco 2018. Interviewing Jihadists: On the Importance of Drinking Tea and Other Methodological Considerations. Studies in Conflict and Terrorism, 41(6), 419-432

O’Brien, J. E., Brewer, K. B., Jones, L. M., Corkhum, J., & Rizo, C. F. (2022). Rigor and Respect: Recruitment Strategies for Engaging Vulnerable Populations in Research. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 37(17-18)

Pillow, W. (2003). Confession, Catharsis, or Cure? Rethinking the Uses of Reflexivity as Methodological Power in Qualitative Research. International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 16(2): 175–96.

Reiter, B. (2022). Decolonizing the Social Sciences and the Humanities. An Anti-Elitism Manifesto. Routledge

Robert, M. V., & Kaya, A. (2023). Political drivers of Muslim youth radicalisation in France: religious radicalism as a response to nativism. Journal of Contemporary European Studies, 32(3), 625–642

Sageman, M. (2018). Turning to Political Violence: The Emergence of Terrorism. University of Pennsylvania Press

Schmidt, R. (2021). When Fieldwork Ends: Navigating Ongoing Contact with Former Insurgents. Terrorism and Political Violence, 33(2), 312-323

Shaw, R. M., Howe, J., Beazer, J., & Carr, T. (2020). Ethics and positionality in qualitative research with vulnerable and marginal groups. Qualitative Research, 20(3), 277-293.

Acts of violence by non-state actors prompt questions of motive and their institutional classification. As such occurrences become public, they turn into matters of societal concern, taken up by the media and political actors. On the one hand, the classification of motives is often shaped by political worldviews, group identities, and prevailing narratives. Ideological motives tend to be more contested when concerning White offenders (Kauff, 2024; Kunst et al., 2018). Cases involving minoritized offenders often provide support for repercussions that extend beyond the individual to people who are perceived to share identity features, such as demands for changing migration policies (Matthes et al., 2019). This illustrates the blurred line between objective assessment and subjective attribution, raising critical questions about how politically motivated harm is perceived and responded to. Against this backdrop, the rigidity and opaque operationalization of institutional classification systems employed by states and security agencies become particularly problematic. These limitations highlight the need for more adaptable frameworks, greater involvement of independent bodies, and systematic consideration of the experiences of affected individuals and communities.

Interpreting Motives: Between Ideology and Pathology

Recognizing political violence is not merely an administrative task. It is a reflection of how societies define justice, threat, and belonging. A key challenge lies in distinguishing ideological from non-ideological motivations. Political interpretations of acts of violence are often influenced by the perceived identity of the perpetrator. Research shows that when perpetrators are minoritized, ideological explanations like terrorism tend to be applied more readily. In contrast, White perpetrators are more likely to be framed as suffering from psychological distress or individual deviance (Kunst et al., 2018). 

This framing influences not only media narratives but also judicial outcomes and public perception. The case of Anders Behring Breivik in Norway remains a prominent example: even after publishing a manifesto detailing his ideological motives, public debate focused heavily on whether he acted from ideological conviction or psychological disturbance (ibid.). Reports from the German Federal Criminal Office also discuss terrorism almost exclusively in the context of Islamist extremism, despite mounting evidence of far-right and conspiracy-motivated attacks (Bundesministerium des Innern & Bundeskriminalamt, 2025).

The implications of such framing are significant. Cases involving minoritized perpetrators are more commonly linked to broader collective blame, affecting not only the perpetrators but also entire communities associated with them (Kauff, 2024; Noor et al., 2019). Implications range from supporting citizenship withdrawal to stricter immigration policies. Similar acts committed by non-minoritized individuals, on the other hand, are often treated as isolated cases. These asymmetries ultimately play a role in how violence is understood and addressed (Kauff, 2024; Matthes et al., 2019).

Categorizing and Targeting Political Motives

In the European context, both definitions of political violence and the institutional processes governing classification vary. In some countries, like Norway, independent researchers play a role in providing typologies and frameworks of political motives, whereas in others, such decisions lie primarily with police authorities. The criteria used to distinguish between hate crimes, politically motivated violence, and terrorism differ widely. For instance, in the UK, hate crimes are treated separately from terrorism (Home Office United Kingdom, 2024), while in Germany, the annual report on politically motivated crime includes both categories. Under a unified typology of politically motivated crime, hate crime incidents and ideological motivations are reported (Bundesministerium des Innern & Bundeskriminalamt, 2025). These differences make cross-country comparisons difficult and contribute to confusion around overall trends.

Although many countries have revised their classification procedures in recent years, their application remains largely fragmented, opaque, and susceptible to bias. In Germany, for instance, the gap between state-reported data and documentation by civil society organizations has long been a point of contention. While government sources report a growing number of right-wing crimes, they still significantly undercount incidents, particularly when it comes to far-right, racist, and antisemitic violence (Kleffner, 2018). This discrepancy highlights the difficulty of recognizing political violence especially with new hybrid ideologies emerging. Thus, classification systems and procedures need to become more transparent, operationalized with clear criteria, yet adaptable to new forms of violence. Besides, they should be anchored in victims’ perspectives and informed by independent actors to increase the reliability of assessments.

Finally, targeting violence cannot rely on prosecution alone but requires the sustained involvement of civil society actors. While state responses stress prosecution and security (Sivenbring & Andersson Malmros, 2019), civil society plays a significant role not only by working with offenders but also with those affected by political violence. Although a rise in incidents may suggest a deficiency of prevention, the link is more complex (Greuel & Milbradt, 2024). Political violence is also shaped by broader sociopolitical dynamics and events. Moreover, increasing surveillance and punitive measures may have counterproductive effects, potentially escalating rather than preventing future acts of violence (Schädler & Schwarz, 2025). Thus, the role of civil society actors and their relational approach play a crucial role in preventing extremist offenses.  

Conclusion

Acts of political violence challenge not only public safety but also the ways institutions interpret, categorize, and respond to harm. Existing classification systems often struggle to account for the complexity of motivations and the broader societal implications of such acts. To avoid reproducing stereotypes or overlooking certain forms of violence, it is essential to develop frameworks that are transparent, revisable, and grounded in the lived experiences of those affected. Beyond classification, institutional responses to politically motivated crime must avoid reinforcing the very dynamics that give rise to political violence. Like stereotypes, excessive surveillance and collective punitive measures can fuel resentment and increase the risk of radicalization. Addressing political violence, therefore, requires not only effective legal responses but also the sustained involvement of civil society actors, whose work is vital to prevention and disengagement.

Bibliography

Bundesministerium des Innern, & Bundeskriminalamt. (2025). Bundesweite Fallzahlen 2024 Politisch motivierte  Kriminalität.

Greuel, F., & Milbradt, B. (2024). Die Evaluation von Programmen in den Handlungsfeldern Extremismus­prävention, Demokratie­förderung, Vielfalt­gestaltung und politische Bildung – Heraus­forderungen und Umgangs­strategien. https://preval.hsfk.de/fileadmin/PrEval/PrEval_Expertise_4_2024.pdf

Home Office United Kingdom. (2024, October 10). Hate crime, England and Wales, year ending March 2024. GOV.UK. https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/hate-crime-england-and-wales-year-ending-march-2024/hate-crime-england-and-wales-year-ending-march-2024

Kauff, M. (2024). Muslim = Terrorist? Attribution of violent crimes to terrorism or mental health problems depend on perpetrators’ religious background. The Journal of Social Psychology, 164(4), 447–455. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224545.2022.2095968

Kleffner, H. (2018). „NUR DORT, WO DIE BETROFFENEN UND IHRE EINSCHÄTZUNGEN ZUR TATMOTIVATION ANGEMESSEN BERÜCKSICHTIGT WERDEN, IST EINE EFFEKTIVE STRAFVERFOLGUNG MÖGLICH.“.

Kunst, J. R., Myhren, L. S., & Onyeador, I. N. (2018). Simply Insane? Attributing Terrorism to Mental Illness (Versus Ideology) Affects Mental Representations of Race. Criminal Justice and Behavior, 45(12), 1888–1902. https://doi.org/10.1177/0093854818794742

Matthes, J., Schmuck, D., & von Sikorski, C. (2019). Terror, Terror Everywhere? How Terrorism News Shape Support for Anti-Muslim Policies as a Function of Perceived Threat Severity and Controllability. Political Psychology, 40(5), 935–951. https://doi.org/10.1111/pops.12576

Noor, M., Kteily, N., Siem, B., & Mazziotta, A. (2019). “Terrorist” or “Mentally Ill”: Motivated Biases Rooted in Partisanship Shape Attributions About Violent Actors. Social Psychological and Personality Science, 10(4), 485–493. https://doi.org/10.1177/1948550618764808

Schädler, S., & Schwarz, M. (2025). Welche Bürger:innen erträgt das Land? Entzug der Staatsbürgerschaft bei extremistischen und/oder radikalisierten Straftäter:innen am Beispiel der Schweiz. ZepRa. Zeitschrift Für Praxisorientierte (De-)Radikalisierungsforschung, 4(1).

Sivenbring, J., & Andersson Malmros, R. (2019). Mixing Logics: Multiagency Approaches for Countering Violent Extremism. Gothenburg: the Segerstedt Institute.

This blog post consists in the transcription of a talk that Heidi presented at the “Objects, Technique, Meaning” seminar series, which took place at the semiotics research group from the University of Turin.

Right at the beginning of his article “Why Has Critique Run Out of Steam?” (on page 2), Latour talks about “matters of fact” and “matters of concern”. Throughout the paper, he comes back to other concepts he has developed in his previous works, such as “artifacts”, “objects”, and “things”. I thought it would be interesting to start this seminar by expanding a bit on these notions, providing the text under discussion today with a bit of a background.

As we already know, Bruno Latour was extremely influential to the philosophy of science, and his body of work changed the way we see things on fundamental levels. His 2004 paper Why has critique run out of steam? From matters of fact to matters of concern characterize a paramount shift in his line of thought, and it’s one of my favourite texts. To understand the importance of this paper, I will briefly describe the place where Latour was coming from when he wrote it, starting with his 1979 book Laboratory Life: The Construction of Scientific Facts (co-written with Steve Woolgar).

Laboratory Life investigates the processes involved in experimental science, attending to how such processes diverge from what is understood as ‘the scientific method’ (Latour; Woolgar 1979). For Latour and Woolgar, laboratorial science largely involves taking subjective decisions on whether to acknowledge what are mostly inconclusive data. The authors conclude that experimental science is a process of, not uncovering facts, but constructing them. Latour, then, goes on to develop what became known as Actor-Network Theory (Latour 2005), which states that discovery is contingent on the actors involved in its process (scientists, samples, equipment, institutions… and their interactions). The central thesis advanced until now, thus, regards how science produces in the laboratory new objects – which he calls artifacts; socially constructed facts – instead of discovering pre-existing ones from nature.

The view held by Latour regarding constructivism and criticism changed as he realized that the notions which he helped shape (mainly how ‘facts’ are only ideas stemming from ideological bias rather than incontrovertible truths) had been hijacked, in his words, by “dangerous extremists” who were using them to support conspiracy theories and dismiss hard-won solid evidence “that could save our lives” (Latour 2004, p. 227) – he calls this ‘instant revisionism’, saying that “the smoke of the event has not yet finished settling before dozens of conspiracy theories begin revising the official account” (ibid., 228). Latour states that, “of course conspiracy theories are an absurd deformation of our own arguments, but, like weapons smuggled through a fuzzy border to the wrong party, these are our weapons nonetheless”. So, how do we fight conspiracy theorists armed with “the neutron bombs of deconstruction” and “the missiles of discourse analysis”? (ibid., 230), Latour asks us.

His new proposal for science studies “is to be found in the cultivation of a stubbornly realist attitude” (ibid., 231), centred around the development of ideas instead of their debunking. On the paper, Latour suggests that science should occupy itself not with facts, but with matters of concern. The reason for that is because “matters of fact are a poor proxy of experience” (ibid, 245), as well as an “archaic representation of our real state of affairs” (Latour 2008, p. 39), or even “a confusing bundle of polemics, of epistemology, of modernist politics that can in no way claim to represent what is requested by a realist attitude” (Latour 2004, p. 245). As such, Latour suggests a new realist critical attitude which he calls ‘second empiricism’, arguing that his intent “was never to get away from facts but closer to them, not fighting empiricism but, on the contrary, renewing empiricism” (Latour 2004, p. 231).

Latour proposes that we move past this ‘first wave’ of empiricism (characterized by these ‘uninterpreted’ facts) towards a‘second wave’, founded on the plurality of modes of existence and respectful of the multiple interpretative keys, that is, the ways in which something can ontologically be understood as ‘true’ or ‘false’ (Latour 2013).

According to the author (Latour 2008, p. 34), when science limits itself to only dealing with matters of fact (being “objective”, decided by evidence, logic, statistics, etc.), scientific objects become highly artificial, a-historical, far-from-reality “pieces of dead material”. For Latour, there is no “harsh world made of indisputable matters of fact”, real and material, on the one hand, and “on the other, a rich mental world of human symbols, imaginations and values” (Latour 2008, p. 38). Such division does not exist in reality, so why should it exist in science? To achieve the end of such division (between real-material/symbols-values), Latour suggests that scientists should abandon matters of fact in detriment of matters of concern.

In a straightforward manner, a matter of concern is the amplification and contextualization of a matter of fact. While matters of fact are “distorted by the totally implausible necessity of being pure” and often “of no interest whatsoever” to society (Latour 2008, p. 47), matters of concern “overflow their boundaries” and “have to be liked, appreciated, tasted, experimented upon, mounted, prepared, put to the test” (ibid., 39). Most importantly, “matters of concern have to matter” (ibid., 47).

Borrowing the concept from Heidegger, Latour states that one word may designate matters of fact and matters of concern, and that word is thing. Latour, however, takes a very different approach towards the concept of ‘thing’ than its original author. Heidegger (1967) gives us an example, stating that a handmade jug can be a thing, while an industrial can of Coke is but an object. Latour writes: “while the latter is abandoned to the empty mastery of science and technology, only the former, cradled in the respectful idiom of art, craftsmanship, and poetry, could deploy and gather its rich set of connections” (Latour 2004, p. 233). Nevertheless, to Latour the object of science and technology has the same richness and complicated qualities of a Thing. To him, “all objects are born things, all matters of fact require, in order to exist, a bewildering variety of matters of concern” (ibid., 247).

While, from the point of view of constructivism, there is no such a thing as hard-facts (since all knowledge is socially constructed), concerning oneself purely with this narrow notion of objectivism and matters of fact is constricting. Existence is not divided between an external material and meaningless reality and a world of “psychic additions projected by the human mind” (2008, p. 36), and treating it as such is misguiding.

But then, a problem rises to our attention: “If a thing is a gathering [of connections], as Heidegger says, how striking to see how it can suddenly disband.” (Latour 2004, p. 235). As examples, Latour cites a couple of “former objects that have become things again” such as Climate Change, the hormonal treatment of menopause (ibid., 236), and other scientific matters under public contestation. The problem is that:

And here is where we return to the problem of how criticism has been deformed and how it’s affecting the world today, generating a ‘deconstructive hermeneutics’ (Leone 2017, 228), which responsible for the de-normalization of scientific expertise that we have been witnessing in online social media, and that generated a society “that does not provide itself with inter-subjective, rational patterns for the consolidation of interpretive habits” (Leone 2017, 228) – since this type of thinking takes any habit (or mainstream belief) as being an imposition of power (authority) that, in turn, needs to be dismantled. The consequence of this “is inevitably a chaotic society” where “conflicts constantly arise and are never recomposed” (Leone 2017, 228). So, how do we fix this?

Latour (2004, p. 248) asks: “What would critique do if it could be associated with more, not with less, with multiplication, not subtraction”. To achieve this, all entities need to cease being “objects defined simply by their inputs and outputs and become again things, mediating, assembling, gathering” more connections. He states: “If this were possible then we could let the critics”, or the deconstructivists, “come ever closer to the matters of concern we cherish, and then at last we could tell them: ‘Yes, please, touch them, explain them, deploy them’.”

References

Heidegger, M. (1967). What is a Thing? translated by WB Barton and Vera Deutsch. South Bend, IN: Gateway Editions.

Latour, B., & Woolgar, S. (1979). Laboratory life: The construction of scientific facts. Princeton University Press.

Latour, B. (2004). Why has critique run out of steam? From matters of fact to matters of concern. Critical inquiry, 30(2), 225-248.

Latour, B. (2005). Reassembling the social: An introduction to actor-network-theory. Oup Oxford.

Latour, B. (2008). What is the style of matters of concern. Two Lectures in Empirical Philosophy. Assen, the Netherlands: Koninklijke Van Gorcum.

Latour, B. (2013). An inquiry into modes of existence. Harvard University Press.

Leone, M. (2017). Fundamentalism, Anomie, Conspiracy: Umberto Eco’s Semiotics Against Interpretive Irrationality. In: Umberto Eco in his Own Words, edited by T. Thellefsen, and B. Sørensen, 221–229. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.

The question of whether interventions that are supposed to prevent and counter violent extremism (P/CVE) are actually effective is as pressing as it is often difficult to answer. Evaluating P/CVE interventions is a challenging task, compounded by complex causal chains, dynamic contexts and what is often called the ‘attribution problem’: How, among the many factors that influence an individual’s turn to or away from violent extremist ideas and actions should one isolate the effect of a single P/CVE intervention? (Koehler 2017, 95; Khalil and Zeuthen 2016, 31–32; Vadher 2025, 14). 

An evaluation method that is already gaining traction in other complex fields, such as peacebuilding and development cooperation (Beardmore et al. 2023; Tomei et al. 2024; Carbone et al. 2025) is outcome harvesting. However, in recent years, this method has been discussed as a valuable tool within the P/CVE community, too. The USAID CVE Reference Guide implicitly suggests the method’s utility for the P/CVE field by including a detailed briefing on the method from the Ford Foundation’s MENA office (Wilson-Grau and Britt 2013). Moreover the toolkit for P/CVE evaluations by Holdaway and Simpson (2018, 99) explicitly recommends outcome harvesting as an evaluation tool and in an international survey on evaluation in P/CVE, one respondent from the Côte d’Ivoire pointed to outcome harvesting as a particularly innovative evaluation method (Bressan et al. 2024, 33). This blog post picks up on these pointers by describing the method briefly and discussing its application to the P/CVE field.     

Why evaluating P/CVE is so challenging

Evaluation works best when the evaluated intervention has a clear linear causal logic: A certain input leads to an activity, which produces a predictable outcome. Such a sequence in combination with only few other factors that could produce the outcome other than the intervention lends itself easily to an assessment of whether the intervention was ‘effective’. An evaluative method of choice in this ideal scenario may be a randomised control trial, where the effect of the intervention on one group is compared against the effect of the intervention on a control group. However, the realities of P/CVE are quite different. Since radicalisation is a highly individualised process, interventions need to be tailored and their effects often combine with other key life events, producing complex causality. Moreover, the effects may manifest far beyond the intermediate project scope. All this, in combination with the ethical challenges involved in withholding a P/CVE intervention for a control group, rules out the use of randomised control trials, which are the ‘gold standard’ in evaluation methods. It is beyond the scope to describe these challenges in detail and address each of them with potential solutions (see also the Vortex blogpost ‘On the challenges of evaluating efforts to prevent a causally complex phenomenon such as violent extremism’). Instead, this blog post concentrates on one method as a potential way forward, namely outcome harvesting. After all, what Wilson-Gau and Britt (2013, 2-3) describe here as the setting that makes this method attractive sounds very much like the challenges faced by evaluations of P/CVE interventions: ‘In complex environments (…) objectives and the paths to achieve them are largely unpredictable and predefined objectives and theories of change must be modified over time to respond to changes in the context’. 

What is outcome harvesting?

Outcome harvesting is a participatory evaluation approach where instead of assessing whether activities lead to specified outcomes by pre-established indicators, an upside down logic is at play: The method starts by asking ‘What has changed?’ and only then poses the question: ‘How did the programme contribute to this change?’. Wilson-Gau and Britt (2013, 1) who were also involved in developing this method, define it as follows:

Unlike some evaluation methods, Outcome Harvesting does not measure progress towards predetermined outcomes or objectives, but rather collects evidence of what has been achieved, and works backward to determine whether and how the project or intervention contributed to the change.

Hence, it requires agreement on what the relevant outcome of interest of the specific P/CVE intervention is followed by a collection of evidence on how the intervention contributed to the identified outcome. According to Wilson-Gau and Britt (2013, 1) such evidence can be reported observations, direct critical observation, or direct or simple induced inference (ibid., 7). After such evidence has been collected, outcome harvesting involves a winnowing process where information is ‘validated or substantiate by comparing it to information collected from knowledgeable, independent sources’ (ibid., 1) that are ‘knowledgeable about the outcome(s) and how they were achieved’ (ibid., 5). Finally, this information can be interpreted and a nuanced and reliable statement about effectiveness be made – one that focuses on contribution rather than attribution.

The value of outcome harvesting for evaluating P/CVE interventions

Outcome harvesting does not solve every challenge for evaluating P/CVE yet offers significant advantages over traditional evaluation methods in complex P/CVE contexts. The challenge that P/CVE interventions aim at prevention and thus involve non-events as outcomes is met by shifting the focus to observable proxy outcomes, such as positive behavioural changes. While this is not new and something that is recommended for P/CVE evaluations in general (Holdaway and Simpson 2018, 70; Helmus et al. 2017, 59), outcome harvesting particularly offers a way to deal with the non-linear causality underlying P/CVE interventions. By working backwards from outcomes to activities, it forces the evaluator to map the causal pathway post-hoc, rather than assuming a linear path defined in advance. This also allows to identify emergent and unintended outcomes, which is particularly important in delicate P/CVE interventions. 

Since outcome harvesting by design allows for highly individualised outcomes there is no need for agreement on a common set of indicators for success, ‘making it a good tool to address the cloudiness typically associated with P/CVE evaluative exercises’ (Ris and Ernstorfer 2017, 21–22). While this acknowledges that ‘what indicates success for one might (…) not be the same for another’ (Raets 2022), it also makes comparison more difficult and requires more resources. In general, it is a notable limitation of outcome harvesting that it requires extensive and time-consuming verification – something that is potentially unattractive in a field faced by frequent resource constraints. Lastly, the ‘attribution problem’, the difficulty of proving the P/CVE intervention caused a certain outcome is addressed by focusing on credible contribution instead. Outcome harvesting systematically asks for and verifies the plausibility of the intervention’s contribution, moving from absolute attribution to verifiable contribution. This verification, however, requires, multiple credible sources both in the evidence-collection and in the winnowing process that corroborate both the outcome and that validate the interventions’ contribution. This can be a particular weakness of the method, since there might not be enough stakeholders to include without the risk of selection bias. 

Finally, combining outcome harvesting with a theory of change can be fruitful, since such a theory tells the harvesters what kind of changes are relevant to look at. After outcome harvesting has identified what did happen, these outcomes can be compared to the assumptions stated in the initial theory of change, highlighting successes, surprises and flawed assumptions. However, vice-versa using the reversed logic of outcome harvesting can also help in building a theory of change: ‘By asking what needs to happen for these effects to occur and what resources are necessary to achieve them, the focus shifts to the effects themselves, while at the same time achieving flexibility in terms of measures and resources’ (Klemm and Strobl 2024, 8–9; cite Strobl and Lobermeier 2021, 72). 

In conclusion, while outcome harvesting is not a silver bullet for evaluating P/CVE, it better aligns with the realities of this field than many traditional evaluation approaches. By reversing the usual evaluation logic, it helps evaluators identify credible contributions in complex causal chains to outcomes. Its participatory nature and focus on observable change make it particularly suited to contexts where success is often clouded. However, it demands time and knowledgeable stakeholders that provide evidence and corroborate causal connections, which might not be feasible in every intervention context. Working alongside a theory of change can focus the evaluation exercise but outcome harvesting can also be used to produce one or correct an existing one. Hence, for evaluators seeking to capture the subtle effects of P/CVE interventions, outcome harvesting may not answer every question, but it certainly does stand out as an innovative tool. 

Sources

Beardmore, Amy, Matthew Jones, and Joanne Seal. 2023. ‘Outcome Harvesting as a Methodology for the Retrospective Evaluation of Small-Scale Community Development Interventions’. Evaluation and Program Planning 97 (April): 102235. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.evalprogplan.2023.102235.

Bressan, Sarah, Sophie Ebbecke, and Lotta Rahlf. 2024. How Do We Know What Works in Preventing Violent Extremism? Evidence and Trends in Evaluation from 14 Countries. With Angela Herz and Anna Heckhausen. GPPi; PrEval (PRIF). https://gppi.net/assets/BressanEbbeckeRahlf_How-Do-We-Know-What-Works-in-Preventing-Violent-Extremism_2024_final.pdf.

Carbone, Nicole B., Nathalie Alberto, Kate Henderson, et al. 2025. ‘Use of Outcome Harvesting to Understand the Outcomes of a COVID-19 Pandemic Leadership and Management Program in Six Countries’. Evaluation and Program Planning 111 (August): 102619. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.evalprogplan.2025.102619.

Helmus, Todd C., Miriam Matthews, Rajeev Ramchand, et al. 2017. RAND Program Evaluation Toolkit for Countering Violent Extremism. RAND Corporation. https://www.cvereferenceguide.org/sites/default/files/resources/RAND_CVE%20EVAL%20toolkit.pdf.

Holdaway, Lucy, and Ruth Simpson. 2018. Improving the Impact of Preventing Violent Extremism Programming: A Toolkit for Design, Monitoring and Evaluation. United Nations Development Programme. https://reliefweb.int/report/world/improving-impact-preventing-violent-extremism-programming?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIyOHv38uE_wIVg9Z3Ch1f2AD8EAAYASAAEgJlu_D_BwE.

Khalil, James, and Martine Zeuthen. 2016. Countering Violent Extremism and Risk Reduction: A Guide to Programme Design and Evaluation. Whitehall Report 2-16. Royal United Services Institute. https://static.rusi.org/20160608_cve_and_rr.combined.online4.pdf.

Klemm, Jana, and Rainer Strobl. 2024. Wirkungsmodelle Und Ihr Potenzial Für Evaluation Und Qualitätssicherung in Der Demokratieförderung. PrEval Expertise. PrEval Consortium. https://preval.hsfk.de/fileadmin/PrEval/PrEval_Expertise_01_2024.pdf.

Koehler, Daniel. 2017. ‘Preventing Violent Radicalisation: Programme Design and Evaluation’. In Resilient Cities. Countering Violent Extremism at Local Level, edited by Diego Muro. Barcelona Centre for International Affairs. https://www.cidob.org/en/articulos/monografias/resilient_cities/preventing_violent_radicalisation_programme_design_and_evaluation.

Raets, Sigrid. 2022. ‘Trial and Terror. Countering Violent Extremism and Promoting Disengagement in Belgium’. Journal for Deradicalization Spring 2022 (30): 223–61.

Ris, Lillie, and Anita Ernstorfer. 2017. Borrowing a Wheel: Applying Existing Design, Monitoring and Evaluation Strategies to Emerging Programming Approaches to Prevent and Counter Violent Extremism. Peacebuilding Evaluation Consortium. https://www.cvereferenceguide.org/sites/default/files/resources/Applying-Existing-DME-Strategies-to-Emerging-PCVE-Approaches.pdf.

Strobl, Rainer, and Olaf Lobermeier. 2021. ‘Wirkungen Im Zentrum’. In Evaluation von Programmen Und Projekten Der Demokratieförderung, Vielfaltgestaltung Und Extremismusprävention, edited by Björn Milbradt, Frank Greuel, Stefanie Reiter, and Eva Zimmermann. Beltz Juventa.

Tomei, Gabriele, Linda Terenzi, and Enrico Testi. 2024. ‘Using Outcome Harvesting to Evaluate Socio-Economic Development and Social Innovation Generated by Social Enterprises in Complex Areas. The Case of BADAEL Project in Lebanon’. Evaluation and Program Planning 106 (October): 102475. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.evalprogplan.2024.102475.

Vadher, Kiren. 2025. Evaluating in Complex Policy Environments: A Practitioner’s Perspective. Crest Security Review. Crest (Centre for Research and Evidence on Security Threats).

Wilson-Grau, Ricardo, and Heather Britt. 2013. Outcome Harvesting. Ford Foundation MENA Office. https://www.cvereferenceguide.org/sites/default/files/resources/wilsongrau_en_Outome%20Harvesting%20Brief_revised%20Nov%202013.pdf.

Understanding the “Performative Male” Phenomenon

Over the past year, a new archetype has emerged on social media — the “performative male.” While the “incel” (involuntary celibate) movement has been widely discussed, the performative male points to a different but related dynamic: men who adopt outwardly progressive, feminist-coded behaviors, not necessarily out of conviction, but in order to prove they aren’t a “threat” — often in the hopes of appealing to women. They tote reusable bags, order matcha lattes, read feminist authors, and curate their public appearance to signal allyship. Yet critics argue that this isn’t genuine political engagement. Instead, it’s a performance: a way to date or win approval, rather than deeply internalize feminist values.

At its core, the accusation is that these men are “too much”: too feminist, too sensitive, too socially aware — and that their performativity makes them suspicious. This raises a profound question: does adopting progressive behaviors really demonstrate a rejection of patriarchy, or is it simply a strategy to maintain traditional gender power dynamics under a new guise?

Patriarchy, Performance, and the Gender Divide

This discourse touches on much deeper issues: how men and women perceive patriarchy differently, and how gender identities are renegotiated in contemporary society.

Some women see these “performative males” as inauthentic — as if it’s unthinkable that a man could genuinely believe patriarchy harms everyone, not just women. Why would he read Bell Hooks, or carry a tote bag? Public displays of feminism are sometimes dismissed as romantic or performative rather than principled.

On the other hand, if we take the critique at face value, it points to an exhausting level of labor: how much effort would someone need to expend to “act” like a perfect ally? If the goal is just to date, how sincere can the political alignment be? And if all that work is successful, what prevents the ideas themselves from influencing him? How stable is that performativity when it’s grounded in attraction rather than conviction?

What Science Says: Performative Masculinity Through an Academic Lens

From a social-scientific perspective, the concept of performative masculinity is well established. Susan L. Pitt and Christopher A. Fox argue that masculinity is not a fixed trait but a performance shaped by social interactions and structures, drawing on Bourdieu’s notion of habitus (the ingrained habits and dispositions shaped by one’s social context), West and Zimmerman’s “doing gender,” and Judith Butler’s theory of gender performativity. 

Chris Brickell offers a sociological reappraisal of performativity, cautioning that Butler’s original framing can obscure issues of agency and social change — in other words, while gender is performed, that doesn’t mean individuals are powerless or purely scripted by norms. 

Empirical studies also support how men internalize and negotiate this performance in real-world settings. For instance, a meta-ethnography of male nurses (a profession stereotypically associated with femininity) found that men adopt “soft masculinity” at work — a form of masculinity that embraces caregiving and emotional labor while still negotiating traditional masculine ideals like strength or authority. 

Moreover, rigid, traditional masculinity norms have been shown to negatively affect men’s mental health: a recent systematic review concluded that such norms discourage help-seeking, making men more vulnerable to issues like depression or emotional isolation. 

These academic frameworks suggest that what might look like “just a trend” (performative male behaviors) is actually grounded in deeply embedded social structures. The performance is not superficial alone — it both reflects and reinforces broader norms about what it means to be a “good man” in a changing world.

A Risk to Social Cohesion — or an Opportunity?

While it’s tempting to dismiss the “performative male” trend as a meme or a niche cultural joke, it may also be symptomatic of a deeper gender and political rift. In many societies, younger men are gravitating toward far-right politics, while younger women are increasingly aligning with progressive movements. This ideological polarization isn’t only about dating — it may reflect a broader disconnection between genders.

In extreme cases — such as with the incel community — some men feel alienated and misunderstood. Rather than seeing patriarchy as something that hurts men too (through rigid emotional norms, social isolation, mental health crises, or violence), they may react with aggression or withdrawal. In contrast, “performative males” might represent another response: rather than rebelling outwardly, they try to soften into a new social persona, perhaps hoping to be accepted or loved.

The tension here is political, relational, and deeply cultural. If we dismiss “performative males” as insincere, we risk shutting down dialogue. But if we uncritically celebrate them, we may ignore how much of their behavior might be strategic rather than transformational.

Why This Conversation Matters

1. Reframing Patriarchy: Feminist discourse has long argued that patriarchy isn’t just a women’s issue — it also harms men. From emotional repression to higher suicide rates, men suffer under rigid gender norms. But the conversation often excludes those who perform but don’t necessarily transform.
2. Authenticity vs. Strategy: The “performative male” raises a key question: how do we distinguish between genuine allyship and tactical signaling? And does that distinction matter if the behavior helps challenge traditional norms?
3. Social Cohesion & Future Alliances: If men feel alienated from feminist discourse — or if feminist discourse is perceived as virtue signaling — then potential alliances for social change weaken. Bridging that gap might require more than performative gestures; it demands real conversations about power, vulnerability, and shared futures.

Final Thoughts

The “performative male” may at first glance seem like a joke or a meme, but it’s part of a deeper story about how men are navigating, rejecting, or reshaping patriarchy. Whether this behavior is strategic, sincere, or somewhere in between, it reveals a generational grappling with gender, power, and belonging. If we want a more equal society, we need to ask ourselves: Can we turn performance into genuine transformation? Can we give men space not just to act as ally, but to be allies — fully, imperfectly, and authentically?

Bibliography

Brickell, Chris. Masculinities, Performativity, and Subversion: A Sociological Reappraisal. Men and Masculinities, 8(1), 24-43. 

Butler, Judith. (1990). Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York: Routledge.

Liu, H.-Y., Han, H.-M., Chao, C.-Y., Chen, H.-F., & Wu, S.-M. (2022). Performative Masculinity: A META-Ethnography of Experiences of Men in Academic and Clinical Nursing. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 19(22), 14813. 

Pitt, Susan L., & Fox, Christopher A. (2012). Performative Masculinity: A New Theory on Masculinity. In Masculinity/Femininity: Re-framing a Fragmented Debate (pp. 37–46). Brill. 

West, Candace, Zimmerman, Don H. (1987). Doing Gender. Gender & Society, 1(2), 125–151. 

Remembering the Attacks for their 10th Anniversary Commemoration

On the evening of November 13, 2015, a series of coordinated terrorist attacks struck Paris: suicide bombings near the Stade de France in Saint-Denis, shootings on several café terraces, and a mass killing inside the Bataclan concert hall. The attacks left 132 dead and hundreds injured, marking one of the darkest nights in contemporary French history. They profoundly shaped France’s collective memory, national identity, and approach to internal security.

The commemorative day, on November 13, 2025, followed a carefully structured itinerary blending local acts of remembrance with a national ceremony. In the morning, officials gathered near the Stade de France to honor the first victims of the evening. The presidential delegation then visited, one by one, the sites of the terrace attacks — Le Carillon, Le Petit Cambodge, La Belle Équipe, and others — allowing families, survivors, and residents to lay flowers, candles, and written messages. Commemorative plaques were cleaned or newly adorned, as each stop revived the tragic geography of that night.

In the afternoon, the Bataclan remembrance brought together survivors, families, officials, and members of the public. This particular moment, historically the most emotionally charged, was marked by silence, music, and the reading of names.

The central event of the day took place in the early evening with the inauguration of the new Memorial Garden at Place Saint-Gervais, opposite the Hôtel de Ville. Designed as a permanent space of contemplation, the garden mirrors the locations of the attacks through its layout: stone blocks, landscaped areas, and markers symbolizing each site. During the ceremony, the names and faces of the victims were projected on the façade of Saint-Gervais Church, reinforcing the collective and visual dimension of remembrance.

The ceremony alternated official speeches, musical interludes, and moments of silence. Artists and survivors participated, and the reading of the 132 names constituted the emotional center of the commemoration. Public lighting elements, including the Eiffel Tower illuminated in national colors, extended the symbolic reach of the event throughout the city.

During his speech, President Emmanuel Macron paid tribute to the victims and reaffirmed the responsibility of the state to protect its citizens, insisting that the “insensate, unjust pain” felt by families is carried by the entire nation. Representatives of victims’ associations echoed this message, insisting on the need for truth, justice, and long-term memory.

Symbols and Their Meaning — A Memory Intertwined With the Securitization of the Nation

Beyond remembrance, the ceremony conveyed a deeper symbolic layer linked to a broader process of securitization — the way a society constructs certain threats as existential and justifies extraordinary measures to counter them. In that way, the 10th anniversary made visible how memory and security narratives now reinforce one another in France.

Firstly, the new memorial garden is not only a site of tribute; it is a spatialization of national vulnerability. Its permanent architecture — stone, structured pathways, sober vegetal design — embodies the idea that the country must remember the threat as much as the loss.

By transforming memory into an officially sanctioned, carefully designed public space, the state anchors the attacks into the physical and symbolic landscape, constituting a form of securitization through space: the memorial reminds citizens that internal security is fragile and must be continually defended.

Secondly, the presence of the President, the Mayor of Paris, police representatives, local officials, and victims’ associations underscores a national community gathered around an existential issue. Ceremonial gestures — reading names, military or civic honors, national songs — reaffirm the idea that the state is the primary guardian of collective safety.

This choreography is not neutral: it legitimizes the state’s exceptional measures, including strengthened counterterrorism capacities, long-term vigilance, and security reforms initiated since 2015. The ceremony thus sustains a narrative in which memorial duty and national protection are inseparable.

Thirdly, the projections of faces, the lighting of façades, and musical tributes humanize the tragedy while also universalizing vulnerability. By placing victims’ images in the public sphere, the ceremony conveys a subtle but powerful message: these were ordinary people, and the threat could target anyone.

This emotional framing does not only commemorate; it cultivates a shared sense of vigilance, a key element of securitization in democratic societies where consent to enhanced security relies on public understanding of danger.

Lastly, symbols of life — candles, flowers, gatherings, songs — are often viewed as expressions of resilience. Yet they also act as affirmations of what must be protected. The ability to gather, to live freely, to rebuild, becomes itself a justification for security measures.

Resilience thus functions as a moral counterpart to vigilance, shaping a story in which protecting daily life becomes a matter of national security.

Conclusion

A decade after the attacks, the 10th-anniversary commemoration sought to balance the intimacy of personal loss with the public responsibilities of the state. Through architecture, ritual, music, and light, the ceremony honored the victims while embedding the memory of November 13 into a broader narrative of protection and collective vigilance.

The names read aloud, the faces projected onto city walls, and the new memorial garden will continue to act as emotional and political touchstones — reminders not only of what was lost, but of what a nation commits to safeguard.