{PSOCIAL}

The aspiration to identify with all humanity suggests more than a broad social attitude or a cosmopolitan openness; it implies the possibility of a global community, or at least a movement toward one. Such a community would consist of persons whose actions are guided by a concern for others strong enough to temper fear for themselves, and by a commitment to justice that invites participation in the governance of our shared world. In this sense, the idea of a global community reflects the two components of global consciousness described by Liu and MacDonald (2016): an awareness of our interconnectedness and differences, together with the willingness to take moral action in light of that awareness. To move toward such a community, emotional ties must be cultivated. Rituals—symbolic practices that relate us to one another and to an often ineffable reality that elicits awe—may play a central role in fostering those ties. As embodied agents, we exist within emotional relationships that shape and constrain our actions. What we do depends on the support or resistance of others, and both we and they are motivated by desires for care as well as impulses toward aggressive assertion. These motivations unfold within relationships that always involve some degree of caring for others and some degree of fear for the self. It is easy to neglect this basic motivational structure, yet it originates in the earliest conditions of human life. The infant depends completely upon the caregiver, and abandonment becomes the most fundamental fear. The developing self emerges within primary love relationships, whose patterns of reassurance, vulnerability, and support continue to influence emotional life long into adulthood. When adults confront situations they cannot control, the need for support echoes the infant’s condition; and when agency encounters resistance, aggressive tendencies arise. Socialization consists in learning how to manage these impulses so that fear does not overwhelm caring. If a global community is to be more than an attractive idea, it must rest on an understanding of these emotional dynamics. In this article, I reflect on how caring and fear shape human relationships, how rituals may function as emotional technologies that expand identification beyond local boundaries, and how these practices might contribute to the emergence of a more caring global world. The aim is not to offer a definitive theory, but to explore the psychological conditions that make such a community possible and to consider the forms of ritual that may support its creation. The following reflections are offered in this spirit of inquiry.

Human dependence forms a fundamental motivational basis that continues to shape experience throughout life. Whenever adults sense that they rely on forces they cannot control, their need for reassurance parallels the infant’s dependence on the caregiver. And whenever the self’s agency encounters resistance, an impulse toward aggressive assertion naturally arises. Yet because our lives are embedded in relations of mutual dependence, this impulse cannot be expressed without constraint; it must be managed if caring relationships are to be preserved. Socialization is the process through which children—and later adults—learn to regulate these aggressive tendencies so that fear does not eclipse the possibility of trust. When reassurance is sufficient, the underlying fear is tempered and caring can guide interactions. But when individuals enter into conflict, fear for the self tends to overshadow concern for the other, and adversarial relations emerge. Under conditions in which fear becomes dominant, persons may cope either by striving for power and acting primarily in their own interest or by complying with others in order to avoid being hurt. This pervasive fear undermines the development of communal relations and limits the extent to which social harmony can rest on enlightened self-interest alone. True community requires conditions in which caring is strong enough—and fear sufficiently contained—to allow mutual recognition and cooperation to flourish.

The frictions that emerge among agents in any society do not dissolve on their own; they are mediated through the relational structures described by Fiske (1993). These structures provide shared norms that coordinate conduct, and adherence to those norms is not merely encouraged but actively enforced. In this sense, adults are not passive inhabitants of a social order—they are its ongoing architects. A society does not simply unfold; it must be continually sustained, interpreted, and recreated by its members.

Across history, human groups have devised remarkably diverse forms of social organization (Graeber and Wengrow, 2021). Some succeed in cultivating relations in which caring predominates over fear and personal autonomy can flourish. Others, however, respond to the underlying anxiety of being uncared for by elevating self-reliance as a moral imperative or by valorizing obedience to a benevolent authority. Contemporary debates often reflect this tension, manifesting as a struggle between an individualistic ideology that privileges personal desires above communal needs and a collectivistic ideology that subordinates individual rights to the demands of the group.

When fear becomes the primary regulator of these relationships—both within and between societies—interaction tends to take on an adversarial character. Conversely, to the extent that caring can temper fear, societies become capable of engaging one another communally, allowing each to thrive through mutual recognition rather than competition (Shapiro, 2016). The challenge, then, is not merely structural or ideological, but emotional: the cultivation of relational forms in which fear is acknowledged yet does not dominate.

The ongoing tension between caring and fear finds one of its most eloquent expressions in the rituals that human groups create to sustain themselves. Rituals can strengthen unity by foregrounding celebrations of mutual care, or they may consolidate defensive boundaries that manage internal fear by directing aggression outward. National ceremonies illustrate this duality well: a national anthem may call forth a sense of belonging by praising the beauty of a shared land, or it may emphasize triumph over enemies, cultivating a vigilant, protective posture. If a global community is to emerge, it will require ritual forms that symbolize the primacy of caring over fear. Unlike many state ceremonies that evoke elation while reinforcing the need for defense, communal celebrations may invite openness and joy (de Rivera, Possell, Verette, & Weiner, 1989). They quiet fear by encouraging reciprocity and reminding participants of their shared vulnerability and interdependence (de Rivera, 2022). Such celebrations—particularly when they include members of different groups—can expand the boundaries of human identity and contribute to emotional climates of hope and optimism, both of which are essential for reducing intergroup conflict (Bar-Tal et al., 2007). Recent empirical work provides intriguing evidence that certain ritualized gatherings can evoke experiences that transcend ordinary social bonds. The transpersonal emotions described by Bouchat et al. (2024), for instance, may reflect the extent to which caring becomes dominant in collective settings. Similarly, the transformations reported in large secular gatherings studied by Yudkin et al. (2022) appear to arise from the creation of intense communal experiences—moments in which participants sense themselves as part of something larger, not because they share an ideology, but because they share an embodied emotional field. These phenomena resonate with older ritual forms as well. The music, dance, and shared stillness observed in what Matthew Fox calls “cosmic masses” evoke a depth of unity that goes beyond the emotions typically associated with teamwork or group cohesion. They cultivate a kind of spiritual communality—a felt sense of belonging to an encompassing whole that neither erases individuality nor collapses difference. Instead, such rituals reveal how persons, as embodied agents, may come to experience themselves as part of a wider fabric of care.

As Feng et al. (2024) show, global social identification can be measured in several ways. One such measure—the sense of global community—can be temporarily increased through simple symbolic cues, such as exposure to the United Nations flag or to websites presenting solutions-oriented global news (de Rivera & Mahoney, 2018). This sense of connection may also be shaped through global celebrations. Themes for such celebrations often involve gratitude toward the ancestors who developed the seeds, medicines, and technologies we rely on today, as well as a commitment to building justice for the children who will inherit the world. In a sample of 2,000 participants from twenty-five nations, people endorsed at least eight global themes they would like to see commemorated, and more than 65% across twenty-three nations reported willingness to participate in global celebrations (de Rivera, 2018). In an online study, students who used one of these themes to imagine a celebration significantly increased their reported sense of global community.

Yet strengthening a sense of global community does not, by itself, translate into support for reducing fear-based policies. In the study just mentioned, an increased sense of global community did not make U.S. students more willing to eliminate nuclear weapons. When presented with a scale assessing peaceful governmental action, responses were predicted as much by the perceived security offered by nuclear weapons as by feelings of global community.

This suggests that cultivating an actual global community—rather than merely the sense of one—requires engagement in governance. Rituals cannot remain confined to reinforcing care for those already within our circle; they must also empower us to intend justice for the billions of persons we will never meet. To do so, it would be useful to develop measures that assess the willingness to take political action on behalf of justice.

A global community requires that we routinely acknowledge our common humanity, and much of this work can be advanced through the study of ritual. I suggest five lines of research that may help clarify how communal emotions emerge and how they might be cultivated at a global scale.

First, for more than a century, world fairs, interreligious parliaments, international music festivals, sporting events, and Olympic ceremonies have provided occasions for large-scale collective experience. We need systematic research examining when participation in, or observation of, such events enhances identification with all humanity rather than merely intensifying group pride.

Second, following the examples described by Dario and Camilo, we should carefully document the emotional character of diverse collective gatherings. The exhilaration present in political rallies is likely different from the more inclusive joy evoked in civic festivals. Identity fusion may operate differently from identity expansion, and the latter may be more closely tied to awe and inclusive concern. Distinguishing these forms of emotional intensity may refine our measures of collective experience.

Third, procedural rules of the United Nations mandate a minute of silence at the opening and closing of each General Assembly session. This practice has been extended to commemorate significant events. It would be useful to interview delegates regarding their emotional engagement, their perceptions of its instrumental value, and their support for expanding such moments. Evidence that these practices foster reflection or mutual recognition could encourage their broader adoption.

Fourth, the United Nations marks important events through international days. These pages are among the most visited on UN websites, suggesting a global interest that varies across regions and languages. Each year, on 10 December, the International Day of Human Rights commemorates the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Despite disagreements, a substantial consensus is emerging around their content, and the Human Rights Council regularly reviews their observance in all member states. Local celebrations on this day could encourage a sense of shared responsibility for justice and promote cooperative, rather than adversarial, engagement among individuals across nations.

Fifth, the World Wildlife Fund’s Earth Hour invites individuals, communities, and institutions to turn off non-essential lights for one hour. What began in Sydney in 2007 has grown to include observances in 194 countries and billions of social media impressions. It may be possible to deepen its symbolic value by framing it as a ritual acknowledgment of our dependence on the Earth and Sun, an expression of gratitude for the abundance we receive, and a gesture of care for the more-than-human world. One could test whether presenting Earth Hour in this way—accompanied by music, art, or images that evoke awe—enhances participation, emotional resonance, or support for sustainable policies.

These are only preliminary suggestions. Yet they point toward a broader possibility: that shared rituals can help cultivate the emotional foundations of a global community. I look forward to learning from ongoing research and to seeing whether some of these avenues might contribute to the creation of a more caring and less fearful world.