The Psychology of Influence, Empathy, and the American Mind

Community Psychology was one of the most transformative courses I ever took. At Old Dominion University, my professor helped open my eyes to the deeper currents of how society works—not just at the individual level, but through the influence of community, environment, and the masses. That class didn’t just offer theory—it revealed how people think and behave in groups, how the herd mentality forms, and how change (or resistance to it) can ripple through entire communities.

That lens changed how I see everything—from politics to parenting. It helped me understand that what we’re facing today is not just political polarization—it’s psychological warfare. People often reduce what we’re living through to left vs. right, or Trump vs. Biden, but those are just the symptoms. The real illness is deeper and more strategic. Trump didn’t just appear. His rise was planned for decades, and he said long ago that he’d run with whichever party would support him. His manipulation, gaslighting, triangulation, and ability to warp people's perceptions are straight out of a psychological playbook.

What’s happening isn’t new. These are patterns, and anyone who has lived through or studied psychological abuse can see them clearly. I’ve been there—I lived it as a child and again as an adult. I see the red flags. I see how people are influenced by words, by identity politics, by fear. And I see how difficult it is for people to talk about it—because so few even understand it. But we must start talking about it.

Our minds are like computers—complex, sensitive, and influenced by what we absorb. Yet we’ve abandoned science and critical thinking. We’ve replaced research with memes, replaced discussion with rage. And worse, many confuse pseudoscience or marketing (like thinking essential oils are the only form of healing) for true scientific understanding. Natural remedies have their place, but belief alone cannot replace informed action. This is much like the placebo effect in psychology—where a person believes they’re receiving a real treatment, and the belief itself produces an effect, even if the substance is inert. In modern society, too many of us are living off placebos—taking in information that has no value, no truth, but believing it works simply because it’s familiar or comforting.

This is why community psychology matters. It’s not just about individual healing—it’s about understanding how communities think, react, and grow. Dr. Seymour Sarason, a pioneer of community psychology, once said:

“Psychological sense of community is a feeling that one belongs, that one matters to one another and to the group, and a shared faith that members’ needs will be met by the commitment to be together.”

We’ve lost that shared faith. We’ve become a society of “me.” Since the 1980s and ’90s, narcissism has been normalized. The “look at me, I’m better than you” culture has taken root. Even among those raising the next generation, there is a disturbing pattern of blaming everyone else without taking personal responsibility. And that creates generations of emotionally stunted individuals who can't self-reflect or grow.

This is why we must revisit the conversation of nurture vs. nature. It’s been forgotten. The truth is, how we raise children, how we treat each other in communities, and how we structure society—these all shape behavior. Psychological manipulation and trauma don’t come out of nowhere; they are cultivated through systems, silence, and neglect.

We’ve also forgotten the power of philosophy. Our society shuns deep intellectual and moral inquiry. Christian groups in particular, I say respectfully, have often shamed philosophy—yet it is one of the most important tools we have to understand the human condition. The Bible itself is full of philosophical dilemmas. So are other religious texts. When we cut off philosophy, we lose critical thinking, compassion, and dialogue. We stop being humans trying to understand our place—and instead become parrots repeating what we’re told.

For me, as a Christian woman, I believe that our paths are not mapped by man, but by God. We may have goals, but our true path is guided by something bigger than ambition. That doesn’t mean we don’t work hard. It means we remain open to deeper lessons and uncomfortable truths.

Empathy is one of those truths. If someone fights for their “rights” but shows no empathy for others—they are part of the problem. Period. Empathy is not weakness; it’s strength. It’s the key to unity. It’s also the foundation of learning. And we must relearn how to teach it.

So many in our country are under the influence of psychological conditioning. I’ve seen it firsthand during my national travels. People once open-minded, curious, and kind become angry, reactive, and narrow-minded after constant exposure to one-sided news and ideology. The mental shift is striking. It’s not just politics—it’s identity, fear, and programming.

That’s why I believe we need to be students again—students of psychology, philosophy, history, and each other. You can’t just read one textbook. You must read many—from different schools, perspectives, and cultural lenses. You can tell a biased source not by what it says, but by what it leaves out. True education is about contradiction and synthesis.

I’m not trying to be an influencer. I’m not a content creator. I’m just someone who has lived it, studied it, and chosen to speak out. I’ve always been the black sheep. I’ve always walked outside the herd—not because I dislike the herd, but because I see things differently. That doesn’t make me better. It just means I’m meant to plant seeds, not follow scripts.

If you’ve read this far, I hope you understand: this isn’t about politics. It’s about humanity. If we don’t return to empathy, deep thought, and community truth—we are going to keep repeating the same psychological patterns that have fractured civilizations for centuries. And America is no exception.

Let’s break the cycle. Let’s start talking.