In 1974, in a gallery in Naples, Marina Abramović stood completely still. On a table beside her sat 72 objects: a rose, feather, perfume, knife, whip, and even a loaded gun. A sign read, “You can use any of these objects on me as you wish. I am the object. For six hours, I take full responsibility.“
The performance was called Rhythm 0. At first, people were gentle; someone placed the rose in her hands while another kissed her cheek. But as the hours passed, something shifted. Her clothes were cut from her body, she was groped, and a thorn was pressed into her skin. The loaded gun was reportedly placed against her head. Then, something even more revealing happened.
When the six hours ended and she began moving again, she was no longer an “object,” and many in the crowd could not meet her eyes. They simply left.
So, What Changed? Abramović didn’t change; the room didn’t change. What did change was “permission”.
The moment responsibility was suspended, the boundary dissolved, and that boundary, it turns out, is thinner than we like to believe.
The Electric Switch
A decade earlier, at Yale University, psychologist Stanley Milgram ran a study now known as the Milgram experiment. Participants were told they were helping with a learning study and were instructed to administer electric shocks to another person whenever he answered incorrectly. The shocks increased in voltage each time. The screams from the other room sounded real, the pain sounded real, and the pleading sounded real; only the shocks were fake. But the participants didn’t know that. Most of them continued, not because they were sadists, but because a man in a lab coat calmly said, “The experiment requires that you continue.” They obeyed, not out of cruelty, but out of structure, authority, and diffused responsibility.
The Prison That Wasn’t
In 1971, in the basement of Stanford University, psychologist Philip Zimbardo conducted what became the Stanford prison experiment. College students were randomly assigned to be “guards” or “prisoners.” No one was forced to be cruel, nor was anyone instructed to humiliate. And yet, within days, the guards became authoritarian, and the prisoners became submissive. Psychological harm escalated so quickly that the experiment was stopped early. Normal students, temporary roles, minimal oversight- suddenly, power distorted behavior.
The Pattern We Don’t Want to See
Three different settings- an art gallery, a laboratory, a university basement. Three different contexts, but the same unsettling pattern emerges: when authority justifies harm, responsibility becomes unclear, consequences disappear, or someone is reduced to an “object,” restraint weakens.
Psychologists call it:
- Diffusion of responsibility – “It’s not really my fault.”
- Deindividuation – “I’m just part of the crowd.”
- Obedience to authority – “I was told to.”
- Role absorption – “This is what guards do.”
And perhaps something deeper: the shadow. Carl Jung described the shadow as the part of us we don’t like to acknowledge- aggression, dominance, cruelty, the desire for power. Most of the time, society, rules, reputation, and consequences contain it. But when those structures loosen, the shadow doesn’t disappear; it steps forward.
The Uncomfortable Question
It’s easy to read these stories and think, “I would never.” But that’s exactly what most participants believed about themselves. The truth isn’t that humans are monsters; the truth is more sobering: we are highly sensitive to context. We bend more than we think, and under the right conditions, we can justify more than we imagine. But here’s the part often ignored: in every one of these cases, some people resisted. Some refused to press the switch, some intervened to protect Abramović, and some guards did not escalate abuse. The same psychology that allows harm also allows courage.
So, What Does This Mean For Us?
Today, we live in environments where anonymity is easy, online crowds form instantly, authority can be algorithmic, and dehumanization happens through a screen. If consequences feel distant, if responsibility feels shared, if the target feels abstract- what version of you emerges?
Closing Note
The real experiment isn’t in a gallery in 1974; it’s in comment sections, in offices, in group chats, in moments where no one would know. The boundary is thin. The question is not whether you have a shadow- we all do. Most people believe they would never harm someone innocent; well, most people are wrong. Culture isn’t tested when things are easy; it’s tested when consequences disappear. And history shows how quickly behavior changes.
The real question is: When the structure disappears- Who do you CHOOSE to be?