Bandura on Selective Moral Disengagement
How we cope with, and rationalise inflicting physical and emotional pain and discomfort on others
Updated 18th May, 2025. The original article can be viewed here
As I observe this world of people, it seems that moral disengagement is active everywhere, not least among politicians and corporate leaders. In the workplace, for example, many choose to ignore immoral and unethical practices. We put our heads down, blinkers on, and just get on with the work when we know very well that what is going on is unacceptable. For example, when a colleague is mistreated by management or when underhanded tactics are used to cheat a customer. To speak up is to expose oneself and risk too much. Recognising this, Albert Bandura cites Thomas Gabor (1994)1, who wrote that there is a “pervasiveness of moral disengagement by people of all statuses in all walks of life.”
In his 2002 paper2, Badura wrote that given the many mechanisms for disengaging moral control, civilised life requires, in addition to humane personal standards, safeguards built into social systems that uphold compassionate behaviour and renounce cruelty. We like to think of ourselves as rational and caring, that these attributes are basic aspects of humanity, but I'm not so sure. Moral principles seem to be present in society, but they are often manipulated for nefarious ends, and we don't seem to notice. In international affairs, these standards and safeguards seem to be absent in large part. In everyday life, it's a see-sawing between what we can get away with and what we can't, or, put more politically, what we perceive as acceptable and not.
What is rational anyway–does anyone know? It implies that we can be objective, that we can stand back from a situation and be independent of it in our judgement. But, of course, we can't because we have unconscious bias built in. At the same time, I think we know deep down, even if the conditioning of culture says otherwise, what is right moral behaviour and what is not. Why would any human being who counts the needs of others with the same weight as their own drop bombs on civilians just to hit a handful of so-called terrorists? Where is empathy and compassion here? Something must happen psychologically to allow us to make this leap to mass murder. Distance from the blood and tears helps us dehumanise and justify the worst of actions.
State propaganda likes to tell us what a terrorist looks like, and we soak it up, ignoring the finer detail. Why do young men join paramilitary organisations? Answer: The injustice and the brutalisation of their people force them into it, and we have ample evidence for this. Post Bloody Sunday, 30th January 1972, when British soldiers shot 26 unarmed civilians at a human rights march in the Bogside, Derry, the IRA saw the largest number of young people join their ranks. Almost 60 years before, the British Government considered James Connolly, Padraig Pearse and their fellow Irish freedom fighters as terrorists. The British later executed fourteen men by firing squad in Kilmainham jail for their part in the 1916 Easter Rising. But to the Irish, they were heroes, and it gave us the seed of freedom from British occupation. Soon, by the way, that process will be complete.
With the ongoing murder and destruction of the Palestinian way of life, political figures run for cover. They show themselves as having no moral courage, no backbone. Take Kier Starmer, for example, the former human rights lawyer (can you believe it!) and current British Prime Minister. His government has overseen the sale of arms to Israel to the tune of $169m in the three months following the Labour government’s partial suspension of arms. The revoking of arms licences was, of course, merely a smoke screen to hide their obligations to the Israelis.
And what about the Conservative opposition in the UK? Shadow Foreign Secretary Andrew Mitchell criticised the revoking of arms licences, saying that he “feared” the decision would “offend Israel”. You can read about it in the British House of Commons Library. It seems that causing offence to Israel weighed more on the minds of some people than the deaths of tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians. Kill who you like, just don't offend anyone. It is an insane position.
It's hard to comprehend the degree of destruction that has taken place in Gaza. What was a thriving community, albeit effectively a giant concentration camp, the Israelis have laid to waste. Why has the international community allowed this? Is the safety and welfare of our fellow human beings not of primary concern here? Why is it that politicians put “saving face” or other forms of self-preservation ahead of the welfare of people? We witness outrage from British and US governments over Russia's aggression in Ukraine, and zero outrage over Israel's complete annihilation of life and property in Gaza?
My only conclusion here is that those responsible–the Israeli government, the Israeli people who support the annihilation, international corporations, politicians, and arms manufacturers–care more for profit and profile than for human life. They have forgone their humanity and reduced the rights and needs of those who suffer to insignificance. The Israelis regard Palestinians as “human animals”, when ironically it appears the Israelis have assumed a level of existence below that of animals. Some lives are apparently more valuable than others.
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I deliver lectures on ethics to business, social science and psychology students at undergrad and post-grad levels. It is a topic that perhaps I did not pay too much attention to when I was studying. But since discovering the work of people like Erich Fromm and Albert Bandura, I began taking a firm interest in ethics. According to Bandura, without a sound personal and societal moral and ethical position that accounts for the needs of all, we are prone to act reprehensibly and then find justification for it.
Our ethical position and our view of the rights and dignity of others are the basis of our relationships in business, politics, the workplace, sport, broader society and personal life, or, at least, they should be. Without ethics, all bets are off, everything is permissible, and the most heinous acts are allowed and encouraged, even in the name of God. Ego identity is very clearly wrapped up in this act of psychological and emotional gymnastics of selective moral disengagement.
It's not only governments that forgo their moral principles, though. In his book Everybody Does It, Thomas Gabor states that so-called respectable citizens account for a large proportion of crime, including theft, fraud, tax evasion, assault, sex offences, business scams, political and corporate crime, looting and vigilantism. Ever take stationery from the office for personal use? Have you ever walked away as bullies intimidated a classmate for fear that you'd receive the same? Or maybe you failed to intervene when a father was verbally abusing his child in public. The point is, we all behave in ways that, after the fact, we feel we should have acted differently. Or maybe we find justification for what happened, or convince ourselves that there was nothing we could do.
Selective moral disengagement is often a necessary strategy where the needs of one ethnic group are not only subjugated but also oppressed by another, often more powerful group. The phenomenon has been widely studied in the field of psychology, for example, in sport3, business4, and most notably perhaps, more generally by Albert Bandura in 20035.
Bandura dedicated his career to understanding the complexities of human behaviour, and one of his most significant contributions is his research on moral agency. It sheds light on the cognitive processes we employ to protect our self-image, to preserve our sense of self and justify our actions. These studies point to the intricate mechanisms by which people manipulate their moral compass and disregard the humanity of others in pursuit of personal or group advancement or survival. It is a feature, for example, of Colonialism in all its guises across modern human history and as it plays out in our world today.
What is Selective Moral Disengagement?
Bandura's influential Social Cognitive Theory6 proposes that moral disengagement is not a result of inherent immorality, but rather a cognitive process that allows us to distance ourselves from the ethical implications of our behaviour. He provides compelling evidence of how we morally disengage by convincing ourselves that our behaviour is reasonable or necessary. It is particularly prevalent in situations where we feel threatened, pressured, or face conflicting moral values. At its core, Selective Moral Disengagement involves the activation of cognitive processes that detach our moral standards (if indeed we have any to begin with) from our behaviour.
It is a way for us to distance ourselves from the potential or actual negative consequences of our actions while maintaining a positive self-image. Take, for example, the popular trope, “nothing personal, it’s just business”. It's a feature of the competitive marketplace and allows us to justify the profit motive over concern for others. If we are not otherwise psychopathic to begin with, we may behave in psychopathic ways by removing ourselves from the responsibility of our actions. Personality psychologist Robert Hogan7 suggests that aspects of dark trait personality and their associated outcomes can come to the fore where conditions force us to act as we might not otherwise.
Social Norms
One factor that influences selective moral disengagement is the presence of social norms that condone or even encourage unethical behaviour. For example, in a business setting, if an organisation's culture promotes a win-at-all-costs philosophy, employees may feel justified in engaging in dishonest practices to achieve their goals. It is the power of the group or crowd to influence everyone's behaviour. We rationalise by telling ourselves, if this is how it’s done, then this must be ok, even though I might be less inclined to do this if I were left to my own cognitive devices. Regardless of how honourable you might be, if placed in an environment of dishonesty for a long time, your ethical standards may be negatively impacted.
Diffusion of Responsibility
When we are part of a group or organisation, we may feel less personally responsible for our actions. Everybody and nobody is responsible. My behaviour seems coherent with that of the group. “I was just doing my job,” or “I was doing what I was told,” are familiar responses when we're held to account for unethical behaviour. This is an inherent problem with hierarchical systems in the workplace. When we insist that people work only from the neck down, we remove their capacity to think and to create. They become automatons and simply row in with whatever is the culture of the group. Individuality is foregone, and one mind amongst the collective is operational.
This diffusion of responsibility can lead to a weakening of our moral compass, as we believe our actions are justifiable because we are acting in coherence with the larger entity. This mindset can be particularly prevalent in corporate settings, where decisions are often made collectively, and individuals may feel less accountable for the consequences of their actions.
Mechanisms of Selective Moral Disengagement
Bandura identified nine psychological mechanisms that enable us and the groups to which we belong to selectively disengage our moral standards, if, indeed, we had them to begin with.
1. Moral Justification
A factor that contributes to selective moral disengagement is moral justification. Here we reinterpret our actions in a way that aligns with our moral standards. We may convince ourselves, for example, that our behaviour is necessary to achieve a greater good or that it is justified because others with higher authority have engaged in similar behaviour. Religion, for example, despite its evident moral foundations, often provides us with the cover we need to behave immorally. By rationalising our behaviour this way, we can alleviate the cognitive dissonance that arises from acting against our moral principles. And of course, this begs the question: What is the greater good, and who gets to decide?
According to Bandura, much abhorrent behaviour has been perpetrated by ordinary, decent people in the name of righteous ideologies. Religious principles and nationalistic imperatives, for example. Adversaries sanctify military actions and justify the deaths of civilians, but condemn those of their enemies as barbarity. Each side feels morally superior to the other and uses every means at its disposal to capture the popular narrative, to win the propaganda war.
2. Euphemistic Language
Euphemistic labelling refers to the use of language or labels that downplay the negative nature of an action. By employing less harsh or neutral terms, individuals can mitigate the moral implications of their behaviour. Bandura says that language shapes thought patterns on which actions are based, and activities take on different appearances depending on what they are called. Euphemistic language is used widely by governments and their PR machines to make harmful conduct respectable and to reduce personal responsibility. As such, euphemising is an injurious weapon. People behave much more cruelly when assaultive actions are sanitised than when they are called aggression.
Consider the case of a company that engages in unethical business practices, such as exploiting workers in sweatshops. Instead of acknowledging the harsh reality of their actions, they may use euphemistic labels such as “cost-effective labour solutions” or “global sourcing strategies” to sanitise their actions. By using these terms, they attempt to soften the negative perception of their behaviour in the eyes of the public and avoid moral responsibility. It is all about creating a false image, one that hides their true face.
3. Advantageous Comparison
People justify their harmful actions by comparing them to worse behaviours. By framing their conduct as less severe, they make it seem acceptable or even noble. For example, terrorists portray their attacks as minor compared to the historical atrocities committed against their communities. Military forces often describe destructive campaigns as necessary interventions to prevent greater evils, such as communist rule or “terrorist” oppression. As we have come to know, democratic states often employ euphemisms and propaganda to promote their agenda. Supporters of political violence argue that even democracies like France and the United States relied on violence to gain freedom.
People also use utilitarian arguments to justify their actions. For example, the atomic bombs the US dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. The argument was that it prevented a larger loss of life if the war had continued. They claim that their behaviour prevents more suffering than it causes. This reasoning rests on rejecting non-violent alternatives as ineffective and predicting favourable long-term outcomes. However, people often misjudge these outcomes due to biases and uncertainty. By comparing their actions to extreme inhumanities or portraying them as the lesser of two evils, they avoid moral self-sanction and preserve their self-image as moral actors.
4. Displacement of Responsibility
This mechanism involves shifting responsibility onto others or external factors, absolving oneself from personal accountability for unethical conduct. Bandura suggests that moral control operates most strongly when people acknowledge that they are contributors to harmful outcomes. Displacement of responsibility operates by obscuring or minimising the agentive role in the harm we might cause. People will behave in ways they normally repudiate if a legitimate authority accepts responsibility for the effects of their conduct.
Imagine a scenario where an employee is caught embezzling funds from their company. Instead of taking responsibility for their actions, they may blame their superiors for creating a toxic work environment that pushed them towards unethical behaviour. By displacing the responsibility onto others, they attempt to avoid facing the consequences of their actions. In many ways, however, closer investigation may show that leadership created a culture of theft and the individual was unduly influenced by this culture.
5. Diffusion of Responsibility
Similar to displacement of responsibility, diffusion of responsibility occurs when individuals believe their unethical actions are a result of collective decision-making or a group mentality, displacing personal responsibility. We weaken personal moral control, Bandura says, when factors or conditions obscure personal agency and diffuse responsibility for detrimental behaviour. Leadership can apply the diffusion of responsibility in the workplace by dividing labour, for example. Subdivided tasks seem harmless in themselves, but the collective impact is dramatic. Division of labour encourages people to shift their attention from the meaning of what they are doing to the details of their specific job.
For example, in a corrupt organisation, employees may engage in fraudulent practices, such as bribery, believing that everyone else is doing it too. This diffusion of responsibility allows individuals to justify their actions by attributing them to the collective decision-making within the organisation, rather than taking personal accountability.
6. Distortion of Consequences
People perpetrate inhumane acts more quickly when they minimise, ignore, or distort the consequences of their actions. They avoid confronting the harm they cause, and if minimisation fails, they discredit the evidence. As long as they deny the reality of their actions, they feel little moral guilt. When suffering remains unseen and remote—such as in electronic warfare—people find it easier to inflict harm. Technologies like drones and laser-guided weapons allow operators to kill without facing the victims or experiencing their pain.
When people directly witness the suffering they cause, they usually experience distress and moral restraint. Studies show that people resist harmful commands more strongly when seeing the victim’s pain (Milgram, 1974). Professional charity fundraisers, for example, know that people must see “the blood on the table,” so to speak, before they'll donate. Even those who accept responsibility often continue harmful actions if they remain distant from the effects (Tilker, 1970). A photograph of a napalm-burned child in Vietnam triggered public outrage because it exposed the human cost of war. To suppress such reactions, military institutions now restrict media access to battlefield images. Organisational hierarchies further dilute responsibility; superiors give orders, intermediaries pass them on, and functionaries carry them out. Those in the middle often neither decide nor witness the outcome, making it easier for them to disengage morally.
7. Dehumanisation
People disengage morally when they strip others of their human qualities. Instead of seeing all human beings as valid with feelings and dignity, they label them as animals, savages, or demons. Sound familiar? This process dulls empathy and makes it easier for them to commit cruelty. For example, soldiers and torturers often refer to their victims using derogatory terms like “worms”, “gooks” or “animals” to suppress self-censure. When perpetrators view others as subhuman or evil, they feel justified in harming them. They no longer see the victims' suffering as relevant or deserving of compassion.
Dehumanisation also escalates when people combine it with diffused responsibility. In studies, participants treated dehumanised individuals more harshly, especially when they acted in groups and avoided personal accountability. In contrast, when people humanise others and take direct responsibility for their actions, they often refuse to inflict harm. During the Holocaust, Nazi officers degraded victims deliberately before execution to make the killings more tolerable. Israeli politicians openly refer to Palestinian men, women, and children as less than animals and so create the narrative that allows for the public's acceptance of their brutality. Bandura shows that social conditions, like bureaucracy and group divisions, encourage this process, turning everyday people into agents of cruelty.
8. Attribution of Blame
It's your own fault I beat you up. If you didn't act the way you do, then you wouldn't make me do this. This is how perpetrators of domestic violence attribute blame to the victim. People avoid moral responsibility by blaming victims or external circumstances for their harmful actions. They claim that others provoked them, leaving no choice but to retaliate. By framing themselves as innocent and their behaviour as defensive, they maintain a moral self-image. They also shift blame onto situational pressures, saying that events forced their hand. This self-exoneration makes them feel justified, even righteous, while committing harmful acts.
Attributing blame often leads others to join in the condemnation of the victim. Observers may come to see the victim as responsible for their own suffering, which deepens the harm. Victims may internalise this blame and develop feelings of self-contempt. In these cases, perpetrators not only escape guilt but also feel morally superior. This mechanism sustains cruelty and makes it more socially acceptable by distorting the perception of responsibility. And so, the abuse carries on.
Factors that Influence Selective Moral Disengagement
Research has shown that various factors can contribute to selective moral disengagement. It is essential to understand these factors to develop strategies for mitigating unethical behaviour. Some key factors that influence selective moral disengagement include:
Social Norms: Prevailing social norms and culture in organisations and broader society play a significant role in shaping our moral standards and our ability to disengage morally.
Group Dynamics: When we are part of a group, group dynamics can influence our willingness to disengage morally. It occurs through peer pressure, the need to conform, or a diffusion of responsibility within the group. The unwritten rules of the group become paramount; nobody stands up and says stop.
Personal Justification: We may have personal reasons or justifications that lead us to disengage morally. These reasons could be driven by an aspect of personality such as psychopathy or narcissism and an absence of empathy, self-interest, a desire for financial gain, self-righteousness or entitlement.
Emotional Factors: Emotional states, such as anger, frustration, or fear, can also contribute to the propensity for moral disengagement. These emotions can cloud judgment and make us more susceptible to justifying unethical actions.
Lack of Consequences: When we perceive a lack of consequences or punishment for our actions, we may be more inclined to disengage morally, believing we can act with impunity. Research shows that when nobody is watching, we are more likely to act out of our own self-interest.
Criticisms of Selective Moral Disengagement
Bandura’s theory of moral disengagement offers a compelling framework, but critics have identified several limitations. Some argue that the theory focuses too heavily on cognitive mechanisms and fails to account for the roles of emotion, intuition, and moral identity in shaping behaviour. Researchers like Jonathan Haidt (2001)8 suggests that people often make moral judgments based on intuition rather than deliberate reasoning. In other words, moral judgements are automatic in many situations. Others highlight the lack of cross-cultural validation, noting that most studies rely on Western samples and overlook how cultural norms influence moral disengagement.
Researchers have struggled to distinguish clearly between mechanisms such as moral justification and advantageous comparison (Detert et al., 2008)9. Furthermore, Bandura pays little attention to how systemic structures, like institutional power or ideology, enable widespread moral disengagement. Philip Zimbardo (2007)10 argued that such structures shape moral behaviour more profoundly than individual cognition alone. Finally, critics like Celia Moore (2008)11 point out that Bandura assumes individuals possess a moral standard from which to disengage, ignoring the possibility that some of us may act with moral indifference rather than distortion.
Concluding Remarks
Bandura closes his essay on moral disengagement, suggesting that, given the many psychological devices for disengaging moral control, society cannot rely entirely on the will of individuals. However righteous our individual moral standards, we do not seem to be capable of providing safeguards against human cruelty. Civilised life, he says, in addition to humane personal codes, requires social systems that uphold compassionate behaviour and renounce cruelty.
Bandura says that dictatorial political systems disguised as democracy, those that exercise tight control over communication systems, can more easily promote moral disengagement than pluralistic egalitarian ones. Political diversity and tolerance of dissent allow challenges to suspect moral appeals. If we examine the reemergence of fascism and right-wing ideologies in some modern societies, there is perhaps little short-term hope. Healthy scepticism toward moral pretensions puts a further check on the misuse of morality for inhumane purposes. Bandura says that to function humanely, societies must establish effective social safeguards against the misuse of institutional power for exploitive and destructive purposes (ahem, United States). It should be made difficult for people to remove humanity from their conduct.
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