Why I Wrote This Book
Growing up in apartheid-era South Africa shaped my understanding of political conflict. It seemed simple then: there were those who had rights, and those who had few or none. The moral choices were stark, and the need for change was obvious.
When I moved to the UK nearly thirty years ago, I found something very different. In free democracies, the moral lines were blurred. Both sides of politics seemed to have valid points, and although elections were fiercely contested, they were largely civil.
Over the past two decades, that civility has eroded. The way people talk about politics has grown sharper, angrier, and more moralistic. The same divide is visible not only in Britain but across the United States, Canada, Australia, and much of Europe. Each side now claims the moral high ground—and with it, the exclusive right to govern. Politics has become a battle of 'good' versus 'evil', rather than a contest of ideas.
​Like many people, I’ve faced personal upheaval too. After thirteen years of marriage, I found myself questioning how people can hold such unshakeable beliefs about right and wrong—beliefs that no amount of reason or evidence can change.
It challenged my assumptions. I had always believed that if a group of thoughtful people looked at the same facts for long enough, they would reach the same conclusion. I now know that isn’t true.
​
​
I couldn’t have been more wrong in my assumptions. I needed an explanation. So I began a ten-year journey, reading hundreds of books on psychology, politics, economics, and genetics in search of a unifying thread—some principle that could make sense of what felt like an increasingly chaotic and incoherent world.
The breakthrough came with Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind (2012). Suddenly, the thousands of pages of notes I’d compiled over the years began to align around his theory of moral values—particularly the idea that liberals and conservatives share the same moral foundations, but rank their importance very differently.
With that framework in place, everything I’d gathered—from behavioural genetics and motivational psychology to politics, economics, and social wellbeing—started to fit together. More importantly, the patterns I saw offered real explanatory power for what was unfolding daily in the news.
By early 2016, I was certain that both Brexit and Donald Trump’s election were inevitable outcomes of deep moral and psychological divides. I also knew the unhappiness and turmoil they would unleash. That’s when I realised I had to write this book. It has taken years of work and is one of the most challenging projects I have ever undertaken.
My hope is that The Moral Stress of Nations brings comfort to readers on both the left and the right—helping each side understand why they think differently, and why both moral tribes are essential if humanity is to face its greatest challenges together.