Quotes About Dehumanization

But he knew well enough that any man in the right circumstances could be dehumanised by panic.

Los hombres eran endurecidos en Rabka para que no se derrumbaran tras unas pocas semanas de servicios y tenían que hacerse insensibles a la sangre, a los gritos de agonía de mujeres y niños, debiendo realizar el trabajo con el mínimo ruido y la máxima eficacia

Si un estudiante no se desmoronaba cuando tenía que matar a los suyos, no tendría escrúpulo moral para exterminar miles de Untermenschen. El estudiante que no lo resistía, era enviado al frente, donde sus superiores lo destinaban a un Himmetfahrtskommando, escuadrón suicida

Money, mechanization, algebra. The three monsters of contemporary civilization.

The existence of Slavery in its most cruel form among them, has a tendency to brutalize the humane and finer feelings of their nature. Daily witnesses of human suffering—listening to the agonizing screeches of the slave—beholding him writhing beneath the merciless lash—bitten and torn by dogs—dying without attention, and buried without shroud or coffin—it cannot otherwise be expected

In the most literal sense they are impossible to reform because they have ceased to be human, having been transformed into abstract structures of superb efficiency, independent of lasting human control survival mechanisms. This is not a devil you can wrestle with as Daniel Webster did with Old Scratch, but one that has to be starved to death by depriving it of victims.

To be objective is to treat others as you treat an object, a corpse - to behave with them like an undertaker.

secábaseles la leche de las tetas a las mujeres paridas, e así murieron en breve todas las criaturas. Y por estar los maridos apartados, que nunca vían a las mujeres, cesó entre ellos la generación; murieron ellos en las minas, de trabajos y hambre, y ellas en las estancias o granjas, de lo mesmo, e así se acabaron tantas e tales multitúdines de gentes de aquella isla; e así se pudiera haber acabado todas las del mundo.

When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases - bestial atrocities, iron heel, blood-stained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder - one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy, the appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved

Never again will you be capable of ordinary human feeling. Everything will be dead inside you. Never again will you be capable of love, or friendship, or joy of living, or laughter, or curiosity, or courage, or integrity. You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves.

We are living in dystopia, in a world that is dominated by technology and disconnect, alienation, loneliness, and dysfunction.

Resolution doesn't mean that everyone is happy, but it does mean that perhaps fewer people are being blamed for pain they have not caused, or being cast as the receptacle of other people's anxieties, so that fewer people are dehumanized by false accusation.

It's too easy to trivialize people. The Internet does it all the time.

The hardhearted person never sees people as a people, but rather as mere objects or as impersonal cogs in an ever-turning wheel. In the vast wheel of industry, he sees men as hands. In the massive wheel of big city life, he sees men as digits in a multitude. In the deadly wheel of army life, he sees men as numbers in a regiment. He depersonalizes life.

The hardhearted individual never sees people as people, but rather as mere objects or as impersonal cogs in an ever-turning wheel. In the vast wheel of industry, he sees men as hands … He depersonalizes life.

If you have any of those stupid women wanting to act as heroines by throwing themselves in front of the soldiers, take no fucking notice. Just shoot them. I'm not going to let any Brit's whore fuck up an opportunity like this.' One

For within livin structures defined by profit, by linear power, by institutional dehumanization, our feelings were not meant to survive. Kept around as unavoidable adjuncts or pleasant pastimes, our feelings were expected to kneel to thought as women were expected to kneel to men. But women have survived. As poets.

In the interests of separation, Black women have been taught to view each other as always suspect, heartless competitors for the scarce male, the all-important prize that could legitimize our existence. This dehumanizing denial of self is no less lethal than the dehumanization of racism to which it is so closely allied.

For within living structures defined by profit, by linear power, by institutional dehumanization, our feelings were not meant to survive.

For we must move against not only those forces which dehumanize us from the outside, but also against those oppressive values which we have been forced to take into ourselves.

For within living structures defined by profit, by linear power, by institutional dehumanization, our feelings were not meant to survive. Kept around as unavoidable adjuncts or pleasant pastimes, feelings were expected to kneel to thought as women were expected to kneel to men.

Incredulity and indifference were her only reaction: incredulity, because she could not conceive of what would bring human beings to such a state —indifference, because she could not regard those who reached it, as human any longer.

Si un banco o una compañía financiera eran dueños de las tierras, el enviado decía: el Banco, o la Compañía, necesita, quiere, insiste, debe recibir, como si el banco o la compañía fuera un monstruo con capacidad para pensar y sentir, que les hubiera atrapado. Ellos no asumían la responsabilidad por los bancos o las compañías porque eran hombres y esclavos, mientras que los bancos eran máquinas y amos, todo al mismo tiempo.

The slave ship at sea reduced African captives to an existence so physically atomized as to silence all but the most elemental bodily articulation, so socially impoverished as to threaten annihilation of the self, the complete disintegration of personhood. Here their commodification built toward a crescendo that threatened never to arrive, but to leave the African captives suspended in an agony whose language no one knew.