The Psychology of Jewish Fear After October 7
How real threats can distort the way we see danger (Part I)
For many Jews today, antisemitism feels like a massive wave heading directly toward them.
We see demonstrations where antizionist slogans slip easily into attacks on Jews. We witness a torrent of online hostility that seems to arrive from every direction at once. Reports of antisemitic incidents continue to rise across much of the world. Under such conditions, it would be strange not to be alarmed.
But there is an uncomfortable question we must ask ourselves: what if some of the ways we perceive this danger are making it harder to respond effectively?
This is not an argument that antisemitism is exaggerated. Quite the opposite. Antisemitism is real, serious, and deserving of sustained attention. The question is whether human beings, when confronted with genuine threats, sometimes misjudge their nature and react poorly. The answer, according to decades of research in psychology, neuroscience, and international relations, is yes.
The challenge is that threat perception evolved to keep us alive, not necessarily to help us think strategically.
One of the most fascinating findings in neuroscience concerns what researchers call “looming” threats. Human beings are exceptionally sensitive to objects that appear to be rapidly expanding in our visual field. Our brains are evolved to detect things that seem to be moving directly toward us. Long before conscious reasoning kicks in, neural systems begin preparing us to react.
This is useful if the approaching object is a predator a falling rock – the problem is that looming threats often feel closer and larger than they actually are.
The perception of danger is therefore not always an accurate guide to the nature of a threat. Something can feel overwhelming while still being manageable. Something can appear immediate while still unfolding slowly. Fear has a tendency to compress time and magnify scale.
For many Jews, contemporary antisemitism has acquired this looming quality.
Many Jews are understandably asking where they and their families will be safest in the years ahead. Such decisions are deeply personal and deserve respect. Yet from a communal perspective, it is worth remembering that resilience often depends on distribution rather than concentration.
Historically, Jewish survival has frequently depended upon maintaining strong communities across multiple societies rather than relying exclusively on any single centre of gravity. Diversity of location, relationships, and institutions can itself be a form of security.
The danger we perceive from contemporary antisemitism leads us astray in other important ways.
Antisemitism today feels like a single, massive force moving inexorably forward. Yet this perception may obscure an important reality: antisemitism is not one thing.
The antisemitism of far-right conspiracy movements differs from the antisemitism found among some revolutionary left-wing groups. Both differ from the antisemitism embedded within Islamist ideologies. These movements occasionally overlap, but they possess different histories, motivations, constituencies, and vulnerabilities.
Treating them as a single threat risks producing ineffective strategies.
The temptation to see one coordinated adversary is understandable. Human beings naturally search for coherence. When confronted with many hostile events, we instinctively connect them into a single story. We imagine a central actor, a master plan, or an overarching design.
Political leaders have repeatedly fallen into this trap. Governments frequently interpret rival states as unified, calculating entities when, in reality, they are fragmented bureaucracies full of internal disputes, contradictions, and mistakes.
Jewish communities can make a similar error when discussing contemporary hostility. We begin talking about “the media,” “academia,” or “the West” as though each represents a single mind pursuing a single objective. Complex institutions become simplified into monolithic actors.
The danger is that simplification creates strategic blindness: if we assume an institution is uniformly hostile, we stop looking for allies within it. If we assume a policy reflects an unstoppable ideological project, we stop paying attention to internal disagreements that could be used for good. If we assume every setback is part of a grand design, we miss opportunities for persuasion, coalition-building, and reform.
There are other patterns of misperception which can lead us astray.
Threat perception also narrows our field of vision.
Researchers studying organizations under pressure have documented what is often called the “threat-rigidity” effect. When groups feel endangered, they tend to focus intensely on the immediate threat while losing sight of the broader environment.
This reaction is entirely understandable but it carries risks.
Contemporary antisemitism is emerging within a wider context of social and political instability. Across much of the world, trust in institutions is declining. Political polarization is intensifying. Economic insecurity remains widespread. International conflict is increasing. Conspiracy theories are flourishing.
Antisemitism is both a product of these dynamics and a contributor to them.
If we view antisemitism solely through a Jewish lens, we may miss opportunities to work with others confronting related problems. Institutional decay, democratic erosion, and political extremism harm many communities, not just our own. Effective responses may therefore require broader coalitions than we sometimes imagine.
None of this means that antisemitism is less dangerous than it appears. It means that understanding danger accurately is itself a strategic necessity.
Antisemitism remains a serious threat. But threats are rarely confronted successfully when they are imagined as larger, more unified, and isolated than they really are. To protect ourselves effectively, we must resist the temptation to view every challenge through the lens of a single, looming catastrophe.
The first task of coherent strategy is seeing the world as it is. And that requires not only courage in confronting the dangers lurking out there, but discipline in understanding them.
(Part II to follow).
