The article, “Human on Human Predation” at the bonesofculture blog raises deep and disturbing truths that Interpersonal Neurobiology (IPNB) can help illuminate. From an IPNB lens, predation is more than a behavioral problem or moral failure; it’s a reflection of a dysregulated, disconnected nervous system that has lost the capacity for empathy, attunement, and integration. When someone harms another intentionally, especially repeatedly and without remorse, it signals profound internal fragmentation and a collapse of relational capacities. This is not excusing the behavior; it’s exposing the depth of the disconnection required to treat another human as prey.
IPNB emphasizes the fundamental need for connection, safety, and attuned presence in early life to build a brain and body capable of feeling with others, sensing boundaries, and responding to distress without causing more harm. When those needs go unmet, or worse, when the developing system is met with cruelty, the result can be a person who learns to overpower, manipulate, or violate others as a strategy to manage their internal chaos, shame, or emptiness.
Human predators often appear confident and controlled, but underneath is often a desperate attempt to assert dominance to avoid vulnerability. The more relational trauma one has endured without repair, the more likely they are to become numb to the suffering of others. That numbness can become predation if it combines with entitlement, opportunity, and reinforcement.
IPNB helps us understand that healing our culture requires not just identifying and stopping predators but transforming the environments that breed them. Systems that reward power without empathy, suppress emotion, isolate the vulnerable, and punish sensitivity feed predation. If we want to end human-on-human harm, we must build cultures that prioritize regulation, integration, and relational safety at every level, from early caregiving to the design of our institutions.
Transforming the environments that breed predators is profoundly challenging because it requires confronting the structures that benefit from their existence. Systems of dominance–whether in medicine, the military, education, or government–rely on hierarchy, control, and suppression of vulnerability. These systems not only fail to recognize relational harm, but they are often built to encourage and conceal it. Efforts to create safety, empathy, and accountability are seen as threats to power rather than foundations of health. The cultural shift needed demands more than policy change; it calls for a collective reorganization of how we understand strength, connection, and responsibility. This is slow, uncomfortable work that threatens entrenched interests, but it is the only path forward if we are to stop the cycle of human-on-human harm.
