Survival Mode: Understanding Aggression on the Streets

Leo Mora

Oct 6

6 min read

Some people say, “Some homeless people can be aggressive.”

That may be true.

But before we judge the behavior, perhaps we should ask a more important question:

What happens to a human being when life becomes a constant struggle for survival?

We often forget that human beings are animals too. We may have built cities, houses, corporations, highways, and sophisticated technologies, but underneath all of that civilization is a biological system designed to survive.

Put a human being into the wilderness without food, shelter, security, or protection, and that civilized behavior can change very quickly.

Walk into a jungle or forest, and you will immediately discover that the inhabitants of that environment don't operate according to the social rules of a city.

Animals are constantly evaluating threats.

They protect their territory.
They protect their food.
They protect their young.
They react quickly when they feel threatened.
There is no committee meeting.
There is no lengthy discussion.
There is often no opportunity to ask questions first.

Survival comes first.

And if you are fortunate—or unfortunate enough—to encounter a large predator such as a tiger, you will quickly discover that the concept of niceness has very little relevance.

The predator isn't necessarily evil.

It isn't angry at you personally.

It isn't trying to make a political statement.

It is simply operating according to the rules of survival.

You are potentially food, a threat, or an intruder.

And your best strategy may simply be to get away as quickly as you came in.

The City Can Become a Jungle

Now imagine replacing the forest with a city.

Instead of sleeping under trees, someone sleeps under a bridge.
Instead of defending a cave, they protect a small collection of belongings.
Instead of knowing where their next meal will come from, they may have to figure it out every day.
Instead of knowing where they will sleep tonight, they may not know where they will be tomorrow.
Instead of having a safe place to retreat when something goes wrong, they may have nowhere to retreat at all.

That environment can create something very similar to what we see in the animal kingdom:

constant alertness.

When someone has spent months or years experiencing uncertainty, rejection, theft, harassment, hunger, exposure to weather, or fear, their nervous system may begin operating differently.

They may become suspicious.
They may react quickly.
They may interpret an innocent approach as a potential threat.
They may protect their belongings intensely.
They may become defensive before another person has even done anything wrong.

From the outside, we might call this aggression.

From the inside, the person may experience it as self-protection.

That doesn't mean every aggressive action is acceptable.

It doesn't mean society should ignore violence.

And it certainly doesn't mean that someone who threatens another person shouldn't be held accountable.

But understanding the source of behavior is different from excusing it.

Survival Changes the Question

When someone has a comfortable home, a refrigerator full of food, a bed, a locked door, a shower, transportation, and people they can call when something goes wrong, it is relatively easy to practice patience.

We have space to think.
We have time to process.
We can walk away.
We can close the door.
We can sleep and start again tomorrow.

But what happens when there is no door?

What happens when there is no safe place to retreat?
What happens when every possession you own can fit into a backpack?
What happens when you don't know where your next meal is coming from?
What happens when you have learned from experience that trusting the wrong person can cost you your belongings, your safety, or even your life?

The psychological equation changes.

When security disappears, vigilance takes its place.

And prolonged vigilance can make a person appear angry, suspicious, impatient, or aggressive.

But Here Is What I Have Personally Observed

Despite the common perception that homeless people are constantly aggressive, my own experience has been very different.

I have spent significant time outside, interacting with hudreds of people from many different circumstances on the street our about to be.

And what I have discovered is that aggression is not what I encounter most often when someone is asking for help.

Quite the opposite.

I have met many people who simply want to be acknowledged.

They want food.
They want water.
They want a conversation.
They want someone to treat them like a human being rather than an inconvenience.

Sometimes what looks like a complicated social problem begins with something incredibly simple:

“How are you doing?”

That question can be surprisingly powerful.

Not because it solves homelessness.

It doesn't.

But because it temporarily restores something that homelessness can take away:

human recognition.

We Shouldn't Confuse Poverty With Character

One of the biggest mistakes society can make is assuming that someone's living conditions tell us who they are.

A person without a home isn't automatically dangerous.
A person with a home isn't automatically good.
A person wearing expensive clothes isn't automatically successful.
A person sleeping on a sidewalk isn't automatically a failure.

We often confuse circumstances with character.

But circumstances can change dramatically.

A person can lose a job.
A marriage can collapse.
A business can fail.
A medical crisis can destroy savings.
A family relationship can disappear.
A series of bad decisions can compound into another series of bad decisions.
And eventually, someone who once lived a completely ordinary life can find themselves sleeping outside.

The distance between “them” and “us” may be considerably smaller than we like to believe.

The Predator Analogy Has a Lesson

There is an important lesson in the jungle.

Animals don't ask whether they are supposed to be aggressive.

Their environment determines what behavior helps them survive.

Humans are more complicated because we possess morality, language, reasoning, empathy, culture, and the ability to change our environment.

But our biology doesn't disappear.

A person who lives in a dangerous environment for a long period can develop survival mechanisms that were never necessary when life was secure.

The goal, therefore, shouldn't simply be to tell someone:

“Stop acting aggressive.”

The deeper question should be:

“What would have to change in this person's environment so that they no longer need to live in survival mode?”

That is a much harder question.

But it is also a much more useful one.

Safety and Compassion Can Exist Together

There is sometimes a false choice between compassion and safety.

We don't have to choose one.
We can protect ourselves while treating vulnerable people with dignity.
We can establish boundaries while remaining compassionate.
We can intervene when someone becomes violent while recognizing that desperation may be behind some behaviors.
We can help without putting ourselves in unnecessary danger.
And we can stop treating every person experiencing homelessness as though they are a potential predator.

Most importantly, we can remember that survival mode is not necessarily someone's permanent identity.

People can come out of survival mode.

But they generally need something to survive toward, not merely something to survive from.

A safe place.
Food.
Rest.
Medical and mental-health support when needed.
Human connection.
Employment opportunities.
Community.

A reason to believe tomorrow can be different from today.

Perhaps We Need to Change the Way We Look

The next time you see someone living on the street, perhaps don't immediately ask:

“What's wrong with that person?”

Ask instead:

“What happened to that person?”

And perhaps even more importantly:

“What would it take to help that person stop living in survival mode?”

Because if we placed ourselves in the middle of a jungle with no shelter, no food, no protection, and no idea where tomorrow's resources would come from, we might discover that our own behavior would change too, and very quickly.

Civilization gives us the luxury of being calm.
Security gives us the luxury of being patient.
A home gives us the luxury of closing the door.
And knowing that we will eat tomorrow gives us the luxury of thinking beyond today.

Perhaps the greatest measure of civilization isn't how comfortable we are when life is easy.

It is how we treat people who are living without the comforts that make civilized behavior easier.

The street may sometimes look like a jungle.

But the person standing in front of us is still a human being.

And sometimes, before we judge the behavior, we should understand the environment that produced it.

Leonardo Mora

CEO of Vision

GAWK Corporation