Construction of Other

Minds Divided and Shared.

In the beginning, there was the organism. And for the organism to survive, it needed to distinguish between what was self and what was not-self, between what could be trusted and what could not, what could be eaten and what might attempt to do the eating. This elementary act of cognitive sorting would, over the course of evolutionary history, grow into one of the most profound and complex faculties of the human mind: the construction of the Other.

In biological terms, competition is an ancient currency. It predates morality, culture, and philosophy. Nature operates with brutal efficiency when resources are scarce, and nervous systems evolved, in large part, to navigate such scarcity. Whether through the intricate stinger of a wasp, the explosive chemistry of a bombardier beetle, or the tactical cunning of a primate, organisms became adept at outperforming rivals.

Yet humans, unlike our invertebrate cousins, took a curious evolutionary detour. We began not only to compete, but to cooperate. To share, to empathise, to collaborate. We drew social maps, literal and psychological, to reduce conflict and increase survival. Territories became not only geographic, but conceptual: spaces we navigate with etiquette, expectations, and ethical codes.

And then came the Other.

The Other is not merely a stranger; it is the mirror in which the Self is shaped. Neuroscientifically, this distinction becomes operational early in development. Infants begin life in a relatively undifferentiated state, slowly learning to parse their own experiences from those of the people around them. By the time children reach the so-called “Theory of Mind” stage, typically around age four, they can assume that others possess their own thoughts, beliefs, and perspectives. The Other is born.

But the Other is not only cognitive, it is deeply emotional. It evokes curiosity, suspicion, attraction, and fear. It is central to the development of self-awareness, especially in social contexts. Consider the peculiar psychological effect of standing before a mirror, speaking in public, or reading about oneself in a biography. These experiences heighten the Self by simulating the gaze of the Other. They make us more aware of being aware. We become both the subject and the object of our thoughts.

This recursive awareness, the mind aware of itself being perceived, may sound like philosophical indulgence, but it has real consequences for behaviour. Individuals act differently when they feel watched. Moral restraint, altruistic behaviour, even political correctness can intensify in the presence, or even the imagined presence, of an Other. In short, the Other civilises us.

And yet, the Other can also divide us. Throughout history, humans have not only recognised Otherness but instrumentalised it, scapegoated, dehumanised, and vilified those deemed different. This reflects the darker side of cognitive efficiency: the brain’s proclivity for categorisation. When resources are perceived as limited, the instinct for tribalism reawakens. Empathy contracts, and the Self becomes fortified.

But all is not bleak. Neuroscience shows that empathy, too, is elastic. Exposure, reflection, and education can expand one’s conception of the Self to include those formerly regarded as Other. Emotional and other intelligences, unlike raw IQ, appear to benefit from a more balanced internal model of Self and Other, recognising both separateness and shared humanity.

Freud posited that parts of the Self are repressed and externalised, returning to us in disguised form. One might extend this metaphor to the Other: that in some cases, what we perceive in the Other is a projection of unacknowledged aspects of the Self. This would render the Other not a stranger, but an estranged facet of the mind.

In conclusion, the construction of Other is not a mere philosophical abstraction. It is a biologically grounded, evolutionarily adaptive, and psychologically vital function of the human brain. It allows us to define ourselves, predict others, and create the social scaffolding upon which civilisation rests.

And if you feel slightly watched while reading this passage, that is your brain doing precisely what it evolved to do: anticipating the presence of another mind, and adjusting yours accordingly.