It may be a mistake, that man, in a state of nature, is more

Mercy Otis Warren, the poet and historian of the American Revolution, once wrote with striking clarity: “It may be a mistake, that man, in a state of nature, is more disposed to cruelty than courtesy.” In this brief reflection she questions one of the darker assumptions of political philosophy—that without laws, kings, or social order, man would descend into savagery. Her words challenge the claim that our truest nature is brutal, insisting instead that courtesy, kindness, and the impulse to peace may be just as native to the human heart as cruelty.

The origin of this thought rests in the intellectual debates of Warren’s time. The Enlightenment philosophers wrestled with the question of man’s state before government. Thomas Hobbes declared that life in nature was “nasty, brutish, and short,” ruled by fear and violence. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, by contrast, believed that man in his natural state was innocent, corrupted only by civilization. Warren, steeped in these currents, looked beyond them to her own observation of human life. She wondered if perhaps it was a grave error to suppose that cruelty is our deepest root. Might not compassion and courtesy arise as readily, if not more so, when man is free from the corrupting ambitions of power?

History offers echoes of her insight. When the Pilgrims first landed at Plymouth Rock, they encountered not unrelenting hostility, but kindness from the Wampanoag people, who taught them how to plant corn and survive the harsh winters. Though history later turned to violence and betrayal, those early moments remind us that in the absence of formal treaties or governments, courtesy could and did prevail. Likewise, in times of natural disaster today, we often see not chaos and cruelty, but neighbors helping neighbors, strangers feeding strangers, as though the heart remembers that kindness is as primal as fear.

Her words are deeply emotional and heroic, for they remind us that man’s destiny is not fixed in cruelty. If we accept that violence is our truest nature, then all efforts at justice and peace are futile masks. But if courtesy is as native as cruelty, then the struggle for civilization, liberty, and mutual respect is not in vain—it is a remembering of who we truly are. Warren, as a patriot and critic of tyranny, understood this well: those who claim man is naturally savage often justify their own chains and crowns. But those who believe man capable of courtesy give birth to republics.

This quote also serves as a warning: to assume cruelty is man’s nature is to treat others with suspicion, to govern through fear, and to harden our hearts against compassion. History shows us how destructive this assumption can be. When empires treated conquered peoples as inherently savage, they excused atrocities. When rulers assumed their citizens were brutes, they justified tyranny. But Warren calls us back to humility, reminding us that in courtesy, not cruelty, lies the seed of true freedom and mutual dignity.

The lesson we take is powerful: do not assume the worst of human nature, nor resign yourself to cynicism. Believe instead that every soul is capable of kindness, and treat others as though courtesy is their truest self. This belief alone can awaken what cynicism would bury. As Warren suggests, it is a mistake to view cruelty as man’s first instinct; to assume so is to darken the world unnecessarily. But to expect courtesy is to call it forth.

Practically, this means we must live as cultivators of courtesy. In our homes, choose patience over anger. In our work, honor cooperation over rivalry. In our communities, assume goodwill rather than malice, until shown otherwise. Each of these small acts resists the belief that cruelty rules the soul. And together, they restore what Warren knew to be true: that man, even in his most natural state, carries within him the seeds of compassion, and that in nurturing them, we climb toward a nobler destiny.

Thus, Mercy Otis Warren’s words shine as a beacon across centuries: man is not doomed to cruelty, but destined for courtesy. To believe this is to stand against tyranny, despair, and violence. To live it is to make of our brief time on earth a witness to hope—that courtesy, not cruelty, is the truest nature of humankind.