A college professor, my father used to assign his students the book The Lord of the Flies. That 1954 novel by William Golding imagines the plight of a group of British schoolboys whose plane crashes on a deserted island. As the story unfolds, readers find themselves confronting the question: Are people basically civilized and respectful? Or are they guided by darker, power-seeking impulses?

Those unacquainted with the book should know that the group quickly divides into two camps. The first is led by Ralph, who has been elected by all the boys to manage their affairs, summon them to meetings, and ensure that they maintain a signal fire to encourage their rescue. The second leader is Jack, an adventurous fellow who heads up hunting parties and disregards Ralph’s requests to maintain the signal.

Over the course of the novel, many of the boys become fearful there is a dark beast on the island that threatens them and from which only Jack offers protection. A grotesque pig’s head—the lord of the flies—is placed on a post as a kind of sacred totem. The civilized boys lose their standing and are hunted down.

I recall Golding’s work here because his central concern—whether society should organize itself around people’s brighter hopes for their collective welfare or around their worst fears—is especially pertinent in this political season. Similarly important is his worry that circumstances might “tip” ordinary, law-abiding citizens into becoming quite different versions of themselves. All of us are familiar enough with positive emotions like love, kindness, and hope, just as we are with negative ones like anger, hatred, and fear. But which set is the stronger motivator of human behavior?

I’ve written previously in this blog of what I call the “circle of compassion,” that is, the extent to which we exhibit........

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