From the moment we are born, we are shaped by the world around us, taught to communicate, behave, and think in ways that allow us to function in a larger community. Over time, conformity becomes second nature and we rarely stop to question it. Conformity, which is the process of adjusting one’s beliefs and behavior to align with the socially accepted expectations, is so deeply connected to human social life that it is often overlooked. It can seem less like a choice and more like a condition to belong. Society depends on a certain degree of shared understanding, without which, humans would not be able to cooperate and communities would break down. From this view, conformity could appear as a necessary feature of human life, not as a weakness. But this perspective only tells a part of the story. Literature is filled with moments when conformity transforms from a stabilizing force into a moral threat, revealing how pressure can overrun an individual’s capacity for moral thought. When people suppress their own beliefs in favour of meeting the expectations of the group or an authority figure, the consequences can range from just a small personal loss to a much larger moral failure. Conformity can, therefore, have two very different implications depending on the context. While society generally relies on conformity to maintain order and security, literature often focuses on what the costs of conformity are on the individual. What literature seems most interested in, is not which side is correct, but what happens to individuals caught between the two. This inquiry will explore to what extent literature explores conformity as a social necessity rather than a moral danger.
As the first step to answering my inquiry, I watched the 1962 documentary on the Milgram experiment, exploring one of the most interesting displays of human conformity. The experiment was held at Yale, where regular citizens were drafted into a situation where an authority figure, a scientist in a white lab coat, told them to administer what they thought were increasingly painful electric shocks to learners if they got a question incorrect. The majority of participants continued despite the many telltale signs of the individual suffering. What made me feel uncomfortable is not that they lacked conscience, but that they had one and continued anyways. The documentary states “one puzzling sign of tension was the regular occurrence of nervous laughing fits,” with fourteen of forty subjects showing “definite signs of nervous laughter and smiling.” These were not individuals who did not care about what they were doing; they were individuals who were uncomfortable, yet still kept going. At one point, a participant asked, “who’s going to take responsibility if anything happens to that gentleman?” which reveals how the individual still understood the moral weight of the situation on him. He knew something was wrong. He simply chose authority over conscience. The experimenter responds, “the responsibility is mine,” which offers a moral exit to the situation. It reveals that individuals are more likely to conform to authority when they will not be held accountable. This transfer of accountability becomes the process in which conformity overrides conscience. It is not that people stop caring, but that they have the permission to stop feeling responsible. This is where I believe the documentary becomes the most difficult to simply claim as a case of blind obedience. As Milgram noted, “the individual upon entering the laboratory becomes integrated into a situation that carries its own momentum,” which suggests that conformity does not always boldly announce itself. It gradually creeps up. It stays hidden in plain sight until the act begins to feel not just difficult but also illogical. By the end of the experiment, Milgram stated that “a substantial proportion of people do what they are told to do irrespective of the content of the act and without limitations of conscience, so long as they perceive that the command comes from a legitimate authority.” As I watched regular individuals cross the line, I realized that I was less concerned with whether they were actually good or bad, and more concerned by how little external force it seemed to take to cross that line. Even with all the layers of the experiment, it gave me one conclusion that is difficult to avoid; when individuals are faced with what they believe to be a legitimate authority, conformity will often outweigh the individual’s moral compass. The documentary suggests that conformity is less of a social necessity and more of a moral danger.
As my second step to answering my inquiry, I read Shirley Jackson’s short story “The Lottery.” The story covers a small village that gathers each year for an annual tradition called the lottery, which most of the village seems to associate with a successful harvest. At first, the event is presented almost as a casual community event. What initially shocked me was that nothing in the villagers’ behaviour suggested any moral hesitation. No one appeared to be openly resistant and no one really questions why the ritual must continue. At the end, it is revealed that the person selected is stoned to death by the rest of the town. What surprised me the most was not just the violence itself, but how everyone treated it as just ordinary. Even Tessie Hutchinson, who later wins the lottery, arrives late joking with the townsfolk and participants without any objections until her own family is chosen. This made me question whether conformity becomes dangerous when people accept unjust actions as long as it does not affect them personally. As I continued reading, another detail stood out to me. Mr. Adams mentions that “some places have already quit lotteries.” This raised some new questions for me. If the lottery was necessary, why would other villages stop doing it? Why has this village refused to change when others already have? This tradition seems to suggest that it survives not because it is useful, but because it is familiar. Old Man Warner ignores those other villages as a “pack of crazy fools” and insists that abandoning the lottery would bring “nothing but trouble.” As he says, “Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon,” it links the tradition to a good harvest. This was similar to the Milgram Experiment, in which the villagers believe that they have a legitimate reason to continue harming another person every year. However, what interested me the most was Tessie Hutchison’s reaction. When Bill, her husband, draws the marked slip, Tessie suddenly shouts, “You didn’t give him time enough to take any paper he wanted. I saw you. It wasn’t fair!” Her complaint wasn’t that the lottery itself was immoral, but that the process was unfair once her household was in danger. Even at the end, when she cries, “It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,” the objection only comes after she becomes the victim. This led me to the conclusion that conformity is not sustained only on blind obedience, but by selective morals. Many people are willing to tolerate injustice until they are the ones that suffer from it. “The Lottery” presents conformity less as a social necessity and more as a moral danger.
It is easy to view the conformity of the Milgram experiment and “The Lottery” as far-fetched, extreme events that will rarely ever occur. However, the same mechanisms that drive people to ignore their conscience exist in everyday life. I can connect this idea of conformity to a much smaller situation during high school, but one that still showed me how dangerous conformity can be. Last year, a student in my Computer Engineering class gave a presentation and was very clearly nervous. He kept losing his line, his voice was shaky, and a few people in the back started to giggle to themselves whenever he made a mistake. At first, it seemed harmless because no one was openly saying anything to his face, but after class the jokes continued. Someone was imitating the way he spoke, and then other people laughed at it and made some other comments. I remember listening and feeling uncomfortable because I knew he didn’t do anything wrong. Still, I did not say anything. I didn’t want to seem overly serious or become the next victim. What made this situation different was that no teacher or authority figure told us to act like that, no tradition forced that to happen. Instead, it was caused by peer pressure and the desire to maintain my place within the group. Once a few students started talking about him, staying quiet or joining them became socially easier than speaking up. I knew that disagreeing could make me seem overly serious or turn their attention to me, so I chose to accept it rather than to resist it. In that moment, conformity felt like a social necessity, because refusing to accept it risked isolation from the group. Even though that pressure did not justify harm, it showed me why people often conform in everyday life. This experience gave me another view of conformity as a moral danger. It may not always lead to violence like in “The Lottery” or the Milgram experiment, but it can still pressure ordinary people into ignoring their conscience and helping harm others because they want to belong. Sometimes conformity does not need authority or tradition to succeed, only peer pressure and the fear of standing out from the group.
Overall, my inquiry has led me to the conclusion that literature explores conformity more as a moral danger than as a social necessity. Although conformity can help society function by creating order, rules, and stability, the pieces of writing and observations I analyzed focus more on what is lost when people leave their judgement to a group, tradition, or an authority figure. In the Milgram experiment, participants continued harming someone because responsibility was shifted onto a legitimate authority figure. In “The Lottery,” the villagers accepted death because tradition made it feel normal, and most only cared about fairness when they themselves were threatened. My own experience, while much less extreme, reveals the same pattern that people often know something is wrong, yet still conform because it feels safer than opposing it. It also helped me to understand why conformity can feel socially necessary, since resisting a group can risk exclusion and isolation. Together, these examples suggest that conformity becomes dangerous the moment belonging matters more than conscience. What I learned from this inquiry is that conformity cannot be judged clearly as only necessary or only dangerous. It is necessary because people need to belong to groups and live within shared expectations, but it becomes dangerous when those expectations make people ignore what they know is wrong. This made me realize that the real issue is not conformity itself, but the point where belonging becomes more important than conscience.