Hegel Knew: We Judge the Climb, Not the Summit
Political psychology has spent close to two decades chasing a finding that keeps half-disappearing. Ask people how easily they’re disgusted — by spoiled food, by a stranger’s cough, by whatever taboo you put in front of them — and their answer reliably predicts how conservative they say they are. Wire them up to a skin-conductance sensor and show them the same disgusting images, and the physiological reaction stops predicting much of anything. Same trait, two ways of measuring it, two different answers. That’s the contradiction The embodied roots of ideology: Interoceptive sensibility moderates the link between disgust sensitivity and political orientation set out to untangle, and the answer it landed on wasn’t a better disgust measure. It was a completely different variable nobody had been testing: how aware people are of their own bodies in the first place.
Mariana von Mohr, now a lecturer in social and affective neuroscience at the University of Kent, and Manos Tsakiris, who directs the Centre for the Politics of Feelings at Royal Holloway, surveyed 632 US adults — 321 who identified as Democrats, 311 as Republicans — on disgust sensitivity, political orientation, and something most political psychology studies never ask about: interoceptive sensibility, or how consciously a person registers their own heartbeat, breathing, and gut. William James would have known exactly where to look. His 1884 theory of emotion argued that a feeling isn’t a judgment layered on top of a bodily reaction — it is the perceived bodily reaction, full stop. This study is the first good evidence that when that perception doesn’t happen, the reaction doesn’t just go unfelt. It goes straight into belief instead.
| Question | What we found |
|---|---|
| What was studied? | Whether interoceptive sensibility (conscious awareness of bodily signals) explains why disgust sensitivity predicts political orientation in some studies and not others |
| Who ran it? | Mariana von Mohr (University of Kent) and Manos Tsakiris (Centre for the Politics of Feelings, Royal Holloway) |
| Where and when? | Politics and the Life Sciences (Cambridge University Press), published Aug 6, 2026; covered by PsyPost on Sep 25, 2026 |
| Sample | 632 US adults, average age around 45, 321 Democrats and 311 Republicans |
| Core finding | Disgust sensitivity predicted conservative identification most strongly among people with low interoceptive sensibility; the link weakened among people with high interoceptive sensibility |
| The number | A person with high disgust sensitivity and low bodily awareness had a 64.1% probability of identifying as Republican |
| Where it was sharpest | The effect concentrated in moral disgust — reactions to lying, cheating, betrayal — more than pathogen or sexual disgust |
| What James already argued | What Is an Emotion? (1884): a feeling is not a separate mental judgment about a bodily state. It is the perceived bodily state |
The Quick Version
A 2026 study of 632 US adults found that disgust sensitivity strongly predicts conservative political identification — but only in people who aren’t very tuned in to their own bodily signals. Someone with high disgust sensitivity and low awareness of their heartbeat, breathing, and gut had roughly a 64% chance of identifying as Republican. Among people equally disgust-sensitive but more bodily self-aware, that link faded. William James argued in 1884 that emotion just is the perceived state of the body — no perception, on his account, no fully formed feeling. This study suggests something James didn’t have the tools to see: when the perception doesn’t happen, the raw reaction doesn’t vanish. It goes to work on belief instead, unexamined.
For about fifteen years, the disgust-conservatism link has been one of political psychology’s more reliable survey findings and one of its less reliable lab findings. Self-report disgust sensitivity scales — how strongly someone reacts to the idea of touching a used tissue, eating something that touched a dead insect, watching a stranger pick their nose — correlate with conservative self-identification about as consistently as anything in the field. But when researchers tried to find the same effect using physiological measures of disgust — skin conductance, facial EMG, startle response to actual disgusting images — the correlation kept failing to show up, or showed up too small and inconsistent to trust. That gap sat there for years without a good explanation. It looked like the whole disgust-ideology story might be an artifact of how people describe themselves rather than anything happening in the body at all.
Von Mohr and Tsakiris didn’t try to fix the physiological measure. They added a third variable: interoceptive sensibility, assessed with a standard questionnaire about how consciously participants track sensations like a racing heart or a knot in the stomach during an emotional moment. And the moderation showed up cleanly. Among participants low in interoceptive sensibility, higher disgust sensitivity tracked a substantially higher probability of identifying as Republican — that’s where the 64.1% figure comes from, describing someone high in disgust sensitivity and low in bodily awareness. Among participants high in interoceptive sensibility, the same disgust sensitivity score barely moved the needle on political identification at all. Same trait, same questionnaire, wildly different political weight depending on one thing: whether the person consciously notices their own body.
The domain specificity matters too. Disgust researchers usually split the trait into three buckets — pathogen disgust (contamination, illness), sexual disgust (taboo acts), and moral disgust (dishonesty, betrayal, unfairness). This study’s effect concentrated hardest in the moral disgust domain. That’s worth sitting with. It’s not that low-interoception people are generally more squeamish and that squeamishness reads as conservative. It’s that their reaction to moral violation, specifically, is what’s doing the political work when the body isn’t consciously in the loop.
The James-Lange theory, proposed independently by William James and the Danish physiologist Carl Lange in 1884, holds that emotion follows the body rather than causing it. We don’t cry because we’re sad and then feel sadness; we perceive ourselves crying, trembling, or recoiling, and that perception constitutes the emotion. Feeling is the mind noticing what the body already did.
James’s own line, from the 1884 essay, is the one people still quote: we don’t run from the bear because we’re afraid, we’re afraid because we notice ourselves running. Strip out the counterintuitive framing and the claim is actually narrow and testable — feeling requires perceiving. Which raises an obvious question this study wasn’t designed to ask but ends up answering anyway: what happens to the bodily reaction when the perceiving step doesn’t happen?
Here’s where this study quietly complicates the theory it rhymes with, and I think that’s more interesting than a clean confirmation would have been.
James’s whole account depends on the bodily change getting perceived. No perception, on his framework, no fully realized feeling — the raw physiological event stays just that, an event, not yet an emotion in his sense of the word. You’d expect, following that logic, that people with low interoceptive sensibility would have a weaker relationship between their bodily disgust responses and anything downstream, politics included, because the step where the body becomes a feeling never quite completes.
That’s not what happened. The link was strongest in exactly the people James’s theory says shouldn’t be fully feeling the thing. Which suggests the bodily signal doesn’t need to clear the bar of conscious perception to influence behavior — it just needs to clear a lower bar, more like “operative” than “felt.” Later emotion researchers, working after James, argued that once a bodily state does get consciously noticed, the mind still has a labeling job to do — deciding what the racing heart means before it counts as a specific emotion like fear or anger. Reading that idea alongside James, together they suggest interoceptive awareness isn’t just a switch that turns feeling on. It’s the thing that creates the interpretive step at all. Without it, on this study’s evidence, the raw signal doesn’t wait around for an interpretation. It goes straight to belief.
That reframes “unfelt disgust still votes” as something narrower and stranger than “disgusted people are conservative.” It’s closer to: an unattended bodily state can shape a stated identity without ever becoming, in James’s specific sense, a feeling at all.
The connection here isn’t “a nineteenth-century psychologist predicted a 2026 survey.” It’s narrower than that, and it holds up better for being narrower: James’s claim was that the body comes first and the mind’s job is to notice it. This study found a population where the noticing mostly doesn’t happen — and instead of the political effect disappearing along with the feeling, it got stronger. James described the mechanism by which bodily states become emotions. This study is evidence about what a bodily state does when that mechanism stalls out.
It lines up with what James himself argued about habit and attention — that the capacity to voluntarily notice and redirect what’s happening in you is “the very root of judgment, character, and will.” Interoceptive sensibility is a version of exactly that capacity, aimed inward at the body instead of outward at a wandering mind. James thought the ability to notice was foundational to having a self that reasons rather than just reacts. This study is a data point for what happens politically when that noticing capacity is running low.
It also connects to Musonius Rufus’s argument that the soul trains through the body, and to what a mediation study on exercise and rumination found about the same claim. The Stoics never separated bodily state from mental state the way later philosophy sometimes did — for them the body wasn’t a vehicle the mind rode around in, it was part of the same continuous system. Von Mohr and Tsakiris’s finding fits that picture uncomfortably well: the body’s disgust reaction and the mind’s political identity aren’t two separate things with a bridge between them. For low-interoception people, they look closer to one continuous event.
There’s also a genuine tension worth naming with Merleau-Ponty’s argument that perception is always an interpretive guess, never a raw transcript. Merleau-Ponty thought all perception, including perception of your own body, involves the perceiver actively constructing meaning rather than just receiving data. If he’s right, then high interoceptive sensibility isn’t passively “noticing more” — it’s actively interpreting more, building a story around the sensation instead of leaving it to operate unexamined. That’s consistent with what this study found: awareness didn’t just report the disgust reaction, it seemed to change what the reaction was allowed to do politically.
And it sits in useful tension with Sartre’s argument that there’s no hidden, automatic self dictating behavior from underneath consciousness. Sartre’s claim, and the IAT study that rhymed with it, was that even seemingly automatic responses run through more conscious choice than people assume. This finding pulls the other way, at least for one specific case: a bodily signal shaping a stated political identity without passing through anything that looks like deliberate choice at all. Both can be true in different domains. But it’s worth being honest that this study is closer to evidence for the thing Sartre was arguing against than for his own position.
It’s worth being precise about the size of this, because the framing invites overreach.
This is a correlational survey, not an experiment. Nobody manipulated anyone’s interoceptive sensibility and watched their politics shift in response. The 64.1% figure is a model-based probability at a specific combination of high disgust sensitivity and low interoceptive sensibility — it describes a pattern in the data, not a prediction about any individual person you’d meet. And 632 US adults, however evenly split by party, is one national sample recruited through an online survey platform. It doesn’t establish that this moderation holds the same way in other countries, other political systems, or other disgust domains beyond the moral one where the effect concentrated.
It also doesn’t mean disgust is the only, or even the primary, driver of political identity. Plenty of other factors — economic circumstance, religious upbringing, regional culture, parental politics — do more explanatory work across the field than disgust sensitivity does on its own. This study narrows one specific contradiction in that literature. It doesn’t replace the rest of it.
And it isn’t a case for treating conservatism, or any political identity, as something to be explained away as an unexamined gut reaction. Plenty of conservative political reasoning is exactly as deliberate and examined as any other kind. What this study found was a moderator — a condition under which the disgust-conservatism link gets stronger or weaker. It didn’t find that political belief in general reduces to bodily sensation.
James never ran a survey and never heard the word “interoceptive.” He built his theory from introspection, a handful of case studies, and an argument he thought was strong enough to stand on its own. What von Mohr and Tsakiris found is a specific, modern instance of the gap his theory left open: what happens when the body reacts and nobody’s home to notice. James thought the noticing was the whole event. This study suggests that even without it, the body still gets a vote.
This post discusses a 2026 correlational survey published in Politics and the Life Sciences and an 1884 theory of emotion. The study’s findings describe a statistical moderation pattern in 632 US adults recruited through an online platform — they aren’t a causal claim about any individual’s politics, and they don’t reduce political belief in general to bodily sensation.