Familiarity Breeds Contempt

The phrase “familiarity breeds contempt” goes all the way back to Aesop’s fables. In one story, a fox grows so accustomed to a lion’s presence that fear turns into disdain. What was once majestic becomes ordinary.

The saying has lasted because it rings true.

We see it in relationships, in friendships, even in our own daily lives. At first, there is freshness — attention, curiosity, gratitude. Over time, routine sets in. What once felt rare becomes assumed. The mind begins to notice flaws more than gifts.

Why does this happen?

Maybe because the mind craves novelty. It tends to dull itself when things are known. And when dullness comes, judgment is not far behind.

The harder question is: how do we recognize it?

One sign is irritation where there used to be appreciation. Another is taking someone’s presence for granted. Or forgetting how unlikely it is that this person, or this circumstance, even came into our life at all.

Mindfulness here is not complicated. It is remembering. To see again what has become invisible. To pause and recall the value that routine hides. A simple thank you, spoken or unspoken, can dissolve a lot of contempt before it takes root.

Ramana Maharshi’s teaching points in the same direction, though more radically. He often reminded seekers that what we call “the other” is not truly separate from the Self. If contempt arises, it’s not because of the other’s flaws — it’s because the mind has turned outward and forgotten its source. Turning inward shifts the perspective: instead of “they annoy me,” it becomes “who is the ‘me’ that feels annoyed?”

Seen that way, “familiarity breeds contempt” is not a law but a tendency of the outward-turned mind. With attention and inquiry, familiarity can breed something else: deeper love, steadiness, even silence.