The world is experiencing a hazy "age of crises," dominated by uncertainty, doubt, and undefinedness. Our familiar values, norms, and institutions have been shattered. While regional conflicts may appear as a reflection of competition between major actors, their effects represent a period of global warfare. Economic fluctuations, competition over energy reserves and logistics routes, the pursuit of dominance over rare earth minerals, and the race in technology have accelerated at an invisible pace. We are in a period of change and transformation so fluid that we may not be able to keep up with writing its history.

How long this period of destruction will last and what will be built in its place is not yet clear, but trying to explain the changes in each sector and at each level independently would be a serious mistake. History is no longer our only laboratory in the field of international relations. World politics can no longer be understood solely through power capacities, geopolitical competition, or the struggle for hegemony between states. We must now bring to the table everything we know in the name of science, knowledge, and art, ranging from sociology to technology, geography to mathematics, philosophy to psychology. The world is changing with a speed, depth, and diversity that makes it impossible to understand in a one-dimensional way. Moreover, a revolutionary transformation is underway at a deeper, more invisible level: the human mind. Our perception of the world, our sensitivity to environmental factors, our vulnerability are now different. We are transforming, and we will transform even more radically.

The field of international relations has been trying for some time to broaden its explanatory capacity with these kinds of different approaches; indeed, there is no other way. Because the international relations theories we know, neither individually nor collectively, achieve sufficient depth. This is precisely why we call international relations an interdisciplinary field; just like political psychology. When analyzing political events, our questions are generally: Why does a leader become a leader, why is he elected; what might be the psychological motivation of the community that elects him? How does a mass of millions of people sometimes manage to align themselves behind a psychopath? How does one become Hitler; how does one support Hitler? What kind of political reaction does a society give when faced with fear, how does it behave when filled with anxiety? Why does a society agree to a war that is not its own, or why can it oppose its own war? Why does a regime pursue irrational interests? How can horrific war crimes like genocide and massacres be committed by ordinary people? Is there a way out of mass trauma; what kind of consequences does it have? And so on. The answer to these kinds of questions certainly cannot be explained solely by geopolitics and the struggle for hegemony. Psychological factors have political consequences, and these must also be taken into account when analyzing.

Societies, like living organisms, are embedded within a time and space. They don't just live in the present; they carry the burden of the past as well as the hope of the future. Sometimes, a trauma experienced centuries ago is still decisive in today's politics and the construction of the future. Therefore, some conflicts seem insurmountable; no matter what concessions are made at the diplomatic table, no matter how much peace contributes to both sides, a true reconciliation cannot be achieved. Because what remains unresolved is not actually political, but psychological. Therefore, the perspective of political psychology functions not only as an analytical tool but also as an early warning system. Crises often erupt not when material conditions are ripe, but when perceptions become radicalized.