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Righteous anger motivates personal crusades just as it does a march of thousands, even hundreds of thousands.

*Herein, I use rhetor, orator speaker and writer interchangeably. Likewise for the words hearer, audience, judger, and reader.

An overview of what Aristotle means by rhetoric and some of its features is helpful here. Aristotle defines rhetoric as, “[The] faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion *(Book I, Ch. II, p.6, 1355b, 25).” And, “the power of observing the means of persuasion on almost any subject presented to us…(Book I, Ch. II, p 7, 1355^b, 30).”

• *All Aristotle quotes used in the post are from the following: Aristotle, Translated by W. Rhys Roberts, Dover Publications, Inc.: New York, 2004 (Dover Thrift Editions)

Aristotle identifies three modes of persuasion: ethos, “the personal character of the speaker”; pathos, “putting the audience in a certain frame of mind”; and, logos, “the proof, or apparent proof, provided by the words of speech itself” (Book I, Ch. II, p.7, 1356^a, 5).

I’ll not concern myself with logos here, but rather I’ll toy with an interaction between ethos and pathos.

Here’s a point to keep in mind throughout this thread: Aristotle says, “We believe good men more readily than others … and [one’s] character may also be called the most effective means of persuasion he possesses (Book I, Ch. II, p.7, 1356^a, 5).”

The first part of this assertion needs to be weakened to: We tend to believe good [people] …. In certain circumstances, we might believe a person of bad character more readily than others, e.g. an informant. And a person who appears too good can be off-putting, e.g. goody-goody-two shoes, or insincere. But generally we’re more likely to believe people we deem to be of good character — as evidenced by the confidence we place in reports from our nearest and dearest. As Daniel Kahneman — roughly two millennia after Aristotle — notes,

“For some of our most important beliefs we have no evidence at all, except that people we love and trust hold these beliefs (209).” 

• Daniel Kahneman. Thinking, Fast and Slow. New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011.

One upshot here is that we’ll more readily believe a stranger if she reminds us of the people we love and trust; e.g. She has the same mannerisms as my wonderful auntie Ellen. I like her! Sometimes its hard to override this positive resemblance to entertain some skepticism about what this stranger has to say. One tactic used by scammers is to build enough of this sense of familiarity for just long enough to prevent you from kicking into override. AI technology has now driven this kind of exploitation to a new level by cloning people’s voices. It’s hard to resist pleas for help from your grandson’s voice, even when you’ve been told he’s on a camping trip with his protective uncles.

A speaker (var. orator or rhetor) might face down a room full of skeptics, all strangers to her and she to them. If she happens to remind just one of them of dear auntie Ellen, that resemblance is awash in the crowd. Yet, one vocal skeptic among her audience can shift the mood of the whole (i.e. out-persuade her). So a speaker’s not only got to connect with her audience, but also out-perform any hecklers. She’s got to, as Aristotle says, “make [her] own character look right and that [she] should entertain the right feelings toward [her] hearers, and also that [her] hearers themselves should be in just the right frame of mind (Book II, Ch.1, p. 59, 1377^b, 20-30).”

I’m currently captive to the run up to the next U.S. election because my husband is following the affair on our big screen television in our small house. Without his hearing aids. Every night of the week except Fridays. Only because I’ve insisted on getting a break from U.S. politics one night a week. As much as I’m interested in political rhetoric, I don’t like to be pummelled by it. But the campaign is generating many examples on the subject. Such as for the Aristotle quote in the previous paragraph:

Kamala Harris used African-American Vernacular English (AAVE) at an Atlanta rally (Fix 5 News, full speech) to appeal to Black supporters. While some, like Amala Ekpunobi, find Harris’ use of AAVE cringeworthy pandering, others think, “That tone change was anything but pandering — she spoke to Black supporters the way other Black people talk with each other. (Erin B Logan,San Francisco Chronicle)”

In his acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention, Trump’s VP pick and author of Hillbilly Elegy, JD Vance, said, “Our movement is about single moms like mine who struggled with money and addiction but never gave up (18:24)… it’s about grandparents all across this country who are living on social security and raising grandchildren they didn’t expect to raise…(19:51) (C-SPAN, You Tube).” An article in The 19th reports that convention-goer Tamara Stephan said, “Vance can relate to many Americans because he ‘has struggled with money. His family has struggled with money… He’s not just saying it as a talking point.’”

Anyway. It’s in a speaker’s attempt to look right to an audience where ethos (character) and pathos (emotions) intertwine and interact. To look right, a speaker’s got to motivate the audience’s perception of her, she’s got to give them reason to believe that she is someone to believe. To do so, she’s going to root around in her little black bag to find some Love Potion No. 9 and spritz them with some pathos.

As David Hume observes, “Reason is, and and ought only ever to be a slave to the passions, and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them (David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature 1739,1749, Penguin Classics: London 1969, 1985. Book II, Part III, III, p 462).”

What Hume means is that reason needs a driver; otherwise reason is inert. And pathos can be that driver. Pathos is a potent go-juice. If you don’t spit it out.

• See also, this blog: Understanding Political Rhetoric and How It Works With Our Mental States to Persuade or Dissuade

Back to that Love Potion. I’ll leave you to worry distinctions between seduction and persuasion. And coercion. These distinctions are a whole ‘nother enchilada. Too big for this post. But if the idea of seduction popped into your mind before I said it, you might wonder why your mind so quickly rolled into the gutter. One use of rhetoric is to shift your belief-lane so your aim shifts to a different object. Maybe so far as to bowl a strike in the neighbouring alley. But that shift occurs most readily when it leverages something you already believe, even a little. And high-power politicians have staff dedicated to being good guessers at what beliefs those might be.

As Aristotle says, “people love to hear stated in general terms what they already believe…The orator therefore has to guess the subjects on which his hearers really hold views already, and what those views are, and then must express, as general truths, these same views on these same subjects (Ch 21, p 97, 1395^b, 5-10).”

Recall (first paragraph) that Aristotle says rhetoric is “the power of observing the means of persuasion on almost any subject presented to us.” It’s a power, i.e. a faculty, humans make use of all the time. How else would a social animal — especially one possessing symbolic language — navigate its social environment?

If you have kids, you’ll know they are champions of persuasion. But it’s you who engenders that talent from the moment you make a little choo-choo train with the spoon. And while I’m cautious about anthropomorphising dogs (fingers crossed behind my back), I’ll venture that when Fifi LeCockapoo wiggles and wags her little body and looks over her shoulder at you as she heads to her food dish, she also has a faculty for getting others to fill a want. You know you just fed her. But her belly belies your weakness of will.

Note then that a speaker might be as honest and pure of heart as one can be, yet in using pathos in the service of persuasion she is no different than the scammer. Nor the wagger. Modes of persuasion are just modes of persuasion, and that’s it. There’s nothing inherently good or bad about them. And that’s just the way the memic Darwinian ball bounces. It’s up to you, singularly both audience and judger (hearer or reader), to be on your toes to decide whether you’ll play dodge ball, volley ball, or catch.

What is certain is that someone intent on persuading you is going to throw you a curve ball, including by not throwing you a curve ball. She’s straight to the point, you might say of her, no pretences, just laid herself bare. Love her.

Says Aristotle, “There are three things which inspire confidence in the orator’s own character — the three, namely, that induce us to believe a thing apart from any proof of it: good sense, good moral character, and good will … anyone who is thought to have all three of these good qualities will inspire trust in his audience (Book II, Ch. 1, p. 60, 1378^a, 5-15).”

It’s interesting that inspiring confidence in an orator’s character is its own bit of rhetoric, replete with logos, ethos, and pathos. Thomas Hobbes makes this very point in Leviathan,

“When a man’s discourse beginneth not at definitions, it beginneth at some other contemplation of his own, and then it is still called opinion; or it begin at some other saying of another, of whose ability to know the truth and whose honesty in not deceiving, he doubeth not; and then the discourse is not so much concerning the thing as the person; and the resolution is called BELIEF and FAITH; faith in the man, belief both of the man and of the truth of what he says. So that in belief are two opinions, one of the saying of the man, the other of his virtue.”

• Thomas Hobbes, A.P. Martinich and Brian Battiste, Eds, Leviathan, Parts I and II — Revised Edition, Broadview Press: Calgary, 2011. *All Hobbes quotes in this post are taken from this edition.

Good sense is one’s having the appearance of being capable of dispensing both truth and good advice (Book II, Ch. 1, p. 60, 1378^a, 10-15). E.g. Seems like a reasonable chap, knows what he’s talking about. Or, I don’t feel stupid for believing him.

Good moral character is ethos. And good will, pathos. The preacher at the pulpit delivers ample of each to his congregation through sermon and songs. Representatives of God tend to make fine rhetoricians. Not only clergy, but also the heroes of biblical verses. From the New Testament: The angel of the Lord came upon shepherds guarding their flocks by night, “9. … and the Glory of the Lord shone round about them…10. … behold [said the angel], I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people…. 14. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men (KJV, Luke 2, 9 -14.)

Note that the good will is toward the audience members, or those people or causes the audience members hold dear. A speaker might show good will toward her audience by demonstrating ill will toward their enemies; e.g. Winston Churchill’s “We shall fight on the beaches….”

In the following warnings, note the interesting parallels between two kinds of walls (around Trump and at the border) and two kinds of immunity/amnesty (of Trump and of illegal immigrants).

Kamala Harris, Democratic National Convention (DNC) speech: “The consequences. of putting Donald Trump back in the White House are extremely serious (WPLG 10, You Tube, DNC acceptance speech, clip). And, “Consider the power [Donald Trump] will have especially after the United States Supreme Court just ruled that he would be immune from criminal prosecution. Just imagine Donald Trump with no guard rails (Newsweek, YouTube, 0:00 to 0:22, DNC Video clip).”

Donald Trump, speaking at the border wall: “[The border guards] are courageous people. They’re fighting for the border. They’re fighting against these radical left lunatics that are destroying our country. And [Kamala Harris] is the leader of the pack. (1:26, choppy video, You Tube, LiveNOW from Fox).”

It is the combination of ethos and pathos that puts people on their knees or on their feet.

Aristotle observes that, “The Emotions are all those feelings that so change men as to effect their judgments, and that are also attended by pain or pleasure. Such are anger, pity, fear, and the like and their opposites” (Book II, Ch. 1, p. 59, 1378^a, 5-15).”

Expounding Aristotle’s observation of the role of emotion in decision making are contemporary researchers such as Paul Slovic (role of emotions in risk analysis), Gerald Clore (cognition and emotion are intertwined), and Antonio Damasio (“emotions play a central role in social cognition and decision-making”).

In another blog entry, I note, cf Aristotle, that “rhetoric leverages a lot of the things buried deep in our cognitive processes such as our emotions and the assumptions we have about who and what we should trust.”

I’m here concerned with one emotion: anger. And more particularly a common concept that tends to invoke intense anger: injustice. This kind of anger is righteous anger and it’s often expressed in an appeal to authority, the highest authority, God is on my side! (var. appeals to: the good and right; cosmic justice; Karma; comeuppance; just deserts — who serves them?).

I can’t readily come up with an example of anger that isn’t bound up with the concept of injustice. Maybe self-directed anger, e.g. I’m such a screw up. Or maybe railing at a pile of frustrations. Such as, Ten things broke down on me in one day! Argh! The former requires more explanation but is likely in the it’s unfair category, the latter might entail a “the fix is in” cosmological rant. I’ll have to keep thinking on these and other examples. But first doing a little ontology on anger wouldn’t go amiss.

Aristotle suggests that anger “may be defined as an impulse, accompanied by pain, to a conspicuous revenge for a conspicuous slight directed without justification toward what concerns oneself or toward what concerns one’s friends (Book II, Ch. 2, p. 60, 1378^a, 30).”

Let’s unpack this. The manifestation of this pain-paired impulse runs the gamut from mildly offended, to righteous indignation, to moral outrage, to bloodshed. In Leviathan, Hobbes lays out “the three principal causes of quarrel” found in the nature of man. “First competition; secondly, diffidence; thirdly, glory. (Hobbes, Part I, Ch. 13, 6. p 123).”

Aristotle’s definition of anger appears most compatible with glory. Glory, as Hobbes defines it is, “Joy arising from imagination of man’s own power and ability … (Part I, Ch. VI, 39, p 72).” Joy, in turn, he says, is a pleasure of the mind that, to paraphrase, manifests because you have or can imagine yourself having some good thing. (Part I, Ch. VI, 12, p 70). And pleasure, in turn, is “the appearance or sense of good,” says Hobbes (Part I, Ch. VI, 11, p 70). So, in my words: pleasure, joy, glory. Hey, wudja looka that! I want it! And — heh-heh-heh — I do believe I can have it!

Glory, then, is joy derived from one’s self-estimation. Hobbes makes a cut between one’s self-estimation which is “grounded upon the experience of his own former actions,” being confidence, and that which is “grounded on the flattery of others or only supposed by himself for the delight of the consequences of it,” called Vain-glory (Part I, Ch. VI, 39, p 72).

I won’t analyse the distinctions between confidence and vain-glory, except to note that they aren’t neat. The football star might be confident in his football skills. But vainglorious about his stardom. The upshot is that anything that lowers one’s self-estimation, pulls the rug out from under it, or otherwise thwarts the having of it is probably gonna hurt. As Hobbes notes, “displeasures are in some sense called PAIN…[italics mine]” (Part I, Ch. VI, 12, p 70).

Mark and mark well how vitally important it is to your credibility in a community to be viewed a good person, and how — and why — any attempt to undermine your self-estimation of goodness causes you some distress (pain). Especially if you believe that criticism unwarranted. Hence a catalyst for righteous indignation, “I’m not perfect, but I AM a good person! I AM!”

Again: Aristotle says, “We believe good men more readily than others … and [one’s] character may also be called the most effective means of persuasion he possesses (Book I, Ch. II, p.7, 1356^a, 5).”

Hence ad hominen attacks (attacks on the person rather than her argument) deployed in political rhetoric are intended to undermine the ethos, or good character, of an opponent. The person being attacked has to then repair and raise her own character above the attacker’s, often by lobbing a retaliatory ad hominen. And so on, ad infinitum.

As much as ad hominen attacks are part and parcel with the political game, they can sting. Hence the advice attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt, “Every woman in public life needs to develop skin as tough as rhinoceros hide.” Be that as it may, a politician with a thick skin might not only hope her audience is thin-skinned but also do everything she can to keep them in that state. Pathos requires some permeability of the listener to take effect, and ethos helps to soften the skin and open their pores.

I don’t want to deviate too far here, there’s so many tendrils that one can chase only to find herself in a cave in the embrace of a randy octopus. But, I’ll make a quick connection between Aristotle, Hobbes, and contemporary research. Here’s a scientific explanation for this pain:

Naomi Eisenberger et al’s “Does Rejection Hurt? An fMRI Study of Social Exclusion,” suggests “that social pain is analogous in its neurocognitive function to physical pain, alerting us when we have sustained injury to our social connections …. (Eisenberger et al, 292).”

• Eisenberger, Naomi I., Matthew D. Lieberman, and Kipling D. Williams. “Does rejection hurt? An fMRI study of social exclusion.” Science 302.5643 (2003): 290-292. https://www.wisebrain.org/papers/RejectionHurt.pdf

So is there a function for this injury? Eisenberger et al say that it “[allows] restorative measures to be taken. But these authors offer no examples of restorative measures. Kiss and make up might be one. But Hobbes suggests another. He says, “[Glory] maketh men invade for reputation… [and] use violence … for trifles, as a word, or a smile, a different opinion, and any other signs of undervalue, either direct in their persons or by reflection in their kindred, their friends, their nations, their profession, or their name (Hobbes, Part I, Ch. 13, 7. p 123).”

It appears that an “injury to our social connections” and corresponding possible “restorative measures” (Eisenberg et al, above) are among the phenomena that underpin our concepts of justice and injustice. As Hobbes says,

“Justice and injustice are none of the faculties neither of the body or mind. If they were, they might be in a man that were alone in the world, as well as his senses and passions. They are qualities that relate to men in society, not in solitude (Part 1, Ch. 13, 13., p 125).”

All right, Hobbes. So what do we know about these qualities? In Plato’s Republic, Socrates asks Cephalus, “as concerning justice, what is it? (Plato. Trans. Benjamin Jowett. The Republic. Dover Publications, Inc.: New York. 2000. Book I, p.5)”

What is justice? is still a live question. To get the gist of how live this question remains, you might just scroll through the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (SEP) entry on Justice “which aims to provide a general map of the ways in which justice has been understood by philosophers, past and present.* Miller says it is “probably more enlightening … to try to make sense of such a wide-ranging concept by identifying elements that are present whenever justice is invoked, but also examining the different forms it takes in various practical contexts.”

• *Miller, David, “Justice”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2023 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.), URL <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2023/entries/justice/&gt;.

Problems with defining the concept aside, the word ‘justice’ can alone be a powerful rhetorical device for building up a speaker’s (candidate’s) ethos. In popular discourse, ‘justice’ supplies connotations of virtue and goodness. The opponent is thereby injust, e.g. greedy (for power, money, and fame). Using your search engine, you’ll find all sorts of strong opinions on the moral and theoretical distinctions, if any, between justice and revenge (which supplies connotations of badness).

For my purposes in this post, the concept of retribution — retributive justice — is most at play. The Canadian criminal justice system is largely a retributive model, i.e. punishment is meted out supposedly proportionate to the offence, or degree of offence, committed. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy has a very good article on Retributive Justice that I recommend if you have the time.

Retributive justice might most famously be embodied in The Code of Hammurabi article “196. If a man put out the eye of another man, his eye shall be put out. [An eye for an eye] (Trans. L.W. King, The Avalon Project, Lillian Goldman Law Library, Yale Law School).” And modern models of retributive justice are often regarded in light of Immanuel Kant’s so-called just deserts theory, whereby one ought to be punished in proportion for a wrongdoing as a requirement of justice without regard for any other good that might follow from that punishment.

Note that while just deserts can also refer to a reward or award, it’s most often used to denote punishment.

I’ve only lightly sketched some legal and theoretical examples of retributive justice. But the eye for an eye — var. tit for tat, blow for blow— impulse is a deeply embedded social concept. And so this impulse is rhetorically useful “as an available means of persuasion (Aristotle, Rhetoric, Book I, Ch. II, p.6, 1355b, 25).”

I’ve been opening up some heavy theoretical baggage here. But just for a peek. My aim is just to make salient that there is heavy theoretical baggage under the plastic handle that rhetorical discourse encourages one to grab. In a sense, I’m cautioning you not to be duped into taking illicit drugs over the border. Inspect your bags like a sniffer dog and his overzealous handler.

So on a much theoretically hammered point, what is the difference between retribution and revenge? Andrew Oldenquist argues that retribution is sanitised revenge*, that “revenge becomes retributive justice when certain empirical social conditions hold (464).” But, as my husband, Paul, a social and political philosopher, points out, the converse might rather be true, i.e. retributive justice becomes revenge when certain empirical social conditions hold. Which, he asks, is the primitive? This question remains unanswered.

• Oldenquist, Andrew. “An Explanation of Retribution.” The Journal of Philosophy, vol. 85, no. 9, 1988, pp. 464–78. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2026803. Accessed 21 Aug. 2024. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2026803

For the sake of inspecting conceptual baggage, in the next paragraphs (up to Aristotle) I’ll lay down a cluster of related concepts. As you read through, note any moral attributions you prescribe to each concept. Particularly those accompanied by a strong impulse, most especially anger. Any speaker, whether resting her arms on your kitchen table or on a bedecked podium, will be taking a bead on your hot buttons.

Let’s start with restorative justice, which is often held in contrast to retributive justice. I am oversimplifying here, but the emphasis on the restorative model is the rehabilitation of the offender and emphasises his making things right with victims and the community over that of punishing the offender on the retributive model. I’m not so sure the models come apart. In fact, in some instances restorative measures might amplify punishment. Anthony Duff argues that “Restoration is not only compatible with retribution; it requires retribution.” I’ll leave you to worry the distinctions, if any. And to note any connotations and moral ascriptions you associate with these concepts.

I’ll link to the Merriam-Webster dictionary for the next set of concepts. But not without pointing out that each of these terms require an indexical (to- or for- whom or what) and context to play out in the world, and so both the connotations and moral ascriptions are neither stable over time nor between contemporary people. You might worry about authority and due process. E.g. you might find some tension between vigilantes who internet-bait and capture pedophiles versus undercover officers who internet-bait and capture pedophiles. You might also find yourself entertaining “right reasons” and proportionality in your judgments.

You might find laudable the hero who avenges his father’s murder by becoming a forensic scientist. Reprehensible, the man who defecates on his neighbour’s porch in retaliation for the years the neighbour’s dog pooped on his lawn. The homeless person who poops in your driveway might draw out conflicting intuitions, even more so if your toddler steps first in human poop and then in dog poop. Here the notion of special regard factors in.

Continuing (follow the links for more of each definition). Retribution, “means literally ‘payback’.” Look at the root, “tribute“, which means giving something “as due or deserved.” (My examples are in italics.) The knight who presents the head of her enemy pays tribute to his queen. Avenge, “1 to take vengeance for or on behalf of; 2 to exact satisfaction for (a wrong) by punishing the wrongdoer.” The knight has avenged an assault on his queen’s honour.

Vigilante, “a member of a volunteer committee organized to suppress and punish crime summarily (as when the processes of law are viewed as inadequate).” The knight caught the man who offended his queen with the aide of a group of loyal villagers. Revenge, “V. to avenge (oneself or another) usually by retaliating in kind or degree; N. 1 a desire for vengeance or retribution, 3 an opportunity for getting satisfaction.” The friends of the decapitated man come for the head of the knight. And coming full circle, Vengeance: “punishment inflicted in retaliation for an injury or offense : RETRIBUTION.”

Here are two final concepts before I make a theological leap: Scapegoat, N “2 a: one that bears the blame for others; 2 b: one that is the object of irrational hostility.” And, Authority , N “4 the right or means to command or control others.”

In Christianised cultures, theological concepts of vengeance lurk in the brains of even the most devout atheists. From Biblehub.com:

“Vengeance is Mine; I will repay. In due time their foot will slip; for their day of disaster is near, and their doom is coming quickly (Deuteronomy 32:35, KJV).”

“Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord (Romans 12:19, KJV).

“Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head (Romans 12:20, KJV).”

Is it that God is, as in a high theology (God of the Omni’s), impassible — without feeling or expressing emotion — hence, dispassionately meting out justice according to some divine scale? Or, as in a low theology is God passible, desiring His own satisfaction for punishing a wrongdoing? Does He consider it a wrongdoing, an injustice, to deprive Him of this satisfaction?

The questions I’ve just asked inflame some theists and atheists alike. And interest others, respectively. But concepts of vengeance, its derivatives and associated concepts, predate the Christian God and are found in other faith traditions. Karma is used popularly in the west as if it is expunged from any metaphysical commitments.

The desire for some force to tip the scales of justice is strong. As already noted, the eye for an eye — var. tit for tat, blow for blow— impulse is a deeply embedded social concept. And, this impulse is rhetorically useful “as an available means of persuasion (Aristotle, Rhetoric, Book I, Ch. II, p.6, 1355b, 25).”

Now’s a good time to revisit Aristotle’s definition of anger, “Anger is an impulse, accompanied by pain, to a conspicuous revenge for a conspicuous slight directed without justification toward what concerns oneself or toward what concerns one’s friends (Book II, Ch. 2, p. 60, 1378^a, 30).”

As Aristotle says of pathos, “The Emotions are all those feelings that so change men to affect their judgments… We must arrange what we say of each of them under three heads … of anger…we must discover (1) what the state of mind of angry people is; (2) who the people are with whom we usually get angry, and (3) on what grounds they get angry with them (Book II, Ch. 1, p. 60, 1378^a, 25).”

And it’s here that ethos and pathos intersect. Recall, cf Aristotle, that people are more inclined to believe a good person, especially one who demonstrates good will and good sense. And so anger must be right-motivated; i.e. appear to be motivated by just cause. A cause that demonstrates good character. Thus a speaker elicits righteous anger in her audience, so they, too, feel like good people.

Recall Eisenberger et al’s fMRI study of social exclusion that suggests, “social pain is analogous in its neurocognitive function to physical pain (Eisenberger et al, 292).” This study might explain how an individual responds to her own social injury. But how does an individual feel the pain of social injury on behalf of strangers with whom she identifies or feels are due some special obligations?

Neuroscientists might point at mirror neurons and the region associated with empathy in our brains as evidence for one’s capacity to feel others’ pain. Evolutionary biologists might say she doesn’t feel their pain so much as she is protecting herself from social injury by virtue signalling.

Aristotle might have captured both of these phenomena in what he calls pity: “a feeling of pain caused by the sight of some evil, destructive or painful, which befalls one who does not deserve it, and which we might expect to befall ourselves or or some friends of ours, and moreover to befall us soon (Book II, Ch 8, p 77, 1385^b, 15).” And he says, “In order to feel pity we must believe in the goodness of some people; if you think nobody good, you will believe that everyone deserves evil fortune. (Book II, Ch 8, p 77, 1385^b, 35).”

It’d be interesting to explore the relations between pity and injustice. Perhaps in another post.

In a series, still in progress, The Political Rhetor and the Future, I have entries on three classes of people frequently deployed in politic rhetoric as victims of injustices: The Poor ; Children; and, Future Generations (the first of three). Each of these categories denote innocent and vulnerable people, and are thus useful for building up one’s ethos and engendering righteous anger in an audience— as they always have and always will.

Compare the following two quotes. The first is Aristotle from somewhere around 350 BCE. The second from Archbishop Shevchuk in 2022:

“The fact is that anger makes us confident — that anger is excited by our knowledge that we are the wronged, and that the divine power is always supposed to be on the side of the wronged (Book II, Ch. 5, p.72 1383^b, 10).”

“Archbishop Sviatoslav Shevchuk of Kyiv-Halych, head of the Ukrainian Catholic Church … [said] He, who holds in his hands the fate of the whole world and of each person in particular, is always on the side of the victims of unjust aggression, the suffering and the enslaved.”

• Catholic News Service,”Ukrainian archbishop assures people that God is with them,” National Catholic Reporter, https://www.ncronline.org/news/people/ukrainian-archbishop-assures-people-god-them , February 24, 2022
  
  

A political candidate will often criticise his or her opponent-and-cronies as having wronged people who do not deserve to be wronged. And the candidate vows to right those wrongs, to make their futures brighter. So help [him or her] God.

“Thank you. And may God bless America.” Remarks by Vice President Kamala Harris at the Celebration of America, January 20, 2021.

“Thank you, God Bless You, And God Bless America.” Inaugural Address, Donald Trump, January 20, 2017.