Anger or Moral Outrage? (Maibom)

It has long been debated whether anger is, or can be, a moral emotion. Seneca famously argued that we should rid ourselves of this emotion (On Anger). But although the fascination with Stoicism has very much survived into our century, few, if any, endorse the suggestion that we should rid ourselves of most emotions. Nevertheless, if there ever were a promising candidate for elimination, anger would seem to be it. The destructive effects of anger are depressingly abundant. Despite this, even Stoic specialists are apologists for anger. In her book on Stoicism and the military—Stoic Warriors—Nancy Sherman insists that anger should not be eliminated because some forms of it are “constructive and healthy responses to injustice and wrongdoing” (67). Anger is OK when it is moral, e.g. when it is moral indignation or moral outrage. Anger at political states of affairs is commonly referred to as a prototypical of moral indignation. This ignores, of course, that one person’s injustice is another’s justice. Be that as it may, it is common to assume that there is a form of anger that is tracks the right sorts of things. Thus, Sherman concludes that: “To feel outrage in bearing witness to torture, massacre, or rape is a fundamental response to human violation, and a fundamental way we protest the shame and abject servility that violence inflicts. These responses are a part of our humanity to cultivate, not excise.” (Sherman 2005, 89). (Notice that, ironically some of what we ought to be angry about are, themselves, the fruits of anger.) This sounds nice. But is it true? There are reasons to be doubtful.

In a recent issue of Journal of Experimental Social Psychology (45, 155-60), Daniel Batson—known for his influential empathy-altruism studies—and colleagues find little evidence of moral outrage. In a series of studies meant to measure people’s judgments of torture, they find little evidence that torture evokes much anger unless the subjects have some relation to the person tortured. This stands in contrast to people’s judgments of moral wrongness, which is unaffected by relationship. There is a only a weak correlation between such judgments and the feeling of anger. The study follows up on earlier studies of the relationship between unfairness judgments and anger (Batson et al. 2007). Here, too, Batson and colleagues found that anger correlates well with unfair treatment of cared-for others, but not with judgments of unfairness per se. The same is, of course, true of unfair treatment of the self. In other words, one may be aware of unfair treatment of, or severe pain being inflicted upon, others without feeling much, if any, anger at all unless that other is regarded as a cared for other.

Batson et al. introduce the concept of ‘empathic anger’ to capture anger at maltreatment of cared-for others. In some of their studies, empathy induction was used to produce anger at others’ unfair treatment. One might, of course, wonder whether such anger ought to be regarded as empathic anger rather than just anger, since it is common to think that anger covers not just slights, insults, etc. to the self, but also to close others.  For instance, Richard Lazarus (1991) regards the core relational theme of anger to be ‘a demeaning offence against me and mine’ (122, my emphasis). Here, interestingly, Lazarus follows Aristotle in including close others—Aristotle talks of friends—as those offence against whom causes anger (Rhetoric). Does empathy induction serve to include others into one’s circle of friends or cared-for others? I don’t think we know. What we do know is that we are not likely to feel much anger at unfairness and harm to others, unless those others matter to us. Batson et al. conclude that there is currently little evidence in favor of anger being moral in nature, but caution that further research is needed.  

Now, this line of research gives rise to a lot of questions, and I do not expect the defenders of moral anger to be bowled over. They may, e.g., object to the construction of moral outrage as having the appraisal condition ‘a fairness/harm (or just: moral) principle has been violated’. However, if Batson et al.’s studies are replicated and extended appropriately, we will have to face the fact that anger, as a response to wrongs, is limited in scope to the self and cared-for others (not humanity). And that seems to be a serious limitation. Now, some people believe that anger is concerned with specifically moral wrongs inflicted on the self and cared-for others. But anger often arises over issues that may have little moral import, but that nevertheless affects someone’s wellbeing negatively. So might anger be a more, if you like, nepotistic emotion responsive to certain forms of negative impacts on wellbeing? In that case, what would the moral objection to getting rid of anger amount to? Might Seneca have been right? Assuming that we can rid ourselves of anger without rather serious side-effects, should we?

[Aristotle: Collected Works of Aristotle, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press 1984. Daniel Batson et al.: Anger at unfairness: Is it moral outrage? European Journal of Social Psychology, 37, 1272-85 (2007). Daniel Batson et al.: Pursuing moral outrage: Anger at torture. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 45, 155-60 (2009). Seneca: Moral and Political Essays, J. Cooper & J. Procope (Eds.), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Nancy Sherman: Stoic Warriors: The Ancient Philosophy Behind the Military Mind. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.]

Comments

[James Harold]

I tend to be sympathetic to your conclusion, but I'm not sure you've made the case for it on this evidence. Why would a proponent of moral anger admit that "if Batson et al.’s studies are replicated and extended appropriately, we will have to face the fact that anger, as a response to wrongs, is limited in scope to the self and cared-for others (not humanity)"? It seems that what they would say is, that if these studies are replicated, this shows a deficiency in moral education. People need to *learn* to feel anger in response to wrongs to others, no matter who they are. As I understand the studies from your description, it doesn't sound like they've shown that it's not possible for people to feel moral anger on behalf of those they do not know. They've merely shown that most people don't feel that sort of anger. But that's not a terribly surprising result, and it's surely compatible with the claim that moral anger would be a good thing for us to feel.

[Heidi Maibom]

It is an interesting question what the things are that we can learn to feel anger about. There is no doubt a lot of flexibility. Perhaps we could learn to feel anger at all moral transgressions. I doubt it, but let us assume that we could. Would this really be a desirable result? First of all, most of us would be in a constant state of anger, unless we learn to turn a blind eye to things. Secondly, anger seems to have action tendencies that are not necessarily desirable, e.g. revenge, lashing out, retaliation, etc. Thirdly, I suspect once we are angry, we are much less able to see things clearly and more likely to think that the event is a terrible wrong that has been committed even if, in fact, it is not a wrong at all. It seems to me that there are plenty of reasons to, if not eliminate, then cut down on, anger.
In any case, for some people the result will be surprising since many assume that moral anger is a very real and frequently occurring phenomenon (Haidt, Sherman, etc.). It seems not to be (depending, of course, on quite how you delineate 'moral').

[Brandon]

However, if Batson et al.’s studies are replicated and extended appropriately, we will have to face the fact that anger, as a response to wrongs, is limited in scope to the self and cared-for others (not humanity).

I'm a little puzzled as to why anyone would think this would be a problem for the view that anger is a moral emotion. Nothing has ever required that moral emotions cover every case. How does anger at the mistreatment of (say) one's daughter fail to be moral outrage merely because you do not experience the same anger at the mistreatment of anyone's daughter? That seems a non sequitur. In general people who are moral sentimentalists of any sort (whether they are talking about anger or any other emotion) do not tend to accept the idea that morality requires universalization; you can have a genuinely moral judgment, for instance, without recognizing that this applies to more than the particular case at hand, and moral sentimentalists hold you can have moral sentiments -- anger, or pity, or what have you, even if you only feel that moral sentiment with regard to things closely connected to you.

Further, most people I've ever read who regard anger as a moral emotion do not think that the role of anger in moral life is limited merely to the anger itself; rather, it also serves as an anchor-point for (relatively unemotional) moral reasoning. For instance, I might not get angry at the torture of x, but recognize that x's anger at being tortured is righteous outrage; I don't have to be angry to recognize anger as having moral force. Likewise, I might reason from my own moral outrage at someone's mistreatment to the claim that, if anyone else is mistreated in that way, I should stand up for them in the same way. Or someone might convince me to stand up for someone by pointing out my own moral outrage in a particular case and noting that someone else could have the same type of moral outrage in this new case. These don't require always feeling angry about every case like the one that made me angry (which would likely be exhausting, in any case, as you note in the comment). If there are moral sentiments of any sort, there are lots of different ways in which they can contribute to moral life; you don't have to assume that they are the only features of moral life, which is what this sort of argument at least seems to suggest. And I've never come across anyone who did assume that.

[Anibal]

And what about those evolutionary perspectives on our moral apparatus which say that vengance (and its emotional spur: anger) lies on the roots of our inherited sense of justice.

This is Jared Diamond´s view on the issue:http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/04/21/080421fa_fact_diamond