The Pleasures of Vigilantism
“In any dispute the intensity of feeling is inversely proportional to the value of the stakes at issue.”-Sayre’s Law
Outraged moral vigilantism is the preferred role of the truly self-regarding; it affords its enactor a degree of rhetorical drama usually present only in thundering Hollywood courtroom scenes and permits a degree of smug self-satisfaction to accompany acts of violence. It is only the indignant vigilante who may at once try to hurt others and claim to be the victim of their stupidity, who may simultaneously attack and claim to defend, who may enact the ultimate passive-aggression: to persecute those s/he hates while declaring that it is they who offend.
Intellectuals are deeply attracted to such vigilantism, perhaps because –as Sayre famously noted- the fighting is most bitter when the stakes are low. Moreover, intellectuals are accustomed to being derided; at the first chance to deride another, we are ecstatic; we tend to be quite mean, given the chance. This ecstasy would be accompanied by guilt were it not for the intellectual’s innate capacity for rationalization: I am not being mean! Those I mock and attack and pick apart are, by their very lifestyles and characters, egregiously offensive to the just moral order! They are attention whores and materialists and racists and narcissists! They deserve to be hurt!
It is perhaps worth noting that everyone who hurts anyone thinks it is justified. But we might also ask: why do moral vigilantes hurt others? The general explanation –that someone needs to do it, that the world needs intellectual or aesthetic or moral policemen- fails to persuade. This is evident for the simple reason that people who mock others, who are morally outraged by what they perceive in others, do not want those people to change or go away. They use ineffectual methods deliberately.
If they wanted them to change, they would attempt –as we all do when trying to correct someone we love or persuade someone we respect- to compassionately, patiently, and with tremendous care argue their perspective, with only one stylistic imperative: to not alienate them, to not hurt them, to keep them engaged and willing to change. This does not guarantee success, of course, but it is the only feasible way to argue if we actually hope to persuade: start from what is shared, make sure you are respectful, and communicate that you are not attacking, only hoping to help.
If they wanted them to vanish, they would ignore them. Then they have vanished! It is like magic! If they want to show the world what is wrong with their targets, they would be what they think someone ought to be and illustrate by contrast: always more effective than illustration through attack.
But moral vigilantes enjoy hurting people, despite the fact that no one learns from derision or mockery or even brilliantly witty cruelty. Indeed, the opposite happens: curse me, laugh at me, attack and humiliate me, and I retreat into myself, cement my identity, fortify my defenses, become ever more committed to those elements of my identity under siege. Indeed, we might say: the surest way to preserve and perpetuate what you dislike in someone is to attack them for it. The surest way to eradicate what you dislike in someone, of course, is to stop disliking things in others; but that is much harder than tossing off a profane screed or savaging someone’s prose.
The final issue remains: what is it about us that inclines us to want to hurt others instead of trying to change them or showing the world what we think a person ought to be? I believe –based purely on what makes me angry, what makes me want to be mean- that it is always pain, always insecurity, always some inner torment. I have noted with alarm that almost everyone who angers me does so, as Hermann Hesse predicted, by reminding me of something I dislike in myself. The moral vigilante who hates others for their narcissism believes his or her feelings about narcissists are so important that they should be publicized to the anguish of the narcissists: if this isn’t narcissism, what is?
And so I propose this axiom, which can be contested but which guides me now, particularly in my writing: in almost all cases, to tell someone something is wrong with them is only to announce what is wrong with us. It is worse than mean, worse than ineffectual: it is literally counter-productive, and represents only our desire to attack while wearing the romantic mantle of the defender; like any desire, it tells the world more about us than about its object.
Note: this has little bearing on criticism as academically understood, of works or arguments, only on criticism of people; moreover, I am aware that I have been exceedingly guilty of this in my life and can only apologize to those whom my arrogance, criticism, and meanness have wounded.
Update: Jeff Miller very rightly notes that I’ve erred in ascribing malice to moral vigilantes (indeed, I likely did so because they remind me of myself: I needed some critical distance as self-assurance!). His comment is excellent; he points out that moral outrage is “imparted to us in childhood such that it becomes almost instinctual and unthinking…driven by habit, and not enjoyment… Are not some arguably misled to think that their actions are persuasive; that ridicules produces change and conformity? And if they believe that this change is necessary to save a soul (through religion, or even aesthetics or philosophy), aren’t they perhaps bound in allegiance to something higher than enjoyment? … Moreover, the biggest moral vigilantes I’ve met are rather unhappy people; they may be getting something from their crusade, but I wonder if it’s enjoyment…” Agreed.
