Righteous Indignation

Judgey Bear explains why we follow rules…

In an idealized version of our world, we all exercise acts of common courtesy and minimize the impact of our actions on others. We would do these things because we care about our fellow man, because we believe in a sense of community, because gosh golly we’re nice people. The reality of the situation is that the world at large, and this city in particular, is full of assholes. Like a virus, assholitis is an exponentially spreading condition. Continued exposure to the virus leaves even the most Polyanna of us wondering, “Why bother doing unto others, when they have no intention of returning the favor? If you can’t beat ‘em, may as well join ‘em.” And another asshole is born.

There’s a far more compelling reason for exercising these courtesies and minimizing our impact on others. It affords us the warm fuzzy feelings of righteous indignation. Before gathering all that indignation about you like a cozy winter cloak, you have to be righteous. If you stoop to, say, “dibbs” or honking at birds, you cannot judge others who do. And there’s nothing Judgey Bear loves more than to judge. Technically, I suppose you could judge, but you would be wrong and a hypocrite. In which case, Judgey Bear will judge your judgment. And you. Harshly. 

What if everyone lived and treated others according to their desire to judge others from a pulpit of righteousness? In order to avoid hypocrisy, we’d have to put ourselves in someone else’s place, if only to decide what behavior would elicit judgment. Stuck in a long line of traffic? Tempted to honk? Ah, but if you were in front of yourself, being honked at, would you judge? Then lay off that horn, buddy.

We would be forced to put ourselves in someone else’s place, to contemplate how we would react when someone was in our position. Not because we care about our fellow man, no. Because we want the right to judge freely and wantonly.

Does it get us to the same place? Despite my judgey motives, am I describing a naïve and impossible utopia? I like to think that, though the results are similar, the path of righteous indignation may be an easier one for most to follow than selflessness and concern for the community.