Illustration by Michael DiMilo
By Geoff Carter
The world I grew up in has been turned on its head. Donald Trump, the presumed Republican presidential candidate has posted a video exalting a “unified Reich” in America. When I was a kid, Nazis used to be the bad guys. Joseph Alito, one of our Supreme Court justices has been flying flags—emblems of Christian nationalism and sympathy for election deniers—at his home. Such political partisanship in our highest court has been unheard of—except when another Justice Clarence Thomas’ wife openly sided with election deniers and perpetrators of the January 6th insurrection. The aforementioned presidential candidate is currently on trial for conspiring to hide hush money payments to a porn star just before the 2016 presidential election. What the hell is happening? Is there no sense of morality—of simple right and wrong—anymore?
The line between right and wrong, good and bad, positive and negative, which has become increasingly blurred over the past few years, has become nearly indistinguishable. Part of the reason for this has been articulated by Andy Crouch in a Christianity Today Essay. As referenced by David Brooks in his New York Times Opinion Piece, Crouch’s distinction between a guilt culture and a shame culture is basic to understanding these societal changes.
According to Crouch, a guilt culture is based on and individual moral compass—a conscience. The distinction between right and wrong is based on individual values. In a shame culture, on the other hand, right and wrong is based on how acts are evaluated by societal judgements. If the community approves, it’s good. If not, it’s bad. School cliques, mobs, and social media are examples of this sort of shame culture. As Brooks says, “in a guilt culture people sometimes feel they do bad things; in a shame culture social exclusion makes people feel they are bad.”
Of course, shame culture has always been around forever and is especially pronounced in adolescence. Cliques, bullying, and fashion are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to ostracizing our fellow humans. After graduation, many of these behaviors sink beneath the surface of decent behavior—although they still exist.
In recent years, however, shame culture has come under fire. Body-shaming has especially become a no-no. Calling out someone for their sexuality or their religious beliefs is frowned upon—and rightly so. Yet, in other areas, specifically social media, shame culture is prevalent, in fact thriving. It’s an us and them culture. If a user happens to disagree with someone’s politics, they might be ridiculed, insulted, humiliated, threatened, or worse. In some cases, social media users have published names, addresses, and phone numbers of targeted victims in order to further ostracize or punish them. Conversely, those who agree with the crowd, the herd, the flock, are welcomed with open arms. Groups will defend themselves intensely if they come under attack.
Outside of social media, this shame culture phenomenon has been become even more pronounced in the world of politics. Far-right MAGA Republicans are especially vicious toward those who denigrate or mock not only their group, but its figurehead, former president Donald Trump. Since the rise of Trump, his MAGA movement, and the Freedom Caucus, the solidarity of mainstream Republicans has been slowly but steadily eroding. Members of the party who dare to speak out against Mr. Trump have been shunned and ostracized from the party—excommunicated—if you will. Liz Cheney, former House representative from Wyoming, who sat on the House Committee investigating the January 6thattack on the Capitol and who was a vocal critic of Trump, lost her House seat in the Republican primary and has since been reviled by active members of her former party. Ms. Cheney seems to be a living contrast to the shame culture; she is an example of individual conscience, the embodiment of personal morality—a child of guilt culture.
Conversely, some members of the Republican party will do anything to become or remain included in the group. Marjorie Taylor Greene, like a middle-schooler seeking attention, has been attacking the opposing party mercilessly, even stooping low enough to toss a racial insult at a fellow representative during a House Committee Oversight Hearing. A group of Republicans in a show of support for their fearless leader, former President Trump, came to the Manhattan courtroom where his trial is taking place and, in a post-trial press conference, just happened to repeat the same charges their chief had been making—for which he had been charged with contempt of court—against the judge, the DA, the Justice Department, and even the judge’s daughter. These erstwhile supporters of Mr. Trump even went so far as to wear the same color suits and ties, a visual affirmation of inclusion, of belonging to the herd.
This is a two-way street. As much as the far-right. Liberals and democrats are just as inclusive—or exclusive—when it comes to protecting their own solidarity. They are just as rude and insulting on social media as Republicans, although they do not seem to go so far as to terrorize election workers as their MAGA counterparts have done during their “stop the steal” protests.
When the only differentiation between right and wrong is majority rule, morality becomes not only fluid, but dependent upon the welfare of the group. If the group is going hungry, it’s all right to steal food in order to feed it because that’s what everyone wants. If someone insults the group, it’s okay to attack them in order to protect the group. The group is one. The group is all.
Guilt culture places morality squarely on the shoulders of the individual. Liz Cheney knows that the January 6thattack on the Capitol Building was wrong. She believes what former President Trump did to foment it was wrong, and she has the courage to give voice to her beliefs. She was condemned and ostracized by her group for doing so, but she has stuck to her guns, demonstrating courage that is all too rare these days.
It’s easy to follow the herd, especially if a member can hide behind a computer screen and a fake username to voice their opinion. For middle schoolers unsure of themselves and their place in the world, following the herd is sometimes a necessity, but for adults, there is no excuse. There is no substitute for individual integrity, individual responsibility, and individual conscience.
Morality cannot be at the mercy of public opinion; if so, we become little more than a mob. Belonging unquestioningly to any group, accepting all their dictums and assertions implicitly is an on-ramp to the road to ruin. Common sense, common human decency, and critical thinking must once again rule our sense of right and wrong. Otherwise, a unified reich might very well be in our future.