Have we become addicted to 'pseudo-outrage' in an image obsessed world?
In our image-obsessed world our newly found addiction to outrage delivers a satisfying kick of moral righteousness along with an increase in our social standing online, suggests
THE prickle of irritation. The rush of indignation. The craving for release. Tap tap tap, send. Ahhhh. That’s better. For now.
The consumption of news these days has a predictable pattern.
Disbelief, indignation, anger - and if the media have done their job well - an avalanche of outraged tweets and posts.
Each angry post or acerbic tweet delivers a satisfying kick, at least for an instant, allowing us to feel not just part of the conversation, but part of the righteous resistance.
And the outrage kick grows as the likes and retweets roll in.
We are addicted to outrage.
It is not enough to feel disappointed or sad, and certainly not thoughtful or curious. Our reactions must be dialled up to maximum.
Our addiction is fuelled by a media industry and social media platforms that are organised around feeding our habit.
For many news media the news is no longer about the objective and neutral delivery of information.
Stories are carefully selected, peppered with loaded words and superlatives, and delivered in a shrill tone of breathless indignation.
The goal? To supply the audience with enough outrage so they will click, share and keep coming back for more.
As with all drug trades, it is driven by the lure of profits.
In a hyper-competitive media world, journalists and media organisations that avoid sensationalist content are quickly punished with a declining readership.
Of course the supply of content is only half the story.
To actually score the hit, we need the opportunity to express our outrage.
This is where social media comes in.
As Oxford psychology professor Molly Crocket explains, social media not only makes the expression of outrage easier, it also makes it infinitely more satisfying.
Social media allows us to signal our own moral virtue to those we want to impress, and through likes and retweets, reaffirms our sense of belonging to that group.
Crocker’s research shows that people express less outrage when they are anonymous – when you cannot be personally rewarded for your ‘correct’ views, it is not worth the effort.
Social media turns outrage into valuable social capital, and that is what makes it feels so good.
But what harm? If the media can make a buck from stoking our outrage, and we can gain some online popularity from expressing it, perhaps it’s win-win.
An addiction maybe, but more of the coffee variety than an opioid crisis.
Unfortunately, the outrage epidemic is not so benign.
For one thing, it fuels the polarisation of views that is so evident in our culture today.
Each outrageous story, and our response, allow us to imagine that we are fighting on the right side of an epic battle between good and evil (replace with conservative and liberal, Repeal and Save, men and women, Remain and Leave, Alt-Right and Social Justice Warrior as you see fit).
It also makes it harder to distinguish the trivial from the serious.
As journalist Ryan Holliday observes, if we are constantly in a state of ‘pseudo-outrage’, we are less likely to take action (or demand action) when an actual terrible event occurs.
In a world where everything is outrageous, nothing is.
When our outrage is directed at an individual, it can destroy lives.
Jon Ronson’s book So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed gives a depressing account of how our penchant for online outrage has targeted people for fairly minor transgressions, decimating reputations, careers and friendships in the process.
If we do accept we have a problem, what is there to do about it?
We could demand that the media act more responsibly, cutting back on the sensationalism and dog whistle content.
We could press social media platforms to do a better job at filtering out fake news stories or abusive comments and posts.
Or perhaps we need to accept responsibility for our own habit.
Does that story really merit an outraged response? Could we cope with taking it down a notch? Could our comments push a more nuanced balanced view?
But it will be a hard habit to break.
When we are confronted with stories that stir our emotions or challenge our views, outrage is an easy and comfortable response to choose.
Tim Krieder of The New York Times was the first to coin the phrase ‘outrage porn’, and perhaps still has the best explanation for why it is so addictive.
Like most drugs, it is not so much what it gives us, as what it helps us to escape.
“It spares us the impotent pain of empathy, and the harder, messier work of understanding.”
