July 23, 2010

When Is It Reasonable to Be Angry With, or to Dislike, Someone?

Yesterday, out of the blue, Grobstein asked me whether I'd consider it reasonable to be angry with, or to dislike, someone just because he's causing me pain, however justified. Specifically, Grob asked whether I'd necessarily feel anger or hatred towards my torturer if I were being tortured, pursuant to a legitimate warrant, because I was suspected of knowing the location of a ticking time bomb.

I responded that I wouldn't, essentially because I consider it reasonable to dislike people based on their characteristics, not on their actions alone. For example, if someone got into a car accident with me, and it wasn't my fault, I wouldn't necessarily be angry with her; I would reserve judgment pending information regarding her state of mind -- was she, say, reckless, or was she doing her best but handicapped by inexperience? Similarly, for all I know my torturer is a cool guy who's just doing his job.

Upon further reflection, I think there's a noteworthy distinction between the reasonable grounds for disliking someone and the reasonable grounds for being angry with someone. When I'm legitimately angry with someone, I think it's necessarily because I believe she acted badly. I can't think of a situation in which I'd be legitimately angry with someone (as opposed to upset at my circumstances) but not think she should have behaved differently -- in a way that wouldn't have reasonably roused my wrath. Thus, I believe that being legitimately angry with someone implies that I consider her blameworthy.

On the other hand, I think the reasonable grounds for disliking someone are much broader, albeit circumscribed by proscriptions against prejudice, bigotry, and the like. Blameworthiness entails culpability, whereas one can reasonably be considered unlikable for all sorts of non-blameworthy reasons, such as having a bad sense of humor or being prejudiced against nerdy forms of entertainment. In other words, it's okay to dislike someone for having "bad" tastes, even if the existence of these tastes isn't his fault or, indeed, isn't a fault at all. However, we shouldn't be too quick to judge. We owe it to ourselves and others not to -- or at least to try not to -- feel distaste towards someone unless we have some idea of the content of her character.

I'm not sure how to defend my position in the abstract other than by noting that I regard attitudes such as anger and dislike as inescapably directed at dispositions, not actions. Although I typically say I feel angry at someone because of something he did, I think my anger stems from my view of the other person's motivations. Hurting me is not sufficient grounds for me to be angry with you; after all, you may have a good excuse, or even a justification. I may nevertheless be upset, but I wouldn't be upset with you -- at least, I don't think it would be reasonable for me to be, because you haven't exhibited an upsetting disposition. Analogously, I may be angry at losing a competition, but I shouldn't be angry with the winner if she was a good sport.

Ultimately, my position comes down to my view of anger and dislike as necessarily entailing judgments of character. When I say I'm angry with someone, I basically mean I think he's being an asshole. When I say I dislike someone, I basically mean that I find her unpleasant to deal with on the whole.

I'll add that I feel that reserving anger and dislike in these ways is a worthwhile form of self-mastery and facilitates good judgment. Consider the fundamental attribution error, which counsels against, for example, assuming that someone else who runs a red light must be a jerk (a dispositional explanation), while claiming that it was an emergency when we engaged in the same behavior (a situational explanation). We ought to scrutinize the bases of our anger and dislike lest we fall into such psychological traps -- lest we become jerks ourselves.

Grob disagrees with me -- he'd be angry with his torturer. Here's his view, as expressed to me in correspondence:

"It blows my mind that (you claim) you do not hate the torturer. You are not friends with your friends because they are the kind of people who are your friends. You are friends with them because of history and contingent circumstance. Given a different history and (especially) more social mastery, you would be friends with different people – indeed, different kinds of people. You give your kindness and loyalty to your friends (so I hope) even though they are not at bottom the most deserving. How could they be, given the happenstance that has led to your connections? Similarly, I hate the person who is my enemy, who is hurting or trying to destroy me, even if they have a good excuse, and even if in a counterfactual world we could have been friends. It’s bizarre to me that you (claim to) weigh the procedural safeguards before you decide how you feel about your tormentor – well, if there are torture warrants, and Posner signed off on mine, then shit. Perhaps those things are relevant. I do not think they are determinative. It seems crazy that you (claim to) believe that how someone is treating you is actually irrelevant to your relationship with that person.

"There may be some ideal sense in which hate is never an appropriate emotion, and we should all strive to be more Christ-like. Or perhaps we should learn to somehow accept but not condone hate in ourselves, so we do not dwell on it, or whatever. I try not to dwell on it. But I have not been searching for or describing ideal attitudes – just personal ones that I think are “reasonable.” It makes sense to point out here the scarier implications of Christ-like social ethics. According to Luke, J.C. says, “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple.” In other words, these are ultimately contingent attachments or granfalloons – you just happen to be your parents’ children; why should you have any special feeling towards them? But attachments are probably psychologically impossible without loyalty, and loyalty means ignoring the merits and privileging contingent history. To be this way – as I think we must – means accepting to some extent that our feelings must be ruled by immediate circumstance, however arbitrary. To overcome this is a “self-mastery” that destroys something valuable."

What do you think?