The problem with outrage – when anger backfires

There are many good reasons to feel outraged nowadays, and many impassioned conversations are fuelled by this feeling. What is happening in the Middle East, what is still happening in Ukraine, and the damage being done to the planet by the fossil fuel industry are all good examples of things we might feel outraged about. Definitions of outrage include shock and surprise, as well as anger and disgust at the violation of moral codes or behavioural norms. The feeling is infused with righteousness, which feels good—but does it do good? Sadly, although outrage is a very human and understandable reaction, and one that can, in the right circumstances, energise us, it can also do the opposite.

Outrage as a response to powerlessness

Witnessing others whom we cannot protect being harmed by those with more power and resources—or better weapons and bombs—is likely to trigger a sense of powerlessness that is deeply uncomfortable. We may even feel ashamed that we cannot help, or guilty that others are suffering and we are not. There is no reason why I should feel ashamed by the actions of a president of another country, but the neurochemistry of powerlessness seems to be coupled with that of shame. Outrage trumps powerlessness and feels a whole lot better; subconsciously, it serves to fling my shame onto those who are causing the damage.

Outrage is addictive

Many of us have been socialised to believe that anger is unacceptable and have learned to suppress it in favour of more socially acceptable behaviours, but that sense of righteousness on behalf of others seems to make rage socially acceptable. It feels good to give vent to feelings that have been suppressed, and we can become addicted to outrage. You probably know people who need a cause to get out of bed in the morning—people who are perpetually angry about something or other. We may admire the way they take on the problems of the world and engage in fighting causes, but in their company, we often feel guilty and exhausted. The desire to help victims of the misuse of power is honourable, and acting on this desire is compassionate; so far, so good. But when there is nothing effective that we can do to protect the victims, outrage is easier than feeling their pain.

Outrage and the drama triangle

The drama triangle identifies three normal human responses to threat: the bully, the victim, and the rescuer. The rescuer is the one who takes the side of the victim, in part because they can’t bear the victim’s distress, and most of us move between all three roles at different times and in different situations, although we usually have a preferred behaviour. Rage is present in all three states but in different ways: the bully’s rage is focused outwards, the victim’s rage is focused inwards, and in both cases the rage is a response to a direct threat. The rescuer’s rage is different because there is no direct threat to them—their outrage is on behalf of someone else. These three states interact in ways that make situations worse; the rescuer position is patronising to the victim and aggravating to the bully, and while it may make the rescuer feel better in the short term, it doesn’t work in the longer term any more than the bully’s or victim’s responses do.

Right action

Turning a blind eye or denying injustice is not right either, so what is helpful? Knowing what is going on and bearing witness to the full horror of those who are suffering is helpful, and letting victims know their suffering is being witnessed helps them. Taking to the streets and marching for justice can fulfil both aims, but it is also possible to do harm and make the situation worse. Right action does not do harm, but it involves a step that many find difficult.

The difficult bit

This step is understanding that those who are perpetrating horrors have been damaged themselves to the point where they cannot care about their victims. Their capacity to respect others and respond to suffering with compassion has been severely compromised, probably in early childhood when they were powerless victims themselves. These damaged bullies feel safer when they have someone they can exert power over, and they feel entirely justified in their brutal behaviour, mirroring the self-righteousness of the rescuer. In some perverse way, bullies and rescuers feed off each other by playing with shame, and no one can win in that situation.

Avoid giving power to the emotionally immature

So what can we do that is helpful? Given that we live in societies that still organise themselves hierarchically, we can take great care not to hand power over us to people who are damaged. The most important thing about our politicians is not their policies but their emotional maturity, personal integrity, and beliefs about other human beings. We don’t often see this information laid out in political manifestos, but we could demand it before we vote.

Consider collective inaction

Given that we live in a global society where leaders of other countries can wreak havoc beyond their borders, this may not be enough. Finding a centred, calm, and grounded place from which to consider helpful action is valuable; some people find this through meditation, others through prayer. Trying to understand the subconscious emotions of the bully—and the beliefs, attitudes, or behaviours they reinforce—can help. This is not the same as condoning them; rather, it brings them into the light in a compassionate and understanding way, interrupting the drama triangle and opening the possibility of change. This is the basis of much psychotherapy, and bringing racism and sexism in organisations to light without blame or shame is the starting point for many culture change programmes. Could this principle be applied to whole societies harmed by damaged leaders?

Right inaction

Research on the power of prayer suggests that groups of people focusing together with clarity and compassion can influence outcomes. Many groups are already doing this in churches, mosques, and synagogues across the globe, while others, including those without religious affiliation, are meditating on conflicts at the same time each week. One such initiative is the Great Synchronisation, and some suggest that change begins when 1% of the world’s population participates in this way.

What might emerge

Whether or not this is true, there are other benefits. In states of calm, connected inactivity—such as meditation or prayer—a sense of the most helpful action can emerge. “Right action” is specific to the situation, the people involved, and the moment; it is action most likely to do good and least likely to do harm, and it might even include no action. Maybe you could try this next time you feel outraged, perhaps with like-minded others for support. If you would like to try it in a supportive setting, explore Wellbeing Ventures. 

Written by Sarah Stewart-Brown

7 April 2026