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By Casey Chalk
Earlier this year a meta-analysis in Advances in Psychological Science found a correlation between having a heightened sense of self-righteousness and what is called "third-party punishment," meaning punishing someone for a perceived infraction, even when you are not the victim of that infraction. An earlier study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that people are eager to express outrage and punish wrongdoers even when there is no identifiable personal benefit, because moralistic behavior signals our moral character to others.
Worrying contemporary factors aggravate this phenomenon. We live in a culture that diminishes the role of sin and personal culpability while amplifying our sense of self. Social media encourages the creation of curated versions of ourselves that foreground our "best version of ourselves" while concealing our vices or shortcomings. We inhabit a deracinated, atomized society in which we know and are known by few people, but, ironically, are beholden to an obsession with celebrity – not only actual celebrities, but the cult of celebrity, where we aspire to be celebrated through "likes" and "shares." Much of this digital culture primes us for both virtue signaling and participation in "cancel culture."
It's alarming, not only because of the likelihood of unjustly ruining reputations and careers, but because of what this paradigm does to the souls of those who participate in it. We don't know these online people, and are rarely privy to sufficient context to effectively evaluate them. Yet we caustically comment on the public, viral misdeeds of others – parenting decisions, relationship choices, appearance, or social etiquette. How could such behavior not do bad things to our souls?
The Church offers a different way of understanding correction, a truly Christian ethic based on a proper anthropology, an understanding of human weakness, of repentance, forgiveness, and redemption that enables us to overcome errors. It does good, both for the one being corrected, as well as the one correcting.
At Sunday Mass earlier this month, we read: "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone." (Matthew 18:15) This is a method of correction that is discreet, respectful, and premised on the existence of a relationship, someone we know, with whom there exists a degree of trust and social currency. That correction, in turn, is not a way of burnishing our own moral credentials, but a desire for metanoia and the strengthening of personal bonds. We admonish the wayward because we love them and desire their good.
Another component of the Christian conception of correction is the prudential evaluation of circumstances. Is the person we perceive to be in the wrong capable of receiving correction? If not, attempting to do so may very well retard that person's ability to receive correction later.
Even if we think someone capable of listening to us, we may be rebuffed, and must prudently judge whether the error is so egregious as to be raised in a broader setting, which could very well also provoke evils worse than the first one. Perhaps, the offense is simply worth patiently suffering and praying over. It's dissatisfying but often the best option, because many wrongs, though censurable, risk causing far more harm if they are publicly exposed.
The sacrament of penance provides another proper forum for confrontation and repentance, because all Catholics are expected to regularly examine their consciences according to an objective standard of justice, and confess sins to a priest offering absolution in persona Christi. Many Catholics do not avail themselves of this incomparable gift. But those who do, even those stubbornly resistant to perceiving their own sins, enter into a framework where they are humbly willing to be instructed and strengthened by sacramental grace.
I knew a laywoman serving in a variety of authority roles in the Church who became incen...
Earlier this year a meta-analysis in Advances in Psychological Science found a correlation between having a heightened sense of self-righteousness and what is called "third-party punishment," meaning punishing someone for a perceived infraction, even when you are not the victim of that infraction. An earlier study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that people are eager to express outrage and punish wrongdoers even when there is no identifiable personal benefit, because moralistic behavior signals our moral character to others.
Worrying contemporary factors aggravate this phenomenon. We live in a culture that diminishes the role of sin and personal culpability while amplifying our sense of self. Social media encourages the creation of curated versions of ourselves that foreground our "best version of ourselves" while concealing our vices or shortcomings. We inhabit a deracinated, atomized society in which we know and are known by few people, but, ironically, are beholden to an obsession with celebrity – not only actual celebrities, but the cult of celebrity, where we aspire to be celebrated through "likes" and "shares." Much of this digital culture primes us for both virtue signaling and participation in "cancel culture."
It's alarming, not only because of the likelihood of unjustly ruining reputations and careers, but because of what this paradigm does to the souls of those who participate in it. We don't know these online people, and are rarely privy to sufficient context to effectively evaluate them. Yet we caustically comment on the public, viral misdeeds of others – parenting decisions, relationship choices, appearance, or social etiquette. How could such behavior not do bad things to our souls?
The Church offers a different way of understanding correction, a truly Christian ethic based on a proper anthropology, an understanding of human weakness, of repentance, forgiveness, and redemption that enables us to overcome errors. It does good, both for the one being corrected, as well as the one correcting.
At Sunday Mass earlier this month, we read: "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone." (Matthew 18:15) This is a method of correction that is discreet, respectful, and premised on the existence of a relationship, someone we know, with whom there exists a degree of trust and social currency. That correction, in turn, is not a way of burnishing our own moral credentials, but a desire for metanoia and the strengthening of personal bonds. We admonish the wayward because we love them and desire their good.
Another component of the Christian conception of correction is the prudential evaluation of circumstances. Is the person we perceive to be in the wrong capable of receiving correction? If not, attempting to do so may very well retard that person's ability to receive correction later.
Even if we think someone capable of listening to us, we may be rebuffed, and must prudently judge whether the error is so egregious as to be raised in a broader setting, which could very well also provoke evils worse than the first one. Perhaps, the offense is simply worth patiently suffering and praying over. It's dissatisfying but often the best option, because many wrongs, though censurable, risk causing far more harm if they are publicly exposed.
The sacrament of penance provides another proper forum for confrontation and repentance, because all Catholics are expected to regularly examine their consciences according to an objective standard of justice, and confess sins to a priest offering absolution in persona Christi. Many Catholics do not avail themselves of this incomparable gift. But those who do, even those stubbornly resistant to perceiving their own sins, enter into a framework where they are humbly willing to be instructed and strengthened by sacramental grace.
I knew a laywoman serving in a variety of authority roles in the Church who became incen...