When we humans are first born, our very first emotion is fear. As newborn babies we have no control over any aspect of our lives, and we are inherently scared that our needs will not be met. Out of this fear, babies are thusly born into a monarchical role, making everyone else bend to their wants and desires. Only with time, growth, and the understanding that they are loved can little ones eventually move towards hope and a democratic reciprocity with their caretakers.
In her book, Nussbaum posits that fear is on one end of a spectrum, while its opposite (and in essence its antidote) is hope. She exemplifies the difference between hope and fear with the analogy of looking at a glass of water and seeing it as either half full or half empty. In hope, you focus on the potentially good outcomes of an uncertain scenario, whereas in fear, you focus on the bad.
Nussbaum delivers apt contemporary analysis throughout her book by examining ancient Roman and Greek thinkers. A quote that she, and now I, find worth sharing goes: “Aristotle tells political speakers that they will be able to whip up fear only if (a) they portray the impending event as highly significant for survival or well-being, if (b) they make people think it is close at hand, and if, further (c) they make people feel that things are out of control — they can’t ward off the bad thing easily on their own.” If that sounds familiar, it is because that is essentially the backbone of current political strategy. The news cycle is filled with stories invoking fear about any number of controversial topics. Fear that immigrants will take our jobs. Fear that corrupt business practices are irreparably damaging our planet. Fear that terrorist groups from overseas are planning attacks on American soil. Fear that Democrats will take away our guns and squander our tax dollars. Fear that Republicans will build walls and restrict our labor unions. This year marks a Presidential election decision and each side stokes the fear of what the opposition’s win would mean for the country. A win for Joe Biden would give power back to the crooked democratic elite. A win for Donald Trump would further instill divisiveness and chaos within the populace. Where are the messages of hope?
We are also a very angry country, with resentment at injustices (both perceived and very real) boiling on high. Anger comes in two parts; outrage at wrongful acts and a desire for payback for those acts. In her book, Nussbaum shows how figures like Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, and Nelson Mandela understood this, and preached a need for people to dissociate one from the other. The indignation at unjust deeds is necessary in order to come together and seek change and justice. The desire for payback, especially in violent terms, is counter-productive. Basically, productive anger is good and destructive anger is bad. The ancient Romans and Greeks knew this, and culturally condemned such outburst of anger and intense emotions, seeing them as ultimately destructive to democracy. Gandhi said it best when he stated quite simply that “an eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.”
The obvious antidote is love and compassion for others, again something preached by King, Gandhi, and Mandela. Personally, I know far too many people who will spend a day marching against the current administration, holding signs reading “Love Trumps Hate” and will meanwhile proclaim “I hate President Trump!” That is in itself a contradiction, and makes me discredit such people’s opinions across all subjects. Nussbaum further adds that “we can unequivocally condemn racism without viewing racists as irremediably evil.” On this, I fervently agree. The same goes for homophobes, misogynists, xenophobes, and anyone who would stigmatize a specific group of people. The way to confront an individual who dislikes gay people, for example, is to give them an opportunity to meet some. Hopefully they come to see their fellow human as just that, a fellow. And if they don’t, we must accept that too, and continually challenge the grounds for their reasoning. Exposure to unfounded fears such as this require bringing a light to the darkness. Not, as some would have it, to condemn the darkness for being so frustratingly dark!
This same analogy applied to fear and hate can also be expanded to most things covered by similarly negative emotions like disgust and envy. During the Jim Crow era, for example, black people were thought of with disgust, and things like water fountains, swimming pools, and hotel beds could not be shared due to a belief that they would be contaminated. Only with the further desegregation of our country (and bringing a light to this dark ideology) did people come to realize these ideals were completely false, based on a foundation of fear.
It always seems to come back to fear, which makes sense, seeing as it is our first prescribed emotion. For a stark contrast between good and evil, look at Star Wars. Yoda hits it on the head when he says: “Fear is the path to the dark side…fear leads to anger…anger leads to hate…hate leads to suffering.” Yoda says this to a young Anakin Skywalker. Unfortunately for the good guys, Skywalker progressively gives in to his fear of losing his loved ones and eventually becomes Darth Vader, one of our most culturally well known antagonists.
What does all this mean for us? It means that whenever we feel the pull of negative emotions, we should remember that all emotions exist in balance with another. Whether it be fear, anger, disgust, envy, or another, we can always look at the glass half full and find hope, tranquility, compassion, and love. Fear is absolute, even monarchical, as the title of the book suggests. But love can be so as well if we take it upon ourselves to make it so.