Outrage isn't action

Something has been made strikingly clear in recent weeks: the power of public opinion to sway decision-makers. Two of the National Football League’s premier running backs face stiff discipline for domestic violence. Ray Rice was released by the Baltimore Ravens and suspended indefinitely after video surfaced of him punching his then-fiancée. The Minnesota Vikings’ Adrian Peterson has been deactivated and charged with beating his 4-year-old son with a switch and leaving bloody welts on the boy’s body. The teams and the league have taken action, but they very well might not have if the public had not made itself loudly heard.

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell and team officials could have taken swift action to suspend both players pending legal investigations and due process. Instead they hesitated, seemingly hoping they could keep these stars on the field and reap the financial benefit. Only when the media and the American people, primarily through social media, rose up and cried “foul” (often using rather foul language) did the men in power relent.

It seems to be a victory of justice for the populous, but it gives me pause. I am glad these two men are being dealt with in firm and cautious ways, and that the law is being brought to bear. But I am uncomfortable with how it came about. Does the end justify the means? Is public outrage a reliable method of bringing about justice and upholding what is right?

Think back just a few weeks to the events in Ferguson, Mo. Has that been resolved? Have the wrongs been made right? Most of us have no idea because public outrage died, at least among the majority. In fact, the issues in Ferguson persist, even if the obvious protests do not. We moved on with our lives and looked for the next opportunity to Twitter-rant. It came in the form of two NFL players.

As a society, we love outrage. It sparks debates, fuels lively interactions, and, as we’ve seen, can occasionally bring about some positive change. But most of the time it is a Fourth of July sparkler—white hot for a brief time before its smoke drifts lazily away to nothing. Outrage serves to fill time, not fill needs.

The reason Goodell, the Ravens, and the Vikings took action to discipline Rice and Peterson wasn’t, in fact, because of the vitriol. It was because of what that vitriol would lead to: a loss of money. The emotion and the anger mattered far less than the canceled sponsorships, lost ticket sales, and potential boycotts. It is action that resolves conflicts and corrects injustice, not outrage.

Many people, even Christians, tend to view public outrage as activism. It isn’t. It’s noise, flash, and clatter. Activism is, well, active. To right wrongs takes actual steps, not just tweeting or shouting about them. A Facebook diatribe or a biting blog post doesn’t defend the innocent. For outrage to do good it must be lived with passion, thoughtfulness, and care for others.