The relationship between power and morality is a curious one. Most people, most of the time, have no desire to harm others. True, we might find other people irritating and annoying, but generally we don’t consider hurting them as a solution.
But when individuals gather unto themselves unusual amounts of power — financial, political, or physical — things can change.
In the ancient Persian Empire, Cyrus the Great called himself the “king of kings.” He held absolute power over an empire that stretched from the Balkans in the west to what is now Afghanistan in the east. But with this power he maintained a society of exemplary justice and tolerance for all his subject peoples, including religious tolerance. This record is markedly different to our current period of belligerence, discrimination, and intolerance.
Other kings and powerful people have, by contrast, exhibited horrific indifference to the suffering of others, and in many cases have taken it on themselves to cause such suffering. Hitler and Stalin, both of which dictators directed the murder and suffering of millions of people, come to mind.
Psychologists have examined the relationship between power and morality with some rigor. Consider these findings published in Current Opinion in Psychology, December 2015.
People with less power (making one more vulnerable to social sanction) find others’ opinions and moral expectations inhibit many of their behavioural impulses, for good or evil. Increasing power enables such people to more easily ignore such inhibitions, and all too frequently, they do so.
Power also affects a person’s self-focus, making it easier to ignore others’ needs. Thus, power can undermine morality.
These observations are particularly relevant to current political conditions. Combine big money, electoral success, and ego-driven authoritarian indifference to others, and a country is headed for trouble.
Authoritarian leaders are obsessed with power. Governing to them consists of, “I will [insert extravagant claim here].” There’s no room for expertise or consultation, just the empowered individual giving orders.
Authoritarians don’t even try to explain themselves, relying instead on tarring opponents with personal invective, hate speech (often racist), and intimidation. Those who disagree are labelled “vermin, wacko” or “evil.” Canadians have had such deplorable name-calling masquerading as debate in parliament.
To Donald Trump, there are no real experts beyond himself. Truth supposedly emerges untarnished through his imaginative babbling. “Facts” are whatever he dreams up that further polishes his ego or adds another few million to his fortune.
Most chilling of all is authoritarians’ willingness to stand comfortably by while thousands of people suffer and die as a result of their decisions. To Trump, it’s a necessary part of making America “great” again.
A further absurdity is the broad pleasure shared by such leaders’ general supporters, as if they somehow share in his power, and thereby share in the joy of bullying others, without feeling any guilt. It’s a baffling grotesquerie of human nature. But it’s real, the banality of evil on full display. As Voltaire observed, if people can be convinced to believe absurdities, they’ll equally easily commit atrocities.
Trump once remarked that he enjoyed so much support that he could shoot someone on the streets of New York and no one would try to stop him. Talk about drunk on power.
His recent actions will likely hurt, and maybe even kill thousands of people. He’s essentially getting away with murder.
