I Wouldn't Do That
Not everybody has virtues, but everybody has the low animal instincts, the basic primitive caveman suggestibility, the suspicions and vicious traits of the savage.
— Carl Jung, C.G. Jung Speaking, p. 134
Self-righteousness comes in different forms. Sometimes they come off as "I'm not like the other girls", and sometimes, they come out when someone commits a terrible, horrendous crime. And the crowd goes on social media and shouts: "I'm not like him, I wouldn't do that". Or that despite their misfortunes, they didn't fall into the same trap as the perpetrator.
It's like announcing to the whole world how despite also being rejected from art school, you didn't become a cold-blooded dictator.
Beneath the gloating, self-righteous behaviour that sneakily fishes for attention and validation during a tragedy, is a person whose self-esteem is so low that a horrific tragedy is seen as the time to obtain salve in the form of likes and adulation.
The most concerning and disturbing thing is how the audience showers this kind of self-righteous sanctimonious behaviour with praise. "I wish more people were like you", "you're such a good person", all while oblivious to the individual's desperate clamour for validation.
Social media tends to validate people of this kind - the ones that shout the loudest on rooftops saying look at me, "I didn't steal, I didn't kill, I am a good person". People seem to have forgotten that it was decent common folks in Germany that led to the rise of the Nazis, not some sinister looking man who would mix potions and hex his neighbour's children.
People like to believe that if they've led a life free of crime, that if they were nice to everyone, they are a good person. But as the Bible has mentioned,
... all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,
— Romans 3:23 (RSV)
What people overlook is that most "good people" are nice because they were raised in conditions far superior to many: a roof over their head, loving parents who take interest in them, and friends and relatives who remember their birthdays. One should not waste their time calculating their privilege but acknowledge them in humbleness and awareness that without those variables and conditions, they too could have gone down the same destructive road as the people they condemn. A common link in dictators is the hatred they all have for their fathers, which further confirms that the conditions of our upbringing will inevitably affect us more than we realise.
Good fathers may be able to stop world wars.
“Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler, and Mao Zedong all shared at least one thing in common: they hated their fathers.
Remarkably, all 3 seemed to have loved their mothers, and Hitler and Mao saw themselves in alliance with their mother against their father.”— Chris Williamson (@ChrisWillx)
It is of no surprise today that many people who succumb to a life of crime, debauchery, and murder, did not have the best support systems when they were growing up. You may say "but I too grew up in miserable conditions". But if you examine your life, you might find a sliver of silver lining that gave you enough joy or perhaps a sense of light to divert your attention from potential destruction. Some people never do, or perhaps, their perceptions were too marred by their external conditions.
It's true, the man (or the monster) is wrong. But the first step closer to committing a crime is the admission "I wouldn't do that". That very same avoidance that prevents us from seeing our own darkness also appears when we look away when someone is suffering. The avoidance then becomes a form of self-protection: to protect us from seeing our own shadow when we come face-to-face with that of another person, because it makes us feel powerless.
No one should excuse a crime committed but that doesn't mean we dismiss the pain of the perpetrator, because unacknowledged pain can metastasise into something bigger.
Pain can be both beautiful and ugly. Beautiful when it is accepted and acknowledged, and ugly when it is dismissed, belittled, and romanticised.