Outrage Culture: Looking Beyond Rage
First termed in 2014 by Professor of Political Science at Tufts University Jeffery M. Berry and Professor of Sociology at Tufts University Sarah Sobieraj, the term “outrage culture” refers to our “collective tendency to react, often with intense negativity, to developments around us,” specifically on the Internet. The two professors in their novel The Outrage Industry: Political Opinion and Media and the New Incivility attribute its start to the early 2010s with the dawn of Facebook and MySpace and other applications your dad probably used in a now-hilarious way.
An early example of outrage culture played out on the Rush Limbaugh Show. In early 2012, a Georgetown Law Student named Sandra Fluke spoke to the House Democrats at the time of the importance of mandating insurance coverage for contraceptives. Rush Limbaugh, on his own radio show, spoke on the topic a week later, calling Fluke a “slut” and a “prostitute”. “She wants to be paid to have sex. She's having so much sex she can't afford the contraception. She wants you and me and the taxpayers to pay her to have sex. What does that make us? We're the pimps.”
Limbaugh in the following days refused to really cover any other topic, as the comments had gained a ton of mostly negative but still attention. He lost national sponsors, was given a personal call from President Barack Obama, and was rebuked by both Mitt Romney and John McCain. Limbaugh apologized, but backed out of it a week later, saying that “I acted too much like the leftists who despise me. I descended to their level, using names and exaggerations. It's what we've come to expect from them, but it's way beneath me.” This rings of the loss of empathy I referred to in our last article, but I digress.
Now let’s fast forward to 2025. What elements of this scenario would repeat and what would not? Limbaugh was attacked in a collective, bipartisan fashion. Have you ever seen anything bipartisan online in the last five years? This would never happen today. Limbaugh was also an easy target, an old white man yelling into a microphone on what was more entertainment than news. He said himself that his show “illustrated the absurd with absurdity.” These seemingly so disrespectful remarks can be found in any X comment section, or on any Instagram or Tiktok presence anywhere. And worse, they are said with every intent to provoke and to outrage any audience they pick.
Many equate outrage culture with cancel culture, as both are a form of policing the Internet, but they are different. Outrage culture denounces content meant to provoke and not to inform, while cancel culture applies a sort of morality to content and to therefore the creators behind the content. Outrage culture contributes to the cancelling of an individual, but is not assessing moral punishment for the personal creator behind the screen. That’s the key distinction behind the two, despite them working in tandem.
Outrage culture has flourished since Limbaugh made his comments, driven by increasingly partisan news outlets, and partisan influencers preying on high traffic applications like Instagram or X. What these influencers do is try to take advantage of different sociological movements, such as the loss of trust in political institutions from younger Americans or the echo-chambering leanings of older Americans. What is sad is that there is a huge audience for this.
Those who provoke the most outrage achieve the most attention, the only currency available on the Internet. Termed by Forbes and economist Kyla Scanlon, we live in an “attention economy,” where every corporation, influencer, etc. is vying for our precious time within this gluttony of content we live in. Cutting through the noise is easiest when expressed in a personality, as we appreciate humanity more than ever when staring at our screens all day. Just look at how every celebrity has a brand now. The only way for brands to keep up is by attaching their logo to a human face and riding the ebb and flow of online fame.
When we attach ourselves to a personality online, it feels like we know them. This phenomenon can be felt in forms of art as well, specifically music. I love Wilco more than anyone probably ever, because I love the songwriting of Jeff Tweedy. A grizzled old dude from Chicago, Tweedy writes in a very evocative, personal way. I feel like I know the guy because I can sing every lyric of every song he wrote, and I associate memories with those songs and feel it in my heart. He’s my friend. So if Jeff Tweedy posts on X with a horrific political opinion I hate, I might choose to unfollow him or rethink my love for his music. His personal life and opinions taint my perception of his art, which I know exists as a huge debate (Michael Jackson, Kanye, etc.) but bear with me.
Why would I ever unfollow Jeff Tweedy? Unless he makes music that sucks and I don’t enjoy it anymore, I should only associate him with his music. That is what he does. He is a musician. He is not a politician, and should not espouse my morality. I am a Christian, Tweedy is not. That has never been a barrier for our relationship, just as it never is with my friends. Thom Yorke, lead singer of Radiohead, recently quit a show he was doing because he was heckled by fans. Yorke did not take a public stand on the conflict in Gaza, and was called a “fascist” halfway during a performance of “Nude” (That song is gorgeous and I would’ve smacked him on the spot if I were there). Yorke told him to “Shut up and let me play”, and upon said heckler not shutting up, Yorke said “Thank you” and left.
If that guy paid for a ticket, he loves Radiohead, which means he loves the whiny old goblin that is Thom Yorke. He ruined that concert for everyone because he applied his own morality and opinions to a musician mid-song. Yorke didn’t express an opinion, which meant immediately to that guy that Yorke did not express a suitable one. Anyone who knows Radiohead’s music knows that Yorke is the furthest from fascist. He must’ve mistaken him for Roger Waters.
These are two examples of how outrage culture fails. It fails because we see humans on our screen but forget that we are humans too. We expect our online presence to be a clean-cut representation of our every opinion and desire, which ultimately is unrealistic and leads to echo-chambering. Especially within the very complicated sphere of politics, this expectation is fruitless and unreasonable. Cancel culture seeks to provide boundaries of speech and action where there isn’t, and is more motivated by groupthink than by anything else. Outrage culture is a personal phenomenon.
How do we solve this? Why do musicians or artists or prominent figures even feel the need to comment on political issues? Because as we saw with Yorke, not saying anything is a confirmation of a wrong opinion. The only solution to outrage culture is a personal one, as it is a personal problem. Before condemning your favorite celebrity for cheating on their spouse or for vaguely offensive remarks, think of where your line is. Think of your friend group, or all the times they could’ve drawn the line with you. No world would exist without apology or mistakes, which is a lesson we all know but seem to forget.
The key to online discourse is seeing this outrage culture and rebuking it. Positively reinforce opinions you agree with, or are even well thought out. NYU psychologist Jay Van Bavel found that around 85% of comments on X in 2019 were negative. I wonder what that number would be today. Find credentialed outlets that express both sides, and champion education over agreement. Algorithms can be flawed, but are ultimately fueled by engagement. We can rewire these algorithms if we choose to engage more with thought out opinions over things meant to outrage or provoke. And that starts with withholding judgement and keeping our morality to ourself. Treat musicians like musicians, and treat opinions like opinions. Because it’s a human behind your screen, and humans behind other screens.
