The Looking Glass; Or A Sunday Morning Chat with my friends Meliorism & Schadenfreude

Meliorism: the belief that the world tends to improve and that humans can aid its betterment.

Schadenfreude: enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others.

What two better words to consider on a Sunday morning? The neighbor’s rooster is crowing, my cat that escaped the house last night and disrupted my sleep with worry was waiting for me patiently at the back door, the tea is hot and the cream fresh. All of these happenstances contribute to the perfect sense of ease with which to sit and ponder the concepts of both meliorism and schadenfreude (I mean, who doesn’t do this on a Sunday morning?!).

So…meliorism. Interesting times to consider such a possibility. Covid is now 8 months old (in U.S. time), the schools remain closed, some predict a stock market spiral and economic collapse, our children are increasingly lost to devices, our people continue to clash over human rights and California - where I live - continues to burn. Just yesterday I read about a “megafire merger” – the likely collision of two megafires that just yesterday were only 9 miles distant.

In such an environment, meliorism seems like a ridiculous concept. A fairytale. A spoonful of sugar and nothing else. Humans have demonstrated a remarkable capacity to foul the nest – as if all our will is bent on it. Consume more, take more, want more. Greed of the highest order.

And yet, and yet. Every day I am graced with incredible human ingenuity, even grace. A beautiful painting, a profound book. Haunting narratives and melodies. A colorful flower garden, a mind-blowing piece of engineering. A friend who is shot through with goodness and passion and love. We can’t be all that bad, can we?

Certainly not, when I have these personal brushes with random acts of kindness to point to: my daughter pressing her nose into the crook of my neck; my son coming up and voluntarily draping his arm around me; a beloved sister mailing a just because I love you gift; a stranger – utterly unknown to me – offering to buy the book I’m hoping to read but can’t purchase because the seller doesn’t take credit cards and I never carry cash. All of these are demonstrations of human compassion and kindness caught in the moment. And then, of course, there are people out there constructing safer buildings, developing vaccines and medicines, creating ingenious ways to bring food to starving people, lobbying every day for education, equitable housing, civil rights, environmental cleanup, counseling and addiction services - to name just a very few.  

We are not all bad apples. We have plenty of righteous people in our midst.

And yet, and yet. Schadenfreude! I have to admit that I was tickled pink when I learned yesterday that Trump tested positive for Covid-19. I think I actually laughed aloud and snorted into my coffee cup. What just desserts! What perfect irony! May he sputter and gasp for breath, I thought. May he feel the weight of one hundred elephants standing on his chest. May he be wide-eyed with fear, sweaty and gulping.

Or how about the time, in high school, when I delighted at the fact that my biggest rival – the unconquerable, perfectly poised Samantha – slipped in a muddy pool and soaked the rear of her sexy white pants? Or when I danced a little jig upon learning that a colleague – always sneering, always making obnoxious comments, someone with a permanent “resting bitch face” – was let go for unprofessional conduct?

Such quiet delights certainly aren’t in line with the concept of meliorism; in fact, they may be the exact opposite. Here’s an Arthur Schopenhauer quote (German philosopher):

“To feel envy is human,

To savor schadenfreude is diabolic.”

Do I savor schadenfreude? Do I actually revel in other people’s misfortunes? Upon closer examination, it turns out that I most likely am not diabolical, though I do feel envy, dislike and distaste for others. Yet I’m unconvinced that these base emotions of mine are diabolical because I can also see that these occasional descents into schadenfreude almost always morph into eventual feelings of compassion. Why? Because I’ve been the girl with the muddy pants. And, although I’ve never been fired from a job, I have been an actively disliked colleague. And I have most certainly engaged in unbecoming conduct. So, if I can recall such moments in my own life, and remember my own humiliation, my own feelings of rage or haughtiness or blatant immaturity that led to those ugly displays of unprofessionalism or childishness, then I can only look anew at other people’s misfortune and feel compassion for the pain that they are likely feeling. We can all be saved by our own disgrace. Saved by our own humiliations. These are the lessons in life – they are part of what makes us the complex and messy, lovable creatures that we are.  

But not everyone is lovable. Some people are pure ugly. In my experience, those are the folks who cannot, or will not, engage in self-reflection. The sorts who step aside from a looking glass so that they don’t have to take stock of themselves and see what is both contorted and graceful, or simultaneously jealous and loving. The unlovable sorts – the diabolical ones – put on their blinders so that they can continue cutting a little closer to the bone in the pursuit of what they want. They become reckless, they become consumed with their goal or greed or lust or drive – whatever you want to call it – and plow through any obstacle that stands in their path, regardless of the destruction. They derail, they cut at the stem, they strip from the root.

Luckily, I do not think there are too many of these diabolical sorts. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever truly gotten to know one, though I’m certain I have met at least a couple. Most people to me seem inherently good. They can stomach the looking glass, they can slow down enough to taste a bitter root and realize that it is, in fact, bitter and not worth too long a graze. They inventory the name of the bitter root in their catalogue of experiences, set it aside and move on. Evolved, at least in part.

And so we cycle back to the concept of meliorism and to the very real possibility that people can work toward the betterment of society. That we can all improve and, in so doing, contribute to the world around us. I believe that phenomenon starts at home – with a hug, with a kiss, with the gift of time, with a loving ear. When we feel brave enough, we can gaze into the looking glass and therein see timeless repetitions of other human experiences, other human faces. It is these echoing faces that remind us to be empathic and to stay open-hearted.

So when those moments of schadenfreude rear their ugly little heads – as they most certainly will – we can trust that they are nothing more than a passing fancy, a fleeting tickle or a burp of mischievous delight that materializes into little more than steam and vapor.