The politics of feelings

Since antiquity, feelings and emotions have been intrinsic to being political - they can stir up a sudden, vital, and decisive move, in person or in a group at the most basic level, to swing to or from an idea, a goal, or an object. Moreover, they can turn us into short-tempered, blind, and violent as they can make us moderate, compassionate, and caring.

Politicians who skilfully appeal to our emotions can easily penetrate our minds' most irrational and unconscious territories. They trigger our desires, fears, and preferences before we can assess them properly, even though we may believe we have made a rational decision.

In short, whoever plays politics at this fundamental level instantly and effectively wins the hearts and minds of millions of people.

In many public discourses, rhetoric is given the utmost place where feelings and emotions are used to influence, convince, mobilise, and manipulate the public. Increasingly, the expression "How I feel," for instance, is used more frequently than "What I think" in our political discourse. We are seeing this trend more in the politics of Wokeism.

In general, the phrase "How I feel" indicates the expression of an idea with a highly emotional tone, laden with feelings and irresistible appeals. It aims to instantly animate more sensibilities, responses, and reactions in political domains, tacitly forcing to follow the rules of political correctness. When "How I feel" is dominant, it draws people's attention and sensitises them to the depth and acuteness of the issue expressed in and through feelings and emotions. This starkly contrasts "What I think", which often comes with big, structured and potentially "dull" arguments adorned with cliches or lofty concepts. The contrast between the two is too eminent, with ''How I feel" carrying a more immediate, irrefutable and powerful impact.

When a political conversation descends to a sensible level, it becomes less serious, objective and balanced but more provocative, divisive and overwhelming. However, for some, this is a deliberate attempt to secretly gain what they pursue-to avoid further or deeper discussions to persuade others with facts, evidence and, above all, rational reasoning.

Here is the trick: while "What I think" needs a logical procedure to display an idea coherently, "How I feel" does not need anything to display logically or rationally. I just express my feelings and emotions in a certain way, in my own way. Hence, I am not obliged to show any coherence, even the coherence of my feelings and emotions.

And I know that nobody who may refute how I think can refute how I feel. Furthermore, "How I feel" is infinitely "true." And it is my truth. It is my only truth, so it can withstand any other truths, however universal, proven, or objective they are. My truth is sacred and self-sufficient. This concept of "sacredness" implies that one's feelings and emotions are beyond reproach or critique, and any attempt to challenge them is seen as an attack on one's personality, identity and, more importantly, a way of being political and doing politics.

"How I feel" has another charm-it implies all the common feelings to such a level that they may form a mighty wall against any resistance or pushback. It unites all who feel the same way at the most fundamental levels to create a collective emotional network, resonance and echo chamber effect that is hard to change, let alone dismantle.

To a large extent, the ancient Greek political thought attempted to guard against "How I feel" and promote "What I think" openly and consistently across all chambers of political institutions, thanks to their recognition of the universality of rationality that lies at the foundation for public understanding, political reasoning, and decision-making. It is not the "sacredness" of personal or group feelings but the universality of political rationality that has made Western political culture resilient, mature and progressive over centuries. The refutability and falsifiability of political arguments do not weaken the political arena but strengthen it. They make this arena more robust, contestable, transparent, and trustworthy, ensuring the avoidance of political dogma, intolerance, partisan animosity, control, and tyranny.

The crucial point is that we may be united or divided by agreements or disagreements on rational levels, but we are more radically divided or united on emotional levels. In most cases, emotional division leaves little or no room for us to reach any middle ground. There is no middle ground but a space of black or white-either love (pleasure or happiness) or hate (fear or animosity).

If rational arguments have flaws in logical structures or premises, they can be pointed out and corrected. However, if feelings and emotions have "flaws," we cannot say it quickly, let alone challenge them persuasively, even though it is important to remember that we would not be attacking the person's feelings but rather the "argument" they are making based on those feelings.

In a democracy, when a majority agrees upon a rule, a minority must tolerate it, even if it feels hurt or offended. In it, the right to disagree is tolerated, but the duty to accept the agreement of the majority is a common-sense norm.

If this offence gets too much or is intolerable, peaceful, legal, and rational means should be considered, i.e., political activism, complaints or legal procedures, or referendum-the potential for constructive change within our democratic systems.

Let us take the reversed decision of Australian Venue Co., which has now apologised after the Australia Day cancellation backlash. Initially, the pub group told the Herald Sunthat Australia Day celebrations would be cancelled for 2025, for "Australia Day is a day that causes sadness for some members of our community, so we have decided not to specifically celebrate a day that causes hurt for some of our patrons and our team." What is at stake here is that the company initially clearly took sides with a group that feels hurt while neglecting the feelings of others who may be joyful with Australian Day celebrations. The company does not know which side is the majority, nor do they have the legitimate power, apart from business influences, to decide on whether to go ahead with the Australia Day celebrations.

Even if a majority of Australians may feel hurt by the celebrations of Australia Day, the decision on whether to celebrate this day must be made in a politically appropriate and legally acceptable way. This can help to reduce social intolerance, tensions, and conflicts, and prevent the use of public sentiments to advance the agenda of virtue signalling and empathetic victimhood.

In some cases, under the influence of Wokeism, the tyranny of a minority is imposed upon a majority by provocation and manipulation of feelings. This provocation, instead of reconciling the interests of different groups through the democratic process, only seeks to fuel tensions.

While I do not discount the role of feelings and emotions in our political life, I am concerned about the excessive influence of "How I feel" in political discourse and activism. When feelings and emotions are used as a tool of persuasion, it blurs the lines between truth and falsity, and good and evil. This undermines our ability to engage in rational discussions, leading to political incompetence and the spread of untruth and virtue signalling that corrupts public intelligence.