Celebrating Freedom When It Feels Fragile

The psychology of tribal glee, moral disgust, and a conflicted Fourth of July.

Image credit - Adobe Stock

Celebrating the Fourth can get weird in these divided times. This is probably not the first Fourth of July when people have felt conflicted about how to celebrate—or whether to celebrate at all. For many who voted for the current president or generally support the administration’s policies, they’re thrilled with how things are going. That would probably be true no matter which side was in the White House; there’s always a group in the happy camp. But there’s also the other side: those who are deeply unhappy with the country’s direction. And right now, I’m hearing that sentiment particularly loudly from listeners who fall into that group.

I’m seeing comments like: “I have fallen into depression. The depravity and cruelty is simply too much.” At the same time, I see some on the right championing “liberal tears” and people trying to understand what’s behind that attitude.

It’s heavy stuff.

First, I want to say: you’re not alone. Many people feel the way you do. You’re not weak or overly sensitive—you’re responding like a healthy human being who values compassion.

I’ll have more to say on this below, but I also want to talk briefly about the phenomenon of celebrating “liberal tears.” When people on the right gleefully talk about “liberal tears,” or the left's use of 'FAFO' when discussing Trump supporters impacted by his administration's policies, it’s an example of what psychologists call schadenfreude—pleasure at the misfortune or distress of the “other.”

It’s about identity and tribalism. When someone on “the other side” is upset, it’s seen as proof that my team is winning. It’s an emotional turbo boost.

Then there’s the key theme of our show, outrage. Outrage isn’t just anger—it’s often moral disgust. We want to see “them” punished or humiliated because we feel their values are dangerous or corrupt. It becomes about who they are and what we believe they deserve. It’s a kind of emotional super-energy: righteousness that’s addictive, giving people a rush of certainty and purpose.

And of course, all of this is tied to dehumanization. When we stop seeing others as fully human, it becomes much easier to say: “Your feelings don’t matter because you’re the enemy.”

But here’s the thing: we don’t sense all this consciously when we’re engaging in it.

Why It Feels So Crushing

When you see people celebrating someone’s pain — and especially if that pain is yours or someone like you — it can feel soul-crushing because:

• It violates basic human empathy.

• It makes the world feel colder, crueler, and less safe.

• It leaves you feeling isolated, as though compassion itself is slipping away from public life.

This is a real source of stress, anxiety, and even depression. It’s what some researchers call moral injury — the psychic harm that happens when your core sense of right and wrong is shattered by cruelty, indifference, or injustice.

Why “Most People Are Decent” Feels Empty

This is where most articles like this would remind us of those old standbys from what we call the bridging movement:

“Most people are good.”
“The loudest voices online aren’t the majority.”
“There’s more that unites us than divides us.”

There are lot of studies showing that, statistically, these sentiments are true. Most Americans don’t want violence. Many are exhausted by outrage and longing for connection.

But here’s the problem: when you’re witnessing real cruelty—people celebrating “liberal tears,” stripping away rights, or mocking suffering—those reassurances can feel dismissive. Like being told “cheer up!” at a funeral.

They’re not wrong, but they don’t address the pain of watching cruelty become entertainment—or the fear that “freedom” might only apply to some.

Emotional Versus Statistical Reality

Your brain primarily responds to salience, which is the emotional intensity of what you encounter, rather than its frequency. This means that even if hateful voices represent a minority, their loudness, relentlessness, and emotional charge allow them to penetrate your mental defenses. The pain of witnessing cruelty in real-time simply isn't soothed by statistics.

Proximity to Harm

If you are directly affected, or if you identify with groups that are being targeted, these kinds of statements can come across as dismissive. It's comparable to someone saying, "Most drivers are safe!" immediately after you've been involved in a car crash. While technically true, it offers little comfort in that moment.

Social Media's Distorting Effect

Social media platforms have a tendency to amplify anger, conflict, and extremism because these elements drive clicks and engagement. Consequently, the cruelty you see isn't imaginary; it's simply disproportionately visible. The individuals with the most aggressive or nasty viewpoints are often the ones given the most amplification. Thanks, Internet.

The Impact of Platitudes on Real Feelings

The statement "Most people are good" can frequently become a conversation stopper instead of an invitation to process genuine grief, fear, or anger. It can feel as though people are telling you, "Don't worry, it's fine," when, in reality, it's clearly not fine.

But… It’s Also Not Totally Wrong

Here’s why people say those things—sometimes clumsily, sometimes sincerely:

• Surveys consistently show most people don’t want violence or endless political warfare.

• Many people do feel exhausted and alienated by the same online toxicity you’re noticing.

• The “exhausted majority” often stays quiet because they fear conflict or being attacked themselves.

So the hope is not imaginary—but it’s not enough on its own. Knowing most people are decent doesn’t automatically protect you from cruelty—or heal the wounds left by witnessing it.

How to Bridge the Gap Between “Platitude” and Reality

Instead of just telling ourselves “most people are decent,” we might try reframing it like this:

“The cruelty we see online is real and harmful. But there’s also a quieter undercurrent of people who want a different way. It’s okay to grieve the cruelty and still believe better is possible.”

Your Feelings Are Not Overreactions

Looping back where we started, your distress is justified. It’s rational to feel disoriented and even hopeless sometimes when faced with relentless hostility and gloating cruelty. Saying “most people are decent” or “there’s more that unites us than divides us” doesn’t erase the harm being done—or the real risks for vulnerable communities.

Your sadness and anger are not signs of weakness. They’re evidence that you care deeply about human dignity and compassion. That’s not a defect—it’s a strength.

A Possible Next Step

Instead of leaning only on platitudes, it might help to:

Find small communities (online or offline) where decency is practiced, not just proclaimed.

Limit time in spaces that profit from outrage.

Channel feelings into action, even tiny acts of kindness or advocacy.

Acknowledge the reality: “This is cruel, and it hurts me” — without shaming yourself for feeling overwhelmed.

Freedom is a Verb

This July 4th, remember: freedom isn’t a static condition. It’s something we create, protect, and expand. And though the noise can feel overwhelming, you’re not alone in wanting a country that lives up to its promise.

So whether you’re marching, grilling, resting, or just breathing through it—know that your hope, your heartbreak, and your refusal to become numb all matter.

Wishing you peace and clarity, however you choose to spend the day.