Our Righteous Anger— Is it Killing Us?
How Emotion, Neurodivergence, and History, might help us fight fascism.
Firebrands and new readers alike,
I have spent the last 8 months angry. Everything I read, the videos I watch—of people being abducted and disappeared—the terror on their faces as they are torn from the arms of their loved ones.
I know I’m not the only one to feel this way. To wake up seething. Feeling powerless and weak as we look around and ask ourselves:
What can I do about masked men armed with the same kit that our special forces used to kill Osama Bin Laden?
The fury of watching our friends and family lose their healthcare; seeing the programs we have paid into our whole lives gutted to fund tax cuts for people who have more money than they could ever spend.
It’s maddening. I understand, and I feel it too.
I heard it said recently that we are entering a “cool time.”
Which sounds backwards as hell, but here’s what the speaker meant:
Like all the worst times in history—as a history geek myself, there are eras that are fascinating to read about.
The Civil War.
World War I and II.
Vietnam.
Etc.
These are “cool” things to read about, to understand—but they sucked beyond words to live through.
It’s one thing to read about battlefield amputations and cannonballs.
It’s one thing to envision those brave young kids jumping from planes deep behind enemy lines to capture key bridges before the massive D-Day landing.
It’s one thing to imagine storming the beaches of Normandy on Omaha Beach with German machine guns spitting 2000 rounds per minute.
It’s one thing to read about the Battle of the Somme—the trench rot and the rampant disease.
It was entirely different to live through them.
That is where we are.
I imagine the people jumping out of those planes, storming those beaches, watching their precious limbs be taken over a flesh wound, and watching their boots rot off their feet—were very angry too.
When anger is morally justified, it can be a tool.
It can motivate us. Drive us. Make us strong.
All things have a purpose—or at least seem to.
Evolution sometimes gives us traits that seem very unhelpful.
Particularly our poor ability to regulate our emotions—and arguably, their existence at all.
They are the most exploitable trait we have.
Yet they exist—so they must have done some good somewhere.
Natural selection dictates they must have some value.
Which leads us in a different direction.
This weaponization of emotion—and the refusal to think—is what brings me to a group I’ve come to admire most.
I often wonder: why does history show that those with autism are so often ostracized?
Why are they discriminated against?
One of the hallmarks of autism is the lack of emotion—not that they don’t have them—but people with autism rely on logic. They don’t make emotionally driven decisions.
Those in power exploit the many using emotion.
They whip the people up, pulling on their grief, their anger.
Wind up the masses like a toy and set them off against one another.
I think this is why we see such persecution—because those with autism cannot be controlled like most of us.
They use logic first. Emotion is on the back burner.
They are a danger to existing power structures.
They see the pattern.
They don’t feel the propaganda or the contradictions.
There’s a long history.
The term “Asperger’s Syndrome” originated in Nazi Germany—when those with autism were being rounded up.
Fascism hates autism.
I think this is because nationalism doesn’t really work on people who don’t respond to emotional triggers the same way.
Additionally, those with autism are incredible in their fields and often excel in their special interests.
The educated are a danger to fascism.
Which is why I find it chilling that RFK’s Health and Human Services is now compiling a database of Americans with autism—claiming that a hereditary genetic condition can somehow be caused by vaccination.
This has been done before.
It’s pure fascism.
My partner has autism, and this in particular causes me great anxiety—and a lot of anger.
Anger is what drove the Founding Fathers to break ties with Britain.
It’s what motivated those who marched with MLK Jr. for civil rights.
But that anger wasn’t reckless—it was backed by something.
This is where we can learn from those who are different from us—those with autism.
Emotions are powerful, but if they become too strong, we stop being smart and start being reckless.
I think the fascists are counting on that.
On us filling up with so much anger and hate that we stop being smart and start being reckless.
That would doom us.
So we must find a way to have our anger—not let it go.
Because it is righteous. It is necessary.
It reminds us that change is needed.
That what’s happening now is unacceptable.
But if anger replaces all our feelings—our joy, our grief, our love, our curiosity—
We lose ourselves.
That, in itself, is a tragedy.
So we must find ways to channel it.
To find peace.
To do our part—and be ready if we need to do more.
But we can’t just always be angry.
There are lots of ways to mitigate this. I’ve tried meditation.
It’s been working.
Look into ways you can find peace and beauty.
And know this: these “cool times” must at some point become history.
They must be lived through.
But they are not forever.
We must use our anger to drive us to be smart.
To play to win—not to satisfy our need for vengeance.
I’m not saying don’t resist.
I’m not saying things might not get harder and require more of each of us.
I’m simply saying: if we get too angry, we fall into their hands.
These actions are meant to enrage us.
To justify even more extreme action.
So we must call their bluff—
And use our anger to be smarter.
We all have to find a way to cope.
It might be different for each of us.
But when you’re done here,
I encourage you to go find it.
We can do this.
Let them rage. We’ll think. And we’ll win.
Burn Bright.
Anger motivates
A timely reminder.