#346: Sine Ira et Studio: Without Anger and Passion

How much emotion should we display when we talk about something that’s dear to us? If we want to communicate to people, if we want to tell them about something that we think needs to change, how do we approach such a difficult question?

Let’s look at a Roman example.

I want to talk about a Roman author, Publius Cornelius Tacitus, who lived in the first two centuries AD. He was a historian, famous for his Annals and Histories. He writes about the first Roman emperors, or principes, that came after and with Caesar.

He opens this book with his methodology. He says that he will pursue the writing sine ira et studio—without wrath and passion, without anger and partisanship, without all of those things that now are rewarded by the algorithm.

He had a very clear position toward those people. Julius Caesar concluded a long phase, the so-called Roman Revolution, which was also the transformation of a society by new and more industrious classes of people—the so-called equestrian class, those who were able to afford a horse. And they were working on displacing the importance of the senatorial class, the established old aristocracy, you could say.

Caesar was made dictator, which is a Roman term for a function where you could give all power to one person for a limited time in case of an emergency. Normally the city was governed by two magistrates, the so-called consuls, but the dictator could go it alone.

The fear was that Caesar would call himself a king—rex—an old function known to the Romans from the Etruscans. The very Etruscans against whom the Romans had rebelled to establish a republic. To want to be a king was completely against everything that the Romans stood for.

Caesar getting physically removed did not change the development. His death then led to another civil war, and eventually Octavian—a distant relative that he adopted, eventually a son—made himself the first of the principes. His name then became Augustus: Julius Caesar Augustus. And with that, a new form of rule was built.

Augustus could be said to be maybe one of the best emperors. The word “emperor” is kind of a post-Roman, definitely post-classical terminology, but I’ll just use it for the sake of simplicity.

And then after Augustus, with Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, Claudius—and all of these others—many in the senatorial class, many in the established elites, really did not like the new system.

So what Tacitus describes here is not how he feels. Just by what he chooses to write about, you know that this author does not like what’s going on. He is, of course, angry. He is, of course, passionate. But he does not want this to reflect in his writing, because he wants to make the case that the imperial, aristocratic order is wrong. He speaks for the old republic. He speaks against this new empire.

And we all know it is easy to be angry. Being angry is one of the things that come naturally to human beings, because something always goes wrong. Something always happens to us that we think is unfair. That’s life. You can focus on that anger. You can have that anger motivate you. But you need to somehow control it.

So if you say to others, “Well, I’m going to speak to you because I’m angry”—you may think your anger is unique. You may think your anger is something so authentic about you that people will listen to you just because of it. But your anger is not unique. Your cause maybe, but your anger is merely relatable.

We are talking here about communication. How do we communicate with others? How do we convince others? Does emotion work? Emotion works in an algorithmic situation. Emotion works to get people’s attention, but it also wears them down, and it makes them feel that you’re trying to manipulate them rather than convince them.

Tears are a very effective means of getting people’s attention, because we react to them. But people are also cynical. People are suspicious. Even if your tears are genuine, how do we know? Because people know you are trying to achieve something with what you’re saying. Do you want to come across as someone trying to manipulate people, or are you trying to convince them? Are you trying to let your arguments speak rather than your emotions? Because emotions can carry only so far.

So what we are really talking about, when we say communication, is that you’re trying to inform people about something. You’re probably also trying to convince them—and convincing is about changing minds. That’s why you communicate in the first place, maybe. Especially if you’re doing it on YouTube or similar platforms, or in a political arena, or even a personal one—you want to change the minds of people about a certain issue that’s dear to you.

It could be personal too. But the personal is something that eventually becomes political. Let’s say you’re angry about something that happened to you, and you’re trying to make a form of change that is not just about you but about people like you. This is when it becomes political. This is when it becomes about forming alliances with people who can help you achieve your goals. And even if you’re just a talker, maybe someone else will be doing the action.

So in the end, this is about democracy, and democracy works through arguments. It works through people getting together, talking—that’s why the word “parliament” comes from parler, from talking, a means of talking. Or, as Habermas has called it, a public sphere, where you get together and exchange your positions.

And that means, in this communicative situation, you have to do two things: speaking and listening. Listening is sometimes more difficult than speaking. But the problem is, when you’re angry, that becomes difficult, because you typically cannot listen in anger. When you’re angry, or when you’re allowing yourself to be angry, it consumes you. It overrides your logical thinking. It overrides your ability to see things from the other side, to listen.

And that also goes for the other side. They may be angry too, but angry in a different way. So now you need to model a behavior that brings them to your side. But you typically do not allow yourself to change your mind if you are emotionally invested—or if you’re showing it, or if you’re putting yourself in a position where this emotion is overriding everything else.

Simply put: calm is better than angry. It has to be genuine, too. So you have to work on yourself. You have to discipline yourself. Discipline works.

You may wonder why I’m not talking more agitatedly about some topics on this channel. It’s because I’m not allowing myself to. I don’t want this to be me screaming and hollering into the world, being perceived just for my emotional outburst—because then no one’s listening. They’re looking at the spectacle.

We are also not talking here about the denial of feelings. No one is saying that you shouldn’t feel your feelings. But how do we communicate them? You can say, “I’m passionate about this—but here’s the argument I’m trying to make.” You can admit to your anger. You can admit to your frustration. Why is this happening? Why aren’t these people listened to? Why do we have to do these things that I don’t agree with?

And eventually, we have to connect to a community, to the wider community, to society. We have to talk to others. We can’t go it alone. Which means we have to have a dialogue. We have to position ourselves so that we are open to listening, and so that we are communicating that others are welcome to influence me too.

This is about dialogue, and eventually about making some change, hopefully. But you can only make change if you respect your audience—if you don’t see your audience as merely an audience, but as an interlocutor, as a partner, as somebody who listens, thinks, and talks back, in the hope of having a conversation. And that can best be achieved without anger, without too much passion. Sine ira et studio.