Anger

Anger is recognized by Buddhist (and other) thinkers as a serious problem. The Dalai Lama states that anger is almost always damaging. He posits that, rarely, anger can be positive — for instance, when it mobilizes someone to defend a helpless person being attacked (i.e., if without anger, they would not get involved). However, this comparison is flawed. The correct comparison is between the two scenarios in which someone is mobilized to help, in one with anger and in the other without.

In my (perhaps not humble enough) opinion, anger is always damaging. In the example above, defending a helpless victim is, of course, superior to ignoring them. Still, if it is fueled by anger, everybody involved — the helpless victim, the intervening helper, and even the attacker — is likely to be worse off than when the same intervention is anger-free (ideally, fueled by compassion). The saying (attributed to Mark Twain) goes: “Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured” — an intervener fueled by anger is likely to be scarred by it. Moreover, the victim, and maybe even the aggressor, are likely to benefit from witnessing the model presented by someone transcending anger through a difficult, scary act.

The cost that anger has had in each of our lives is incalculable. Its cumulative cost to humanity is unimaginable.

Given how damaging anger is, it is reasonable to ask why it is so prevalent. The answer is in the pace of evolutionary change. Anger, arguably, serves a purpose when facing actual survival threats: One effect of anger on the brain is the legitimization of the use of force. Force can indeed make all the difference in a fight for survival. However, in the pursuit of happiness, absolutely nothing can be accomplished with the use of force. Hence, in circumstances outside the survival arena, anger serves no purpose at all.

From the dawn of humanity until a few hundred years ago, most members of our species were largely busy trying to survive. As I just said, in the survival arena, anger (and by extension, the use of force) can serve a purpose — the threatened individual may secure another day of living as a result of getting angry and responding to the threat forcefully, i.e., violently.

The socioeconomic changes of the last 250 years or so have led to the formation of a growing fraction of humanity (presently comprising about half of our species) referred to as ‘the middle class’ (Kharas, 2017). The defining feature of the middle class is that its members are free from having to continuously deal with survival threats as a way of life. Against the backdrop of this revolutionary progress, anger loses its (arguable) value. This social transformation happened at a pace far exceeding that of evolution: A mere few hundred years is not nearly enough time to replace survival-protecting functions that have been around for hundreds of thousands of years with more sophisticated traits, even if they represent a much better fit with the new reality.

The almost universal prevalence (and popularity) of anger is a manifestation of this evolutionary challenge. A rational approach based on accurate awareness of reality with a strong commitment to operate accordingly (i.e., a mindful approach) can make a big difference: It can promote the necessary evolutionary upgrade. It is possible (albeit not easy) to change even the most deeply ingrained habits. It requires a lot — a strong commitment, a willingness to tolerate discomfort, and countless repetitions in practice, but it is possible to modify the anger habit. Extinguishing it completely may be beyond most of us, but containing it is not.

As discussed in the Choice Making chapter, anger is one of the six (internal) intoxicating emotions. Just like external intoxications (e.g., caused by alcohol, cocaine, and heroin), it manifests with a temporary impairment of judgment, which invariably reduces the quality of one’s choices.

All intoxications have two phases: an acute phase followed by a second, more subtle ‘hangover’ phase, during which the brain recuperates and is not yet at its baseline level of operations. The quality of choices a brain generates is reduced during both phases.

A reduction in the quality of one’s choices is a serious problem. At the risk of being repetitive (which, as you may notice, I face boldly), the choice is the only instrument the human brain has to influence reality (as discussed in the Choice Making chapter). More specifically — our only way to influence the pursuit of happiness deliberately is via the choices we make: High-quality choices support it, poor choices undermine it. Thus, anything known to even potentially lower the quality of the choices we make is a serious threat and should be treated accordingly.

In a way, anger is a more dangerous intoxicant than external intoxicants. Intoxications on external molecules are inevitably preceded by a behavior (i.e., the actions leading up to the consumption of alcohol, as in “sure, I will have another”). This behavior can and should serve as a warning of what’s about to happen: The soon-to-be-intoxicated person knows that their choice-making capacity is about to be impaired and can plan ahead for it (e.g., assign a designated driver). Anger intoxications, in comparison, are not preplanned. By the time a person has a chance to realize they are intoxicated, it is often too late to contain the damage.

The hangover phase also distinguishes anger from external intoxications. When dealing with external intoxicants, a hangover is expected; not so when it comes to anger. For example, it is common knowledge that one is not going to be at (or near) the top of their game after a night of heavy drinking. Most people take this into consideration and, as much as possible, try to minimize their activity level until they recover fully (hence it is more socially acceptable to “party” on weekend nights than on nights followed by a workday).

The hangover associated with anger is generally unrecognized. As a consequence, most of us don’t take the necessary time to recover from an acute anger intoxication. We typically assume the brain returns to its baseline level of functioning as soon as we are no longer angry, which is a mistake: The quality of choices generated during the hangover phase is inevitably reduced. Without awareness of this, we risk extending the damage of anger by making poor choices long after the acute phase resolves.

In addition, anger is a formidable, extraordinarily dangerous enemy because it can brew beneath the surface of consciousness (as when it “explodes,” going from unnoticed to full-blown in an instant). Even unrecognized, it exerts a negative, intoxicating effect on the brain and the choices it generates.

The bottom line is that the awareness of anger typically arrives too late, after the damage is done. This can be modified with the practice of cultivating anger management skills. As I said above, it is hard work, but unquestionably worth the effort.

The Unique Aspects of Anger

Anger has three unique features that need to be recognized and appreciated to increase the likelihood of faring well in encounters with it.

The first peculiar and dangerous feature of anger is that under its influence, anger feels like a right, an entitlement. I’ve heard from patients (and experienced firsthand) countless variations of “I know anger is a problem, but this time, I have every right to be angry!” or “I’m entitled to my anger!”

The absurdity of this thinking becomes obvious when we’re not angry; when we are, we become temporarily blind to it. Under the influence of anger, we believe it is precious, something we cannot afford to give up. Variations of “They can take everything away from me, but they can’t take away my anger,” are often expressed while angry, manifesting this aspect of the intoxication.

The belief that anger has a positive value is linked with the misperceptions that getting angry validates one’s position and that remaining calm in a disagreement undermines the validity of one’s position or signals weak conviction.

Understanding the circumstances that lead to anger — one’s own or another’s — should not be confused with treating anger as a right or an entitlement; it is the opposite — a costly liability. Anger is an entitlement as much as lung disease is an entitlement of a smoker or diabetes is a right of the obese.

Throughout recorded history, various figures have exploited the primitive human inclination to treat anger as a right. Politicians, past and present, repugnantly incite anger for self-promotion, delivering the same essential message: anger is the followers’ inalienable right and must be protected. Manufacturing a survival threat is integral to these campaigns, often with tragic consequences (typically, they label contrary opinions as part of the existential threat, adding fuel to the fire).

[Sidebar: Hermann Goering, Nazi Reichsmarshall and Luftwaffe-Chief, was outright explicit about this in an interview recorded by Gustave Gilbert in Nuremberg Diary: “People can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism, and exposing the country to great danger.”]

An unwavering awareness that anger is neither a right nor an added value is one of the prerequisites for dealing with it effectively. Developing this awareness is a central goal in cultivating mindful anger management skills. Hence, we must vigilantly monitor our thoughts for evidence of these beliefs and reject them when they arise.

The second feature unique to anger is that it generates the conviction that an enemy is present. As we start getting angry, the brain senses danger and triggers the ‘enemy is closing in’ alarm. But the true enemy — anger itself — goes undetected. With anger unrecognized and the alarm blasting, we urgently search our vicinity for an enemy. The search doesn’t stop until an enemy is ‘found and dealt with,’ usually with force. Unfortunately, it can be an innocent bystander, a close friend, or even the person who loves you most. The price for this misdirected animosity ranges from minor (the need to apologize) to catastrophic (the irreversible loss of a precious relationship).

Anger, of course, doesn’t preclude the presence of enemies. However, under the influence of anger, it’s impossible to assess whether an external enemy is present and, if so, anger makes it impossible to assess the threat’s actual nature and magnitude reliably. To accomplish this, one must first neutralize the anger.

The third feature of anger that is uniquely dangerous is that it’s contagious. Spending time with an angry person makes getting angry more likely (referred to in social psychology and neuroscience as affective contagion or emotional contagion (Hatfield et al., 1993, 1994)). Remaining unaffected requires considerable practice. Two or more people interacting angrily can create a feedback loop, escalating their anger to startling intensities.

I emphasize these hidden features of anger because, in my experience, a realistic appreciation of the danger and inevitable cost of anger supports an ongoing commitment to the challenging practice required to develop the skill of containing and defusing it.

The Formation of Anger

Animals capable of sensing pain have a built-in pain management reflex: fight-or-flight. When an animal is in pain, one of four scenarios follows: (1) The pain resolves spontaneously. (2) The cause kills the animal. (3) The animal escapes. (4) The animal fights (and either survives or dies).

For all species but ours, this system works well. Humans face a fifth scenario: pains that don’t resolve spontaneously, aren’t lethal, and offer no option to escape or fight. The experience of persistent, non-lethal pain (physical or mental) is common enough to be considered a defining feature of the human condition. The ability to deal with such pain with dignity is a defining human trait.

Experiments subjecting animals to inescapable, non-lethal pain reveal a pattern (discussed in detail in the Depression chapter). When an animal recognizes the futility of fight-or-flight, one of two outcomes follows: despair or rage (Seligman & Maier, 1967; Maier & Seligman, 2016) — or a mixed variant cycling between the two. Therein lies the well-recognized link between anger and depression, captured eloquently by Steven Wright: “Depression is nothing more than anger without the enthusiasm” (and overused in psychotherapy and pop-psychology).

When fight-or-flight is rendered ineffective, the flight arm develops into despair, and the fight arm becomes anger.

Anger exists on an intensity continuum. At its lowest, we call it frustration. Then irritation, followed by frank anger. At the highest intensity level, it is called rage. The likelihood of intervening effectively to defuse anger is highest at the frustration level. As the emotional intensity rises, diffusing it becomes increasingly difficult. When it reaches a rage state, the likelihood of effective mindful intervention is essentially nil.

Frustration forms when the mind is convinced it is prevented from obtaining something gratifying — like a sweet dessert after a meal. Sensing a barrier to achieving gratification creates tension, which is what frustration is, and a primitive urge to break through it. This is the earliest stage of the entrapment-in-pain dynamic: the barrier represents a trap, and the tension of deprivation is the pain. If unresolved, frustration escalates to irritation and then to anger, which fully legitimizes the use of force to break the barrier, obtain the gratification, and resolve the tension.

If the withheld gratification becomes outright painful, and/or the barrier is perceived as an inescapable trap, frustration intensifies and progresses toward irritation, anger, and ultimately rage.

The antidote to frustration is patience. Successfully applying patience to frustration can prevent it from blossoming into irritation (and anger or rage). The value of the ability to do that, given the incalculable cost of anger, is difficult to overemphasize.

[Sidebar: As an example of frustration, think of having a fine meal and just when you expect to top it off with a sweet dessert, something comes up that prevents you from doing so. That’s where patience is so useful. In comparison, think about being hungry and not having food; obviously, a more dire circumstance that requires tolerance to manage mindfully.]

As the intoxication’s intensity surpasses mere frustration, patience becomes ineffective. At that point, applying tolerance (a more “powerful” antidote) can reverse the intoxication. Detoxifying from an even more intense intoxication — frank anger — calls for a still more potent antidote: compassion.

Once the intoxication reaches rage, however, no practice I know can reverse it. At that point, only time can help — an unfortunate reality given the damage rage typically inflicts. Since all intoxications resolve spontaneously with time, refraining from acting under the influence of rage and waiting it out is the best strategy (which is not a small challenge). Rage eventually decays back to frank anger, at which point the practice of mindfulness can regain its efficacy.

Since, as discussed above (and elsewhere), the build-up toward rage is composed of two parts — pain and entrapment — its optimal management requires a two-pronged approach: one addressing the pain and the other addressing the trap.

Hence, the path toward diffusing anger — one’s own or another’s — begins with the correct understanding of the underlying pain (and the inevitably linked suffering, as well as associated misery, if present). The mindful perspective on this triad is discussed in detail in the Pain, Suffering, and Misery chapter. The mindful application of pain management skills, patience, and tolerance (which, as would be expected, overlap significantly) can be remarkably effective in containing anger and preventing its consequences.

Addressing the second component requires a correct understanding of the psychology of entrapment. Human experience of entrapment is inseparable from the perception of time. That is, our experience of entrapment can be rooted in the past (trauma), present (disappointment), and future (threats). The way out of these temporal traps is through the application of forgiveness (to the past), acceptance (of the present), and hope (for the future). Compassion is a state of mind that incorporates these three attributes, which is why it is so effective in neutralizing anger. (Compassion and the practice of cultivating it are discussed in detail in a dedicated chapter.)

[Sidebar: 1. In the Buddhist worldview, the people you consider your enemies are, in a way, much more “important” than the people who treat you lovingly. Your perceived enemies offer you a precious opportunity — to practice and cultivate anger management skills (being treated kindly feels great, but doesn’t contribute much to developing mindfulness). This fits nicely with the different intensity levels of anger: Encounters with frustrating people are pretty common: The person at the grocery store express checkout line with way more items than the maximum allowed, and a bunch of (mostly expired) coupons, or the pedestrian taking his sweet time crossing the street in front of your car after your light has turned green. Moments of this type of frustration are great opportunities to practice cultivating patience — they are the epitome of a good deal: low cost, high benefit. Furthermore, they offer the opportunity to examine the sense of entrapment that such trivial frustrations tend to elicit and practice mindful techniques to address it.

  1. ‘Road rage’ is a rather bizarre phenomenon that makes some sense in the context of the discussion above. The rage is triggered when the brain concludes that it is in a trap. When the stranger in the next car’s driving feels like it’s reducing your influence over your position — making you change lanes or, even worse, tap the brakes and slow down — it registers as taking away some degree of your freedom. To a mind already struggling with a lack of freedom (usually resulting from completely unrelated interactions, e.g., with one’s spouse, their bank manager, or the government), it can be a “last straw.” To the extent that it causes a momentary illusion of complete entrapment, responding with rage is understandable (though pathological).
    The (typically subconscious) sense of mental entrapment is a major component behind road rage (freedom is both a physical and a mental experience, as discussed in the Freedom chapter). It’s not just influence over one’s physical position that is lost; the loss of the ability to think about anything other than the person driving the other car is a loss of one’s influence over their mental position, i.e., it is a loss of mental freedom. If the person in a scenario leading to rage were to choose to think about anything other than their “oppressor” (literally anything — the song playing on the radio, the movie they saw the night before, their plans for the weekend), they would regain influence over their mental position and immediately feel less trapped and thus less likely to respond with rage.]

Pain, suffering, misery, patience, tolerance, forgiveness, acceptance, hope, freedom, and compassion are central concepts in the human condition (and the practice of mindfulness), each in its own way relevant to anger. They are addressed in dedicated chapters in both the Theory and Practice sections. Consequently, there is no separate chapter on anger management — the cultivation of these foundational skills constitutes the practice of anger management.

 

REFERENCES

Gilbert, G. M. (1947). Nuremberg diary. Farrar, Straus and Company.

Hatfield, E., Cacioppo, J. T., & Rapson, R. L. (1993). Emotional contagion. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 2(3), 96–100. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-8721.ep10770953

Hatfield, E., Cacioppo, J. T., & Rapson, R. L. (1994). Emotional contagion. Cambridge University Press.

Kharas, H. (2017). The unprecedented expansion of the global middle class: An update (Global Economy and Development Working Paper 100). Brookings Institution. https://www.brookings.edu/research/the-unprecedented-expansion-of-the-global-middle-class-2/

Maier, S. F., & Seligman, M. E. P. (2016). Learned helplessness at fifty: Insights from neuroscience. Psychological Review, 123(4), 349–367. https://doi.org/10.1037/rev0000033

Seligman, M. E. P., & Maier, S. F. (1967). Failure to escape traumatic shock. Journal of Experimental Psychology, 74(1), 1–9. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0024514

Tenzin Gyatso [Dalai Lama XIV]. (n.d.). Compassion and the individual. The Office of His Holiness The Dalai Lama. https://www.dalailama.com/messages/compassion-and-human-values/compassion

Tenzin Gyatso [Dalai Lama XIV]. (1997). Healing anger: The power of patience from a Buddhist perspective (T. Jinpa, Trans.). Snow Lion Publications.

Thich Nhat Hanh. (2001). Anger: Wisdom for cooling the flames. Riverhead Books.

Wright, S. (n.d.). “Depression is nothing more than anger without the enthusiasm” [Quote widely attributed].


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