Anger as a factor in the presidential election

Most of the post-election coverage we have seen began with how unexpected its result was. What happened to the vast polling industry, so sophisticated, so knowledgeable — and so unconnected to voters in the Rust Belt states of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan and Wisconsin? That was my reaction on Election Day from midnight on. I have seen explanations about how it was not really that far off, about how Trump voters declined to admit their choice when polled, about how white women voters rejected Clinton because she refused to throw out her philandering husband after Monica. But one reason hit home locally: when people are angry but have very few ways of bringing that anger to higher-ups, they will use whatever remote and distant means available, even if it hurts them.

Enough people in those states were convinced they were being excluded from the prosperity and the elitism they saw states south of them enjoying. The mechanism at work was the same one in our diocese starting in 2008 when we merged parishes: the House of Charity suffered.

Personal disclosure: I publicly defended the bishop, Joseph Galante, in daily newspapers, and for that he publicly thanked me. I got my share of laity abuse but I understood that if there are not enough priests, the only alternative for any bishop is to consolidate parishes. This is what bishops worldwide are doing, reluctantly. This diocese unquestionably does not have enough, and the demography is simple: just count how many we have, factor in their ages, look at how few are in seminary training, consider the accents of foreign priests, and expect an older clergy to slow down for physical and mental reasons. However, as a pastor of a merged parish, I expressed my disagreement to the bishop with that particular merger, explaining how the church for which we had collected considerable money now could not be built. Mergers also meant that when you go from 124 parishes to 65, many pastors would no longer have that position. I was one such.

Diocesan officials knew from the experience of other dioceses that parishioners would be angry. It would not be enough to hear that faithful members had grandparents who devoted themselves for decades to a parish up for merging. Every parish could claim that. It would not be enough to present the numbers, although the bishop and his aides traveled widely doing this. And it certainly would not be enough — much less prudent — to challenge the objectors to present their sons for the priesthood to solve the shortage problem. Unlike doctors, lawyers and other professions that see the children choosing the vocation of the lawyer father or doctor mother, priests do not have sons.

So the House of Charity took it in the neck. This was unfortunate since it helps thousands of people, only some of whom are Catholic all throughout South Jersey, with predictable multimillion dollar generosity. It made little difference that the innocent would and did suffer. The many recipients of this successful and familiar annual appeal were not responsible for the cause of the anger. Yet since there was little way of objecting except perhaps for a letter to the bishop or to the daily paper, objectors took to the only means they knew would draw attention. This is because the entire exercise was loaded with emotion, something that dominates rational people in ways they might not understand or realize.

Anger is a powerful emotion, so to me it is not a surprise that angry contributors to a charity or voters in a presidential election would use a powerful means at their disposal, perhaps the only one.