In Chapter 4, I explore another way in which morality functions to serve psychological protective functions: the will to “self-tormenting” (GM II 22). By attending to this inwardly directed form of “self-ravishment” (GM II 18), I conceive of the protective, defensive functions of morality thus: To stave off, moderate, disavow, or dissociate a painful affect that is “becoming unendurable” – for instance, helplessness, impotence, “depression, heaviness, [or] weariness” – one turns to oneself as the “sole cause of [such] suffering” (GM III 20). Such self-recriminations thereby: (1) drive “out of consciousness at least for the moment” the painful feeling (GM III 17) and (2) restore a sense of efficacy, a sense of power (GM III 15). After distinguishing between two prominent ways in which such cruelty turned inward may be felt – namely, through guilt and shame – I argue it is shame that plays an underdeveloped and underappreciated role in the Second Essay. In this evaluative framework, our shame, that familiar form of self-reproach, is shown to serve psychological protective functions as it renders us ever more obscure to ourselves.

Atonement is a critical component of the cultic system described in Leviticus 1–7 and 16. Purification of sin and thanksgiving offerings shape the worship of Israel. This chapter describes the theology of sacrifice and atonement in Leviticus, the specific offerings, and how atonement has been interpreted by later commentators.

Describe how children develop fairness, spite, and helping behaviours; understand the role of emotions, punishment, and reputation in moral development; explore cross-cultural differences and similarities in morality.

This chapter pursues the idea of a moral psychology of guilt promoted by Bernard Williams and Herbert Morris in their opposition to orthodox political and normative views. It follows Williams’s view that modern liberal society involves a ‘peculiar’ political morality of voluntary responsibility and his underdeveloped line that a naturalistic understanding of ‘psychological materials’ like anger, fear and love is needed. It notes his recognition of the psychological role of the internalised other in human guilt. It pursues Morris’s philosophical account of guilt as involving psychological feeling: ‘rotten, depleted of energy, and tense’ (Morris 1976: 99). It notes the importance of ‘atonement’ and identification with another in his account, the former involving being ‘at one with’ oneself. It identifies the reaction he notes to deep-seated psychological problems and cycles of violence as ‘quantum guilt’. Williams and Morris push philosophy beyond itself to the brink of a new psychological understanding. Following Jonathan Lear, the moral psychology they initiate renders psychoanalysis part of a broader conception of philosophy in line with its original Greek self-understanding. It gives the ancient Socratic principle that we should know ourselves a modern post-Freudian twist.

The chapter’s first section develops the book’s underlying argument that the moral psychology of violation involves synthesising metaphysical expression and its metapsychological grounds. Its second section engages with Martha Nussbaum’s argument in Anger and Forgiveness (2016) that we should understand guilt and forgiveness without reference to metapsychology, and only in terms of unconditional love leading to eudaimonic social ‘Transition’. Against this, I argue that guilt and forgiveness remain morally important and we see this in the parable of the prodigal son. Where Nussbaum argues that the father’s unconditional love sets aside questions of forgiveness, I suggest that such moral questions between a father and son remain at stake. A third section offers a ‘case study’ of guilt and forgiveness in the dialogue between Jo Berry, whose father died in the IRA Brighton bombing of 1984, and Patrick Magee, one of the bombers. This shows how difficult moral dialogues around blame, guilt and forgiveness are central to reconciliation, though this may be blocked by surrounding unresolved social and political questions. Overall, connecting metaphysics and metapsychology enables us to see why moral transactions (distinguished from legal ones) and social transitions are both necessary for reconciliation.

An ongoing structural problem for the normative political theory of punishment concerns the question of ‘just deserts in an unjust society’, explored here as the question of the guilt of the victim who victimises another. While political theory cannot justify punishment in such circumstances, the possibility of a moral and psychological sense of guilt still exists. This chapter juxtaposes liberal theory’s impasse with a moral psychology of guilt drawn from the psychoanalytic perspectives of Melanie Klein and Jessica Benjamin. Based on complex love and reparation, this account of guilt is an important way of understanding what is at stake in human violation. Classical political views of the impasse are explored in Kant and Hegel, while Antony Duff’s theory of punishment as communication is seen as seeking to go beyond these but remaining constrained by them. Klein’s account of guilt as a reparative emotion is linked to Benjamin’s ideas of the ‘doer’ and the ‘done to’ and the possibility of reconciliation through recognition. This deeper sense of guilt cannot cure the problem in political theory but shows how an alternative moral psychology of guilt is available even where such theory is exhausted.

Taking Herbert Morris’s ethical concepts of guilt, identification, responsibility and atonement as ‘at-one-ment’, this chapter explores their metapsychological basis and somatic link to feeling ‘rotten, depleted of energy, and tense’ (Morris 1976: 99). Exploring Freud’s metapsychology in Civilization and Its Discontents (1985), two conflicting routes to guilt are noted. The more prominent involves internalisation of external anger to suppress destructive instincts. The better but less developed emphasises loving identification with others in the process of ego and superego formation of the self. This second route is in line with Freud’s later structural theory as developed by Hans Loewald and Jonathan Lear. Following Loewald, the moral psychology of self-formation makes loving identification the root of responsibility, guilt and atonement as at-one-ment. The superego is an ‘atonement structure’ that is reconciliative, and this links psychoanalysis to Morris’s metaphysics of atonement. The analysis is developed to include ‘prospective identification’, moral and psychological guilt for the violation of a stranger. Emotional disturbance at killing another with whom one could identify is explored and a comparison made with Raskolnikov’s guilt in Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. A closing section links this chapter to the previous, cementing the metaphysical and metapsychological dimensions of guilt in an expanded understanding of philosophy as both Greek and modern.

Modern theory of punishment generally conflates two questions. The first concerns the justification of state punishment, the second the moral–psychological damage that occurs when a person is violated. The first leads to political theory and a legally based account of wrongdoing and punishment. The second considers the moral–psychological nature of violation, grief and reconciliation. Hegel’s early theological writings provide a critical vantage point from which to view law and the dominant liberal theory of punishment, including his own ‘mature’ position as a founder of modern retributivism. Based on a metaphysics of love, he develops there his account of a perpetrator’s guilt and how a victim might deal with violation, finding a common ground in the grief both may feel. This early metaphysical ethics contrasts with the Philosophy of Right’s later rational, retributive, metaphysics of punishment. The chapter considers critically Axel Honneth’s approach and suggests that the early theological writings are worthy of more consideration than they are often given. This early work might be more mature in psychological terms than Hegel’s later legal and political theory, providing the basis for a critique of that theory that is ethically real and institutionally critical. This is a prototypical ERIC critique pointing towards penal abolition.

Though a moral psychology of guilt and taking responsibility is central to moving beyond violation, we must also understand denial as a moral psychological phenomenon. This may be straightforwardly ethical in its form or may disclose an underlying metapsychology of what Freud called disavowal. This chapter considers Stanley Cohen’s investigation of these terms in his pathbreaking States of Denial (2001). Cohen supported but was also deeply ambivalent about Freud’s account. He questioned the relationship between the unconscious and responsibility, the possibility for dissembling and the importance of psychological over sociological determinants of action. I defend an account of psychological denial or disavowal by addressing these concerns. The analysis is then applied to Joshua Oppenheimer’s film The Act of Killing (2014) concerning guilt and denial among perpetrators of the Indonesian genocide (1965-6). At home, these men are treated as celebrities, their actions unquestioned. The opportunity to make a film of their past as they wish challenges denial and brings out guilt feelings which are expressed morally, psychologically and physiologically. The film’s method is viewed as a form of psychoanalytic encounter providing a transitional space (Winnicott) to deal with guilt. It reveals the capacity for guilt even when it is socially denied in an unusual form of transitional justice.

This chapter of the handbook asks whether, and in what ways, emotions can be designated as “moral”. Several emotions have been shown to be associated with moral judgments or moral behaviors. But more than association must be shown if we label some emotions characteristically moral. The author guides the reader through a voluminous literature and applies two criteria to test the moral credentials of emotions. The first criterion is whether the emotion is significantly elicited by moral stimuli; the second is whether it has significant community-benefiting consequences. This second criterion, less often used in past analyses, tries to capture the fact that moral norms, judgments, and decisions are all intended to benefit the community, so moral emotions should too. From this analysis, the author concludes that anger clearly meets the criteria, contempt and disgust less so. Guilt passes easily, and shame fares better than some may expect. Among the positive candidates, compassion and empathy both meet the criteria but are somewhat difficult to separate. Finally, elevation and awe have numerous prosocial consequences, but awe is rarely triggered by moral stimuli.

This chapter focuses on historian Charles Sellers’ argument that by the mid-nineteenth century, many white southerners, influenced by the spirit of American democracy and the values of evangelical Christianity, could never fully embrace the proslavery argument and maintained only a half-hearted commitment to the region’s peculiar institution based on economic necessity and racial fear. Sellers argued that most white southerners experienced moral unease if not full-fledged guilt over how to justify living in a slaveholding society. In Sellers’ view, this “travail of slavery” burdened white southerners throughout the late antebellum period and even beyond emancipation. Subsequent scholarship initially supported Sellers’ argument that white southerners experienced varying measures of guilt over slavery. But during the 1970s, an array of new scholarly studies revealed that most white southerners eagerly defended slavery as a necessary institution and accepted the racial justification for slavery and thus retained a deep commitment to white supremacy.

When we witness another person experiencing pain, be it emotional or physical, we have an empathic reaction. And even if we commit a harmful action against another person, we most of the time experience guilt in the aftermath, which prevents us from performing the same action in the future. Guilt and empathy are critical moral emotions that together usually prevent us from harming others. However, as this chapter shows, systematic processes of classification and dehumanization at play before a genocide can alter moral emotions towards another part of the population. Activity in empathy-related brain regions is generally reduced towards individuals that we consider as outgroup or towards dehumanized individuals. Neuroscience studies have further shown that when obeying orders to hurt another person, neural activity in empathy- and guilt-related brain regions is reduced compared to acting freely. Such results show how obeying orders diminishes our aversion to harming others.

Chapter 4 turns to the watershed moment of Shakespeare’s Hamlet as the great anti-revenge play of its day, which by commenting on Kyd’s design and its diminished capacity for novelty, profoundly changed it. In the process, Shakespeare’s play became itself an ethically vacant theatrical space in the dramatic continuum of the period, which subsequent playwrights responded to viscerally. This chapter argues that Shakespeare introduces into the intra-theatrical ethics of the standard revenge plot a theatrical ethics of ‘marking’ which seeks to translate through spectacle and performance what is merely shown into that which is, in the world, finally marked and bearing the trace of a wound or a scar. In the process, the chapter reflects on Shakespeare’s wider intervention in the dramatic fortunes of Kyd’s dramatic legacy in raising the stakes for audience participation in the action to new levels of guilt and vexed ethical complicity.