Fred Phelp's recent death deserves a few observations and reflection.
As Adolf Hitler started out as a
landscape artist and then became one of the perpetrators of the worst crimes against humanity in the 20th century, so too did Phelps start out as a civil rights lawyer who fought against Jim Crow laws in Topeka in the 1960s, despite violent acts towards his family's security, only to end his life by becoming one of the loudest proponents of malicious protest.
Why is it that certain individuals begin their lives by committing an endeavor that demonstrates reverence for the human condition and irreconcilably end their lives with a series of anti-humanist actions?
Is that question more profound than when we consider an individual who spent their earlier years as a transgressor, then devoted their life to the benefit of the human condition? Why is it so much more inconceivable to us that an artist can commit genocide and one who works to promote the well-being of a disenfranchised group turn around to vomit the worst sort of bile at others?
If not more profound, it it certainly more mysterious. Little wonder an alcoholic re-considers the damages of drunkenness to commit themselves to reconciliation and put effort into more honorable pursuits. But it is downright confounding when an artist turns to genocide and an activist to free-floating hatred.
Isn't it? Not entirely.
I submit - and realize there may be some holes in this - but, at some point in their early lives, these human beings committed too much of their own happiness to their works.
One of the few things human beings have control over is their moods. Despite a barrage of arms-fire or the consequences of starvation, human beings have still recalled something simple - a bird-call, a smile, maybe, that in those desperate times resulted in their happiness, however briefly. But even though we are all responsible for our own interior climate, it is rare that any of us can commit to and achieve that degree of self-control.
Remember, too, that there is no absolute altruism. Or, it is so rare, that it can only be applied in extremely specific cases. Most of us give because we expect to receive - not necessarily an exchange of gifts, but perhaps we toss our coins into the charity jar with the intention of feeling good about ourselves.
But for the most part, society ebbs and flows within specified parameters of give-and-take, without excelling at altruism nor committing to hatred. It is interesting and rare to find those who deviate in either direction, and worth commenting on in terms of human tendency.
Though seemingly (and perhaps even sincerely, in part) for the greater good, whether that be artistic expression or objection to injustice, Hitler and Phelps simply attached too much of themselves to their endeavors. What started out as sincere at some point became a too-powerful extension of themselves conditional on approval. Unable to differentiate between self and pursuit, and lacking recognition for achievement by society - thereby achieving happiness - the only way to correct for the deficiency was to criminalize those who did not bestow upon them the recognition they believed they deserved. If this didn't result in happiness, perhaps the impetus was satisfaction in revenge.
There are comments to be made, perhaps if parts of Hitler and Phelp's lives are examine more specifically. This is merely the confluence of a curiosity about what turns inspired endeavors into hateful people and the engaging
Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi.
A final thought, though. We all seem to depend, in some way or another, on the positive opinions and recognition of others. When we receive it, we are satisfied for a while. When we don't, we are disheartened, angry, or sad. Taking into consideration the extreme consequences of such behavior, perhaps it would be better if we dedicate some mental activity over controlling our happiness.
