On February 15, 1978, a relatively unknown boxer with few professional fights, stepped into the Las

O Schadenfreude On February 15, 1978, a relatively unknown boxer with few professional fights, stepped into the Las Vegas boxing ring and snatched the world heavyweight champion title from Muhammad Ali. Ah, along with his entourage of managers, coaches and fans were shocked, though no one denied that he lost. The unknown boxer was Leon Spinks. His only prior claim to fame, and ticket to a shot at Ali, was an Olympic gold medal two years earlier. With this win, not only did Spinks enjoy the heavyweight belt of champions, but a cash prize of $350,000 and a promise of $3.8 million for the rematch with Ali. But this meteoric rise to the top fizzled into a meteoric crash, driven by women, alcohol, sports cars, and a lack of training. Leon Spinks, aka “Neon Leon,” was living the fast life, and rapidly losing his status as a respected sports hero. Moments before his rematch with Ali, he cruised the streets of New Orleans on top of a limousine while smoking a joint. He was flaunting his nonchalance, making fun of Ali’s age, and carrying on about his ability to take the old champ without a single work out. When he entered the ring, Ali was ready. Though the match went the full fifteen rounds, it was no contest. Ali won. Newspaper writers and boxing fans celebrated the return of their champion, and mocked the downfall of an ephemeral, arrogant, and out of control hero. After losing to Ali in the rematch, Neon Leon crashed further, losing all of his earnings, taking on odd jobs for minimum wage, losing a son in a gang fight, and suffering defeat after defeat in the boxing arena. From envied millionaire sports star to bankrupt fool and the laughingstock of the boxing world. When the envied fall down, we perversely enjoy the knock out. This is schadenfreude, a German word that describes the joy we feel in witnessing another’s misfortune. Though the emotion is universally understood, recognized in our written records at least as far back as Aristotle, the German language is one of the few to capture the feeling by tapping the brain’s promiscuity, combining the word for harm (schaden) with the word for joy (freude). Like envy, schadenfreude is a social, comparative emotion. It erupts when those we envy fall down, when someone we dislike meets his comeuppance, and when a misfortune is deserved. But like envy, schadenfreude presents two faces, one elevating and virtuous, the other deflating and divisive. We should feel good when a person is caught crossing a moral line, committing an injustice. Such feelings not only reinforce our own adherence to moral norms, but encourage us to punish those who transgress. Such feelings instill courage in the service of expressing moral outrage. As Robert F. Kennedy stated “Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or intelligence.” Schadenfreude in this positive sense is the inner voice of moral courage. At the same time, it can also be the inner voice of moral disengagement, providing justification for an observed harm. Hauser Chapter 2. Runaway desire 73 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_012819