We’re tired, as a country, of being morally affronted

Polling well: Anthony Albanese. Picture: Sam Ruttyn

Most humans have an impulse to be good, to do good, and when there’s a tear in the moral fabric of our existence it’s keenly felt. We heard recently of the castration of a Ukrainian soldier by Russian invaders, in the wider picture of a war of extreme barbarity; an invasion of a sovereign nation that demonstrates a shocking impoverishment of the human spirit. The childlike equation – I want, therefore I shall have – without any respect for the laws of ownership, of dignity or civility, is an affront to humankind; to all of us, as a collective. The thrust of the demand – Putin wants, therefore he shall have – has left the world reeling from a sense of moral injury that’s been inflicted upon us all.

That term “moral injury” was coined by US psychiatrist Jonathan Shay, who spent years examining traumatic wartime experiences of Vietnam veterans through the prism of Homer’s epic narratives the Iliad and the Odyssey. Shay wrote that a sense of moral injury could be triggered when there had been “a betrayal of what is morally correct by someone who holds legitimate authority in a high-stakes situation”. A perception of state-sanctioned injustice goes against the moral order of society, what we perceive of as “right” and can result in feelings of bewilderment, anxiety, vulnerability and rage.

Outside the realm of war, a sense of moral outrage over the actions of those in authority has fuelled anger, again and again, in the recent past. We have seen repeated examples of moral injustice inflicted by those in power upon the powerless, and the result of this slippage has been frustration and fury from a flinching populace. The moral indignity of Donald Trump doing nothing while his supporters trashed the Capitol. The moral outrage of Boris Johnson blithely partying with colleagues while his country was placed under strict Covid lockdowns. Of Pauline Hanson’s performative stunt where she played up to her base by storming out of parliament during an Acknowledgement of Country; words that are a small gesture of politeness and balm to a nation’s conflicted soul. The moral outrage induced by oppositional forces wilfully obstructing or muddying the waters over an Indigenous Voice to Parliament, which, as our Prime Minister recently declared, is “a hand outstretched, a moving show of faith in Australian decency and Australian fairness”.

As we’ve seen throughout history, a collective frustration over a sense of moral injustice is a potent force at the ballot box. The Opposition seems stuck in the stale ways of politicking from the recent past, a state of play that riffs on division and fear. But the polls are suggesting that a majority of Australians are ready for a kinder, calmer, more cohesive nation; that we’re tired, as a country, of being morally affronted. It feels like a new word has entered our federal politics recently, one that has felt sorely absent for so long: decency. Our nation is undergoing a quietly powerful reset – can you feel it? Does it anger you, or exhilarate?

Decency quietens and calms us. It feels like a force that doesn’t draw attention to itself, but the nation is responding. According to a recent Newspoll, Anthony Albanese has the highest satisfaction rating for an incoming prime minister since Newspoll began in 1985, at 61 per cent. As preferred prime minister he has a 59-25 lead over Peter Dutton.

I would say a perception of decency is playing a part in all this. Many of us are no longer flinching from a sense of moral outrage over what our country had become. And moral indignity can work in reverse – healing is a powerful force, albeit much quieter. I’d argue that our nation is going through a corrective sense of recalibration right now – and the polls are bearing this out.