Anger: The Political Paradox of Our Time

Very early in my career I had the good fortune to work for a global American insurance company founded on the philosophy of success and positive thinking.

At the time I was young, ambitious and often prone to reacting emotionally rather than examining the root cause of a problem. Seeing potential in me, the CEO took me under his wing. One day he handed me a card and told me to carry it with me always.

It read:

“Direct your thoughts, control your emotions and ordain your destiny.”

It remains one of the wisest pieces of advice I’ve ever received, and I still find myself reflecting on it today.

For that reason, I now spend a great deal of time researching, analysing and questioning before forming opinions or making decisions. Not always successfully, admittedly, but I try. And it is this habit that brings me to what I see as one of the great political paradoxes of our time.

We read almost daily about rage reshaping the political landscape in Australia. Political commentators tell us voters are angry. Polls tell us voters are frustrated. Social media provides a constant stream of evidence that many Australians feel let down by governments, institutions and political parties.

But I question whether anger is the wisest basis upon which to make decisions about our future.

Anger, like hatred, clouds judgement. It encourages knee-jerk reactions rather than careful thought. While anger can identify genuine problems that deserve attention, it is a poor substitute for evidence, scrutiny and reasoned decision-making.

Voters are angry with governments, both present and past, for problems that seem increasingly difficult to solve. Yet governments only exist because voters put them there. The contradiction is fascinating.

Perhaps the anger is not directed at any particular government at all. Perhaps it reflects a broader frustration with institutions, political parties and a system that many feel no longer delivers what it once promised.

Perhaps, in some cases, it also reflects a frustration with ourselves.

Democracy places citizens in a unique position. We are not merely spectators observing events from the sidelines; we are participants in the process. We help choose the governments we later criticise. When the same problems persist regardless of who occupies the Treasury benches, some of the anger may stem from the uncomfortable realisation that there are no easy fixes and no perfect political choices.

It is often easier to direct our frustration outward than to acknowledge that, collectively, we may have contributed to outcomes we now dislike. That does not mean voters are to blame for every problem a nation faces. But it does mean we share some responsibility for the political culture we create, the incentives we reward and the representatives we elect.

In that environment, politicians who position themselves as permanent outsiders can thrive. They are rarely blamed for the failures of the system because their supporters see them as standing apart from it, even when they have spent years operating within it.

Anger is a valuable political alarm bell. It tells us something is wrong. But it becomes dangerous when voters stop treating it as a warning signal and start treating it as a governing philosophy.

The politicians who benefit most from anger are often those least burdened by having to demonstrate that their solutions will actually work.

Research in psychology has long established a connection between emotions and decision-making. Anger, in particular, has been shown to increase impulsiveness and risk-taking behaviour. While voting is obviously different from making financial or personal decisions, the principle remains relevant. Political decisions shape governments, public policy and ultimately our lives.

The effects of anger can also linger long after the event that triggered it. Even when we believe we have calmed down, the emotional residue can continue to influence how we process information and assess risk.

That matters because we now live in an age of constant stimulation. Twenty-four-hour news cycles, social media platforms and partisan commentary ensure that outrage is never in short supply.

Which raises an uncomfortable question.

Are voters adequately scrutinising the claims of politicians who position themselves as champions of the aggrieved?

The evidence suggests many are not.

A brief scroll through social media reveals countless examples of political claims being shared thousands of times without verification. Assertions that align with existing frustrations are often accepted at face value, while contradictory evidence is dismissed, ignored or attacked.

The standard of proof seems to change depending on whether a claim supports our preferred narrative.

This is not unique to any one side of politics. It is a human tendency. We are naturally inclined to seek information that confirms what we already believe while rejecting information that challenges it.

But social media has amplified this tendency.

Social media platforms reward engagement, not accuracy. Anger, outrage and conflict generate clicks, comments and shares. The more provocative the content, the greater its reach. Politicians understand this. So do media organisations competing for attention in an increasingly crowded marketplace.

The result is a feedback loop.

Politicians amplify grievances. Social media rewards the most emotionally charged messages. Partisan media outlets reinforce them. Audiences consume content that validates their existing views and become increasingly convinced that anyone who disagrees is either uninformed, dishonest or acting in bad faith.

This is where healthy political passion can begin to evolve into something more tribal.

Political tribes have always existed, but modern technology has strengthened them in ways previous generations never experienced. Many people now inhabit information bubbles where they rarely encounter competing viewpoints except in distorted or caricatured form.

Opponents become enemies. Scepticism is reserved for outsiders while allies are given the benefit of the doubt.

At its extreme, this can resemble cult-like behaviour. Not because people are unintelligent, but because loyalty to the group becomes more important than evaluating the evidence.

Facts that support the tribe are embraced. Facts that challenge it are rejected.

The irony is that some of the angriest voters are often demanding accountability from government while simultaneously giving a free pass to the politicians who claim to represent their frustrations.

Democracy functions best when citizens apply the same level of scrutiny to those they support as they do to those they oppose.

The moment we stop asking hard questions of our own side is the moment we stop being citizens and start becoming followers.

Anger can identify a problem.

It cannot, by itself, solve one.

The challenge facing Australia is not whether voters are angry. The challenge is whether we can move beyond anger long enough to critically examine who is profiting from it, who is amplifying it, and whether the solutions being offered can withstand the same scrutiny we demand of everyone else

The Difference Between Being Angry and Being Strategic

I never thought the day would come when I would write this, but after reading the Newspoll published last night, I’ve reached a conclusion that would have surprised me a few years ago.

The core Labor voter appears to be politically smarter than much of the Australian right.

Not smarter because they vote Labor. In my view, voting Labor is no guarantee of wisdom. Rather, they seem to have a better understanding of political strategy and how political power is won and maintained.

Labor supporters are not tearing their own party apart. Yet that is exactly what much of the conservative side of politics is doing. Liberal and National voters are abandoning their traditional parties in significant numbers and shifting towards One Nation. Whether you support that move or not, the result is the same: the Coalition is being weakened from within.

What makes this particularly remarkable is that it is happening while Labor is in government. Historically, oppositions gain ground when governments become unpopular. Yet Australia is witnessing something very different. The political energy that might once have been directed at defeating Labor is instead being channelled into internal battles on the right.

During the 2022 and 2025 election campaigns we saw the growing influence of grievance politics and the repeated application of what psychologists call the illusory truth effect — the tendency for people to believe claims simply because they hear them repeated often enough. Anger became a political product. Complex problems were reduced to simple slogans. Blame became more important than solutions.

The consequence is that many voters now appear more interested in expressing frustration than building a viable alternative government.

Of course, many who support One Nation have traditionally dismissed polling when the results did not favour them. It will be interesting to see whether the same scepticism applies when the numbers are positive. As I’ve always argued, polls are neither prophecy nor conspiracy. They are simply snapshots in time, offering a glimpse into the mood of the electorate.

I still hope the current trend proves temporary. I hope voters ultimately place greater value on competence, governing ability and credible opposition than on outrage and protest. I hope decisions are based more on evidence than emotion.

But if recent years have taught us anything, it is that anger is a powerful political force. And once a political movement becomes primarily driven by grievance, it can be extraordinarily difficult to persuade its supporters that the movement itself may be contributing to the very problems they claim to oppose.

That is why these Newspoll results concern me. Not because One Nation is polling well, but because they suggest a growing number of Australians may be prioritising protest over practical politics.

THE POLITICS OF GRIEVANCE

One of the easiest jobs in politics is being a mouthpiece for the aggrieved

Find something people are angry about. Tell them their anger is justified. Promise to fix it. Then repeat back whatever grievance your audience already believes.

It’s a low-risk strategy, particularly when you’re speaking to a tribe that rarely questions whether the promises are realistic, affordable or even possible.

The elections of 2022 and 2025 demonstrated how powerful grievance politics has become. Voters across the political spectrum increasingly reward politicians who offer certainty, simple answers and someone to blame.

This tendency is not unique to any one party or ideology. The temptation to mobilise anger rather than solve problems exists across the political spectrum. But wherever it appears, it carries the same risk: reducing complex issues to slogans, scapegoats and impossible promises.

The danger is that we appear to be heading further down that path. If current trends continue, the politics of 2028 may be even more dominated by outrage, simplistic narratives and promises that cannot realistically be delivered.

What is far harder is addressing the underlying causes of people’s frustrations. Harder still is explaining that complex problems rarely have simple solutions, that government has limits, and that not every demand can be met without trade-offs.

Anyone can promise everything. Governing requires choosing between competing priorities, accepting constraints and being honest about what can actually be delivered.

Yet despite these realities, grievance politics continues to flourish. The rise of One Nation in the polls suggests it remains a powerful force in Australian politics.

But politicians alone cannot explain its success. Demand matters as much as supply. Why are so many people drawn to movements built around opposition, resentment and anger?

Some political actors undoubtedly recognise that outrage attracts attention. A grievance can become a headline. A headline can become a movement. Social media rewards conflict, algorithms amplify outrage, and audiences are often more engaged by anger than nuance.

For some, grievance becomes a pathway to influence, followers, donations, votes or power. Whether consciously or unconsciously, there is an incentive to keep audiences angry, because anger is highly effective at holding attention.

But the appeal of grievance politics runs deeper than political strategy.

Grievance politics offers coherence, energy and a sense of belonging. It provides simple explanations for complex problems and clear villains on whom responsibility can be placed. The psychological rewards are real.

The problem is that when identity becomes built around opposition, it becomes dependent on conflict. When one grievance is addressed, another must be found. When one enemy disappears, another must be identified. The movement cannot rest because its sense of purpose depends upon the existence of something to oppose.

Social media intensifies this dynamic. People can become so immersed in a constant stream of outrage that they rarely stop to question the claims being presented to them. Information is filtered through tribal loyalties, reinforcing existing beliefs and making critical examination less likely.

The deeper challenge, then, is not simply rebutting claims or defeating particular parties at the ballot box. It is rebuilding a political culture that can provide meaning, identity and solidarity without requiring an endless supply of enemies.

Because grievance politics is easy. It demands no trade-offs, no difficult conversations and no accountability for outcomes. It only requires a new target whenever the old one loses its usefulness.

That is why it flourishes.

And that is why it is so dangerous.