By Rory Iris Kelly, Newberg Resident
If it feels like society has been stuck on “rage refresh,” you’re not imagining it. Every week brings a new villain, a new boycott, a new headline designed to make us furious. Just as the heat fades, another spark appears.
This isn’t a glitch in the attention economy. It’s the operating system.
Outrage isn’t random. It’s chemistry.
When people feel attacked, their brains release adrenaline and cortisol — stress hormones that sharpen focus and speed reaction. Those hormones keep us clicking, sharing, and arguing longer. Every surge of anger becomes someone else’s profit.
Anger once united people against real threats. Now it’s engineered to divide.
Political strategists, talk shows, and algorithmic feeds learned that emotional polarization keeps people distracted. It’s marketing.
Each outrage cycle replaces community with tribal allegiance. The neighbor across the street stops being “Steve who helped fix my fence” and becomes “Steve who votes wrong.” That’s the quiet erosion of civic trust — the foundation democracy rests on.
When communities lose the ability to work together, power consolidates upward. Division works because it disguises itself as righteousness.
The Mirror Problem
Outrage succeeds by using projection. Carl Jung called it the shadow: the parts of ourselves we refuse to see, then assign to others.
Scroll any comment section:
- People shouting “brainwashed!” while defending their own echo chambers.
- Citizens claiming to defend freedom while cheering censorship of the other side.
When everyone argues with their reflection, the only winners are those selling mirrors.
It’s easier to fight than to listen. But most “opposing sides” aren’t opposites. They’re neighbors with overlapping fears. Parents want their kids to be safe, workers want fair pay, and everyone wants dignity.
Common ground isn’t surrender, but rather it’s remembering we share more problems than at the surface. When empathy becomes strength instead of weakness, communities begin to heal.
Righteous anger feels good, briefly. It delivers a dopamine rush similar to gambling or caffeine. Every “like” reinforces the behavior until morality becomes performance.
And the cure isn’t apathy, but instead discernment. Try this exercise next time. Before reacting, ask:
- Who benefits if I’m angry?
- What real-world action could change this?
- Does this connect or divide my community?
If it leads to empathy, act. If it leads only to noise, close the app and take a walk.
Newberg has seen its share of outrage cycles: school board conflicts, ideological tug-of-wars and Facebook feuds that ended friendships but solved little. The pattern is familiar — the louder the outrage, the quieter the progress.
Somewhere along the way, we forgot that the government answers to us. The outrage cycle is one way systems end up answering for us instead.
Democracy was never meant to be a spectator sport played in comment sections. It was meant to be neighbors at tables, disagreeing without dehumanizing and remembering that power still flows upward from people willing to act.
When we stop letting outrage define us, we can build a community that can’t be baited or bought.
Local Resources for Civil Discourse & Giving Back
- United as Neighbors (Newberg/Dundee) hosts monthly “Community Conversation” groups where residents from different political and social backgrounds meet to talk — not debate.
- Newberg FISH Emergency Service, an all-volunteer food pantry, provides emergency food to local families and offers a direct way to turn concern into service.
If this discussion resonates, consider supporting Newberg FISH. Community change begins when outrage turns into action.
Rory Iris Kelly is a writer in Newberg. They believe awareness is activism, empathy is rebellion, and outrage without integration is noise.
Editor’s Note: This opinion column reflects the views of the author and not necessarily those of Newsberg. We welcome thoughtful, locally focused perspectives that encourage civic engagement and respectful dialogue in our community.
