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LOADINGERROR LOADING When the Trump administration declined to tap into contingency funds that could have kept food assistance going during the government shutdown, the justification that leaders offered was a claim of powerlessness. “There’s no legal mechanism to do it,” House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) told reporters. “My understanding is that the administration made the assessment that those funds could not be used for this purpose,” said Rep. John Rose (R-Tenn.) on CNN. Advertisement As families across the country worried about how they’d put food on the table, leaders portrayed the harm as beyond their control. But such claims stand in contrast to legal experts’ analysis, to the president’s actions during the last government shutdown, and to an earlier memo from Donald Trump’s U.S. Department of Agriculture that suggested the government could in fact keep funding the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, in the event of another impasse. Now two federal judges have ruled that the administration cannot continue to withhold food benefits from the 42 million Americans who rely on this social safety net to afford groceries each month. Advertisement Put simply, the folks in charge do indeed seem to have the power they claim they do not. When people or institutions cause harm, they might rush to insist that their hands were tied, that the situation was out of their control, that they’re just following the rules ― whether or not that’s actually true. It’s all an attempt to maintain a sense of moral or procedural purity in the face of the damage they’ve wrought. And there’s a term that captures this very phenomenon: violent innocence. “Violent innocence is a term that posits that a person or institution can cause significant harm while remaining morally ambiguous and/or seemingly ‘unaware’ that they are causing it,” Alexandra Cromer, a licensed therapist with Thriveworks, told HuffPost. The concept was primarily outlined in a book by psychoanalyst Christopher Bollas, who referred to it as an aggressive “form of denial.” Advertisement “The violent innocent sponsors affective and ideational confusion in the other, which he then disavows any knowledge of ― this being the true violation,” he wrote, noting how people who engage in this behavior sow confusion and isolation. Cromer describes this mindset as sort of a willful ignorance. “It means that an institution or person is maintaining a level of unawareness to protect or preserve their belief that they are not harmful and do not cause active harm,” she said. Advertisement In this sense, violent innocence is a cognitive mechanism that people wield in order to defend their self-image against the reality of the damage and pain they’re causing. “Violent innocence can be dangerous because it posits that growth is not an ongoing process of gaining consciousness awareness,” Cromer noted. This harmful dynamic shows up in personal relationships when conflicts lead to defenses like, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, so you shouldn’t be upset.” But perhaps the most potent examples of violent innocence involve national politics, where the harm is particularly serious and widespread. Advertisement When leaders choose not to release contingency or emergency funds to maintain SNAP benefits during a government shutdown ― and then claim their hands are tied ― that’s a form of violent innocence. The insistence on purity or procedure functions as a moral shield, obscuring the real-world consequences of inaction. Families go without food assistance, yet decision-makers frame their choice as unavoidable. The lens of violent innocence highlights these kinds of events as an insidious performance of righteousness or helplessness when confronted with the suffering they’re actively enabling. There’s a refusal to see one’s own power or responsibility. By insisting “we can’t do anything,” lawmakers disown their agency, making the harm appear inevitable when there are actual political choices involved. Thus, the innocence becomes the mechanism of the violence. Advertisement “People or institutions might insist on their own innocence despite being given information that their decisions or inaction cause harm due to a desire to protect or preserve their view of self,” Cromer said. “Receiving feedback and a request for change is hard, but it is necessary.” By clinging to the story of their own goodness or helplessness, individuals and institutions can sidestep accountability ― and in doing so, perpetuate the very harm they deny. “For some, being made aware of hurt caused requires them to take active remedial steps,” Cromer said. “Many institutions and people have a hard time with this insight due to the fact that many view ‘mistakes’ as ‘permanent.’ In some instances, the people or institutions do believe that they are actually innocent and have not caused any harm, despite contrary feedback.” Advertisement Cromer emphasized that healthy, adaptive people and institutions view feedback, education and awareness as constants, just like change. It’s all part of the ongoing process of growth, which is not a threat to their identity. “The first step toward real accountability is an openness and awareness that being receptive to feedback ― even feedback you disagree with ― is a requirement for health,” Cromer said. Active listening and note-taking on the feedback you receive and harm that you caused is key. “While you can’t change the past, you’re being asked to modify your behavior to prevent future harm,” Cromer said. “Create an action plan that specifically targets these behaviors and identifies both direct and indirect expressions of each. Lastly, educate yourself in the areas that you need to grow in.”
