17. 为什么每个人都觉得自己是受害者？

The core mechanism: sociologists like Bradley Campbell propose that the moral logic a society uses to handle conflict has undergone three transformations, and we are in the third, increasingly popular phase.

The key insight: moral meaning has become more important than honor and dignity themselves — 'victim' has become the identity label with the most moral capital.

A typical scene: online arguments no longer debate who is more right, but argue over who was harmed more and who is worse off.

In the author's own words: victimhood culture keeps honor culture's sensitivity to humiliation while inheriting dignity culture's reliance on third-party impartial judgment.

'Mo' comes from fan communities, meaning to make a character fragile and pitiable to win affection. When it evolves into 'self-mo,' it points to the grievance of 'not being treated fairly' in social interaction — a feeling that needs to be understood, cherished, and seen.

A quote: 'If I got beaten up, I would actually hope people could see the bruises on my face and body, and then cherish me and treat me gently.'

What it means: in real life you know the other person's history and life experience, so communication has a foundation of consensus; online, the two sides are blank to each other, and the only consensus they can offer is often shared trauma.

The key insight: trauma becomes the corpus for mutual understanding and the lowest-cost form of mutual confirmation — 'you've been hurt this way too, so we see each other.'

How to use it: in an online argument, be aware that the other side may be explaining themselves through a trauma narrative rather than pure logical attack.

In the author's own words: when we long for genuine communication, the dialogue is built on a trauma consensus such as 'we were all treated this way by our original families.'

The reason: the victim identity is the fastest and lowest-cost way to express 'who I am' and 'what I long for,' and it lets like-minded people cluster together to comfort each other.

The solution: distinguish 'seeking understanding' from 'competing for the moral high ground' — the former can bring growth, while the latter often sinks into a cycle of competitive suffering.

Virtuous victimhood: you need not only to suffer but to be a 'good person' — the beautiful, strong, and tragic is so addictive because beauty and strength prove you deserve help. Supporting the beautiful-suffering is essentially compensating for your own desire to be treated fairly.

The competitive side: when accused of harming others, the first reaction is often not an apology but declaring 'I'm the real victim' or 'I've suffered more than you.'

Related concepts: moral dualism (the doer versus the sufferer), moral zero-sum games, and the dissolving of collective guilt.

Competing for the victim identity reduces the guilt of 'I harmed someone,' reclaims the moral high ground, and cancels the other's moral claim — 'because I'm also a victim, I owe you nothing.'

The boundary: this doesn't cover the real harm suffered by structurally disadvantaged groups; the reflection targets privileged groups' 'reverse victim' performances in public opinion and mutual suffering-comparing within relationships.

A quote: 'Being morally clean, being a good person, owing no one anything — this psychological state matters more than almost any other safety attribute.'

The core mechanism: two reigning schools of thought give incompatible explanations of suffering — one attributes all pain to external structures ('I'm a structural victim'), the other personalizes all suffering ('everything happens for my benefit; you must take responsibility').

The key insight: both are rising equally, which reflects that whatever the framework, we urgently need our suffering to be seen and clearly explained — otherwise we cannot continue living.

In the author's own words: the popularity of victim narratives isn't just an individual psychological phenomenon, but the result of an era's incentive structure that grants the victim identity the highest moral authority.

Works like 'Fang Siqi's First Love Paradise' write about structural victimization not to keep women in the weak position, but because a civilized society must first protect the sensitivity and visibility of harm for those who are still vulnerable.

The judgment standard: not 'does it immediately change reality,' but 'after seeing the pain clearly, can it give you the strength to keep moving forward.'

How to apply it: offer seeing and help to the structurally weak; for yourself, ask — is this expression the beginning of defensiveness, or the completion of understanding?

What it means: being overly sensitive to others' words and habitually answering with 'I'm the bigger victim' is essentially the incomplete state of an individual whose subjectivity hasn't been established — a stress response in an unsafe environment.

The key insight: worshiping strength and competing in suffering aren't contradictory — both use identity (the strong or the virtuous victim) to demand being seen and recognized, rather than being about true strength or weakness.

How to check yourself: are you 'controlling' the relationship (defensiveness) or 'understanding' yourself (growth)?

Related concepts: Jungian individuation, agency, control versus understanding, and expression-as-completion versus desire-gratification.

Why it matters: if telling your trauma exists only to extract compensation from outside and fill a huge insecurity, it's a deformed defense — and it will never win the real recognition you want.

The boundary: for people still in structural harm, being seen comes first; this mindset applies to contexts where you already have some sense of security and can reflect on yourself.