


“Man convicted for fatally shooting teen who tried to steal car” was a headline in the recent news. The article brought to light the profound human cost of revenge. According to the report, Orest Schur, a former U.S. Space Force technical sergeant, fatally shot a teen who attempted to steal his wife’s car. His sentence for the crime: 26 to 80 years in prison. Driven by revenge and probably a desire for justice, Schur devastated three lives — his own, the teen who died, and the surviving youth who will carry physical and emotional scars for the rest of his life.
Consider the catastrophic consequences when revenge drives polarized groups or nations against each other. Witness how innocent surrogates of the group or nation that one opposes are caught in the brutal urge to get even. We see this in the wars raging between Gaza and Israel, Ukraine and Russia, Israel and Iran, and even here on Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall. Ultimately, actions triggered by revenge yield outcomes that are irreversible and devastating.
James Kimmel, of Yale University’s School of Medicine argues that the desire for revenge functions like an addiction. Kimmel believes that everybody has the capacity to pursue vengeful behaviors. It’s built into our DNA from prehistoric times. But some people act on the drive, while others don’t. Why?
What activates revenge? At the international level, the desire for vengeance may come into play when people witness an enemy attack their country, their culture, their way of life. Individuals may desire revenge when they feel someone is assaulting their ego, self-image, identity or when they see someone wantonly damaging or stealing their property. And then there is the mistaken belief that the Bible promotes the idea of revenge, when we read “an eye for an eye,” in Exodus 21:24, Leviticus 24:20, and Deuteronomy 19:21. The biblical intent is actually to ensure punishment proportional to a crime.
Kimmel maintains that there is a neuroscientific basis for revenge. PET scans show that brains on revenge and brains on drugs look very much the same. As with drug addicts, where the sight of drug paraphernalia or places of drug use, trigger the craving for narcotics, individuals experiencing real or imagined grievances may crave revenge. In both cases, the urges revealed activation of the nucleus accumbens, the part of the brain associated with pleasure and craving. Feelings or experiences that trigger a desire for revenge activate the brain’s “pain network.” The act of getting revenge then releases dopamine, a brain hormone that produces a sense of pleasure, thereby restoring a sense of control or equilibrium. But here’s the catch. The initial surge of pleasure produced by the dopamine is temporary, while the long-term damage — to ourselves and to others — is usually far worse and irrevocable.
Can society control revenge? While addiction recovery approaches like public health campaigns, school programs to warn about the addictive danger of revenge, cognitive behavioral therapy, and even anti-craving medications like those used to control overeating are useful, neuroscientists argue a much simpler method exists. It’s the act of forgiveness, expressed by three words, “I forgive you.” Brain scan studies of participants who chose forgiveness over revenge showed successful activation of the prefrontal cortex — the area of the brain responsible for executive function and self-control, and reduced activation in the part of the brain associated with pleasure and craving.
Liberating society from the scourge of revenge requires leadership that has the wisdom to understand, and the strength to choose peace over punishment. Nations, like individuals, must embrace restraint and reconciliation over retaliation. The leadership of the world must be populated by individuals who consider the protection of human life and dignity their highest priority — who communicate these ideals through their actions, inspiring those they lead by example.
While revenge may be imprinted on our genes, we still have the intellectual power to choose between civilized behavior and our baser instincts.
Mary Ann Paliani lives in Boulder.