The Sickness of Schadenfreude
Whoever mocks the poor insults his Maker; he who is glad at calamity will not go unpunished. -Proverbs 17:5
You’re happily driving along the highway, enjoying a sip of coffee, listening to your favorite podcast, when an idiot—or maybe a complete moron—swerves around you. He’s driving well over the speed limit, showing off his new Tesla. You mumble some imprecatory psalms and go back to your podcast, letting that goon fade into the recesses of your mind and not letting him ruin your morning.
Out of nowhere it seems another car goes flying past you. This one isn’t an idiot though, because he has the necessary lights on top of his car to allow for such a thing. “Somebody’s in trouble” you giggle to yourself. Much to your delight a little further down the road you see a little red Tesla pulled over. You’re filled with glee.
That experience is what the Germans call schadenfreude. But it’s German so when you say it be sure to give it a good angry scream. Schadenfreude means “harm-joy”, it’s the word for when you take pleasure in the suffering of others. One particular study found that this experience is heightened when the calamity happens to one of our perceived enemies. It is, they believe, connected with envy. And if we feel like the person deserved it, our delight is only greater.[1]
Proverbs 17:5 seems to speak against schadenfreude. This isn’t just about laughing at someone—it’s about taking pleasure in their suffering, seeing their downfall as deserved, and perhaps even using their misfortune to boost one’s own pride. This is why the proverb connects mocking the poor with insulting God: when we see suffering and respond with contempt rather than compassion, we’re disregarding God’s care for all people.
Why do we do this?
Part of it is likely a view of justice that has gone askew. Yes, we should agree with God’s justice. We have an innate sense of justice. When someone who seems arrogant, corrupt, or reckless falls, we feel satisfaction because it aligns with our moral expectations. You’ve probably profiled that Tesla driver already—he’s arrogant, wealthy, probably got the car handed to him by a wealthy parent, doesn’t care about the rest of humanity, selfish jerk he is. Having him pulled over helps us believe that the world is as it should be.
His Tesla also exposes your beat-up old rust bucket of a Chevy Lumina. His perceived success is your failure. This is when schadenfreude really kicks in—if a person’s success made us feel insecure, their failure brings relief.
Your feeling of delight will only heighten if you happen to notice bumper stickers on his Tesla promoting the candidate on the other side of the aisle, a sports team you hate, or a Nickelback logo.
Now, watch as I pop a hole in your schadenfreude. A few moments later you are passed by the Tesla again, but this time he has a police escort. Turns out he wasn’t speeding because he was a arrogant—he is rushing his infant daughter to the hospital for a life-saving procedure. Now who’s the jerk?
You’re schadenfreude turns to shamenfreude (I don’t think that’s an actual word). And I think this is what we tend to do to a passage like this. We apply it to a situation like this and say, “I really shouldn’t have mocked that poor dude’s calamity.” Had he been an arrogant fool, though, I’m clean. No need to apply this verse—it’s only for the poor people who can’t help it, or calamity that happens to the good guy.
The only problem, though, is that this isn’t what the verse says. Nor is it what we see in places like Ezekiel 25:3-7, Ezekiel 35:12-15, or Obadiah 12. Now at first glance you might say, “wait, these guys were delighting in the downfall of the Israelites. They are the good guys. That’s why God is mad at them.” Fair enough, but have you read your Old Testament? The Israelites at this time were like that Tesla driver minus the hurting daughter. They were awful. The type of people you’d feel justified in celebrating their downfall.
Why then is schadenfreude wrong? Because it is the opposite of the heart of Christ. It is anti-gospel. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8). Instead of taking pleasure in our downfall, He endured the cross to lift us up. When we rejoice in the suffering of others, we insult our Maker (Proverbs 17:5), who calls us to love our enemies, not mock them (Matthew 5:44).
If schadenfreude is rooted in a warped sense of justice and a need to elevate ourselves over others, then the gospel completely dismantles it. In Christ, we no longer have to prop up our worth by comparing ourselves to others. The cross levels the playing field—we are all sinners in need of grace (Romans 3:23). That Tesla driver? No worse than you. That politician you despise? No more undeserving of mercy than you. The person who wronged you? Still made in the image of God, just like you.
But the gospel does more than just expose our faulty thinking—it transforms our hearts. Jesus didn’t look down from the cross with schadenfreude, delighting in the downfall of those who mocked Him. Instead, He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). When we were His enemies, He did not gloat over our calamity. He took our calamity upon Himself.
So the next time you see the Tesla pulled over, what if instead of feeling joy at their downfall, you prayed for them?
[1] See here: https://neurosciencenews.com/schandenfreude-neuroscience-23315/ and here: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29112719/