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The Amish schoolhouse shootings can be appreciated on so many levels. There's the murder thing, and the child-killing thing, and the deranged maniac thing, and then the school violence thing. Plus you got the extra shock value from the violence happening in Amish country, which has a reputation as a rather peaceful place. So all in all: shocking. But if you're Bob Herbert at the New York Times, you can always find something else to be shocked about, and even more, you can be shocked that other people aren't as sufficiently shocked as you would prefer. Hence Herbert's "Why Aren't We Shocked?" from earlier this week — and by the way, the more we think about it, the more we like that headline as a sort of universal catch-all for angry finger-wagging journalism in general. Anyway, Herbert points out that the Amish shooting victims were all girls (boys and adults were released by the killer), and given the killer's apparent intent to molest/rape the girls, there's a misogyny angle that deserves equal, shockworthy coverage as well. Since this angle wasn't much discussed in mainstream media coverage of the shootings, Herbert is, of course, shocked.

Herbert's larger point (and it is a very large point) contends that this lack of emphasis is just another symptom of our society's overall misogyny. We are, as a nation, indifferent to crimes against (or degradation of) women, as opposed to similar abuse of minorities. Rachel Sklar at HuffPo's Eat the Press takes it to the next level, noting the general lack of shock-response to Herbert's shockingness, which yet is another indicator of our collective misogyny. These issues are of course debatable, but setting all that aside (because we also hate women), we have another question. Has anyone ever been successfully shamed into feeling shocked?

Herbert's article is an example of the "WHERE is the OUTRAGE" trope, quite popular in news commentary and blogs both. You're meant to feel guilty about not getting angry, which, we suppose, might cause you to reflexively agree and become suddenly faux-shocked in order to cover your ass, empathy-wise. Blogs in particular are largely fueled by indignation, and we're certainly no exception. But it takes a particular kind of hubris to not only make an argument and express indignation, but to fault the reader (and society) for not instinctively sharing your own gut reaction. The lack of outrage becomes the real outrage, and that lack becomes the real story — and in a neat trick, insufficiently vocal disapproval of a negative issue becomes overt endorsement of same. If you don't share Herbert's outrage, or at least admit that he's right and you probably should be outraged, then you're part of the problem.

But really, when was the last time someone convinced you to be angry? Either you're shocked and outraged, or you're not. And either way, it doesn't mean you couldn't agree to recognize different facets of an issue (like the misogyny component of the shootings), but getting shamed into it doesn't speak much for the strength of the argument. It's probably fair to say that most everyone was quite shocked indeed by the Amish shootings. Herbert may find the public's spectrum of shock and the media's spectrum of emphasis insufficient for his own sensibilities, but regardless of his point, his outrage at the void of outrage doesn't make him any more credible.

Why Aren't We Shocked? [NYT]
Herbert Column Makes Barely A Ripple; Why Aren't We Shocked? [ETP]