Ryanne Molinari

Yesterday night I flipped on the TV (mistake number one) to see that a recap of the Johnny Depp v. Amber Heard trial is already—barely a year later—available for streaming. Not only is it available, it is currently the top trending series on Netflix. I couldn’t help reading the description:

Revisit the explosive trial that the New York Times called “a singularly baffling, unedifying, and sad spectacle” in this thought-provoking docuseries.

Depp v. Heard Netflix Docuseries

Why on earth would viewers want to revisit a “baffling, unedifying, and sad spectacle”? If the trial was this ridiculous and futile, why would we expect a “docuseries” composed of social media reactions to be any better? Why would anyone want to watch this?

And yet, we do.

Our society is obsessed with “hate-watching.” A quick internet search provides several related definitions of “hate-watching,” including:

• Viewing content that intentionally evokes hatred (i.e., shows/characters that are edited and marketed to draw hate)
• Viewing content that unintentionally evokes hatred (i.e., shows that try to be good and fail spectacularly)
• Viewing content that makes us “hate ourselves” (i.e., content that is morally degrading or intellectually pointless)

The Depp vs. Heard Docuseries manages to fit each of these categories, so much so that the Netflix synopsis should consider substituting “hate-provoking” for “thought-provoking”—although to be fair, a few torturous minutes of skimming this series did inspire a single interesting and edifying thought:

Hate-watching is a product of self-justification.

Any Christian viewer will discern that shows and subjects like this are a product of a fallen world. Their secular writers acknowledge them to be wholly “unedifying and sad,” but the anti-gospel sentiment of hate-watching runs much deeper than overt immorality. The licentious nature of such content is clear; what is less obvious but perhaps more subversive is the legalism of hate-watching.

Hate-watching is, at its core, an act of comparison, and comparison is an act of self-justification. Hate-watching makes us feel superior, much like the Pharisee in the parable as he looks at a tax collector and prays, “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.” (Luke 18:11, ESV).

The Pharisee, despising the tax collector, puffs himself up. He makes a case for why he is worthy of God’s attention and man’s favor by comparing himself to someone he deems—to use a modern phrase—a dumpster fire.

I love what Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes about comparison and self-justification in Life Together. Discussing how the disciples argued among themselves about “which of them should be the greatest,” he says:

It is the struggle of the natural man for self-justification. He finds it only in comparing himself with others, in condemning and judging others. Self-justification and judging others go together, as justification by grace and serving others go together.

Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer (HarperCollins; NY, 1954), 91.

Bonhoeffer locates comparison not merely in the sin of envy but in the fallacy of self-justification. When we compare ourselves to others, we are trying to justify ourselves, to make ourselves feel more worthy. In so doing, we lose sight of the reality that none are worthy.

Let’s return to the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. The tax collector is clearly grieved by his sinfulness, begs God’s mercy, and receives justification by grace (Luke 18:13-14). The Pharisee, intent on self-justification via comparison, receives no mercy and so continues on his judgmental, futile path. As he condemns others, he likely feels that little jolt of dopamine that modern man gets from hate-watching. He likely enjoys smug superiority as he watches the tax collector’s spectacle of repentance.

But the parable concludes: “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 18:14).

The glee of hate-watching is fleeting. Even secular definitions indicate that, eventually, it will cause us to hate ourselves; we may become so wrapped up in watching rubbish that we can’t look away because we can’t bear to look honestly at ourselves. We become hooked on temporary superiority (“Well, at least I’m not like those people”) because it keeps us from reckoning with our eternal insufficiency.

And yet, hate-watching doesn’t make us feel better; it keeps us coming back for our superiority fix, but it never satisfies. Why? Because “comparison is a thief of joy.” More importantly, comparison is a thief of grace.

Our desire for self-justification distracts from our need for justification by grace. Modern hate-watchers and first-century Pharisees seem as far removed as can be, but the impulse behind the two is the same. We watch “unedifying, sad spectacles” because they feed our self-justification. Again, hate-watching is not merely caving to lawlessness but returning to a perverted legalism.

Our society takes this one step further. Instead of just praying, “God, I thank you that I am not like other men,” modern hate-watchers broadcast their reactions online, using mockery and comparison to gain followers who, vulturelike, want in on the pride party.

Christians do not necessarily need to avoid watching trials or documentaries, but we do need to understand the temptations they pose. Whether or not we choose to watch, we must understand that the heart of hate-watching is fundamentally inconsistent with the heart of the gospel. We are justified by grace through faith, not by comparison through condemnation.

We can’t control the lawlessness of secular celebrities, filmmakers, influencers, or streaming services, but we can attend to the legalism latent in our hearts—the self-justifying instinct that will lead us only to despair.