Taking the Drama from Social Justice: From Triangulation to Transformation

In early 2022, at the 94th Academy Awards, Chris Rock made a joke about Jada Pinkett Smith. Jada’s husband, Will Smith, promptly took the stage to strike Rock physically. We might say that Rock, the original oppressor, was now oppressed by Smith, whose actions escalated matters from verbal to physical.[1] Social commentary ranged widely, with differing views on the roasting culture at awards shows, varying opinions on how much of an overreaction Smith’s slap was, and the fact that Pinkett Smith had certainly not indicated any need for Smith’s aggressive rescue. All three were harmed that evening. Arguably, they were left in a worse position than at the start.

Confronting an injustice wrongly perpetuates the problem. Even slight differences in perspective, experience, or how the situation is described to others can complicate it further and, at times, contribute to prolonged dysfunction and cyclical harm.

Employing a framework known as the Drama Triangle—Persecutor, Victim, and Rescuer—the first section of this article will illustrate how social justice discourse can break down and become stuck in cycles of vengeance, dependency, and enmity.[2] The second section will explore this dynamic as reflected in the first-century occupation by Rome (Persecutor) of Israel (Victim) in light of their hope for a Messiah (Rescuer). A final section will explore ways that healthy and transformative discourse about justice requires mercy and humility (Micah 6:8).

The Triangular Shape of Social Justice

At one level, social justice is binary. Injustice occurs between two parties, such as oppressed and oppressor, rich and poor, bourgeoisie and proletariat, white and BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Colour), Māori and Pākehā, or abled and differently-abled. Sometimes, injustice can be resolved between the two originating parties without involving others, as Matthew 18:15–16 describes. Often, the emotional energy within the conflict is too much, and a third party such as a mediator, judge, lawyer, or advocate, is required. The moment a struggle for justice involves more than two parties is when justice becomes social.

This triangulation is seen throughout Scripture. Often, the prophet is the third party. Consider Isaiah 58, where the prophet critiques Israel for worker exploitation (58:3) and calls them to repent and change their behaviour (58:6–7, 9–10), or 2 Samuel 12, where the prophet Nathan creatively and prophetically challenges King David for his oppressive, murderous, and adulterous actions toward Uriah and his wife Bathsheba (12:1–13). In both situations, the prophet cannot remain silent in the face of injustice.

Imagined Justice and the Descent into Drama

Resolving an injustice is rarely a simple process. In theory, it is easy to imagine an idealised scenario where a critique by an ally or the resistance of the Oppressed (or some combination of the two) leads to the immediate repentance of the Oppressor.

Scripture and human history, however, provide a grim realism by contrast. Repentance does not simply or immediately follow critique and resistance. In the context of a Christian worldview, the distorting influence of sin is understood not only to cause injustice but also frustrate any process of repairing it. The Drama Triangle helps illustrate the ways that sin disrupts the pursuit of justice.

The Drama Triangle as a Tool

The Drama Triangle, a widely applied framework formulated by psychoanalyst Stephen B. Karpman, identifies three roles people play within conflicts: the Persecutor, the Victim, and the Rescuer.[3]

Relational systems such as families often get stuck in drama. By drama, we refer to the simultaneous states of unresolved conflict between all parties. The Persecutor (e.g., Parent A) blames the Victim in harsh, critical, and controlling ways. The Victim (e.g., the Child) feels unfairly treated and powerless to do anything about their situation; instead resents the perpetrator and depends on the Rescuer. The Rescuer (e.g., Parent B) keeps things stuck by circumventing the agency of the Victim from a posture of superiority, thus making the Victim dependent on them.

Three clarifications need to be made before we proceed. First, an important difference exists between genuinely being a victim (being harmed) and playing the Victim (depending on a Rescuer). Likewise, there is a difference between legitimate rescue (emergency medical care) and playing a Rescuer (acting on behalf of a Victim who remains passive). Second, our goal is not to engage in labelling specific people as Victims, Rescuers, or Persecutors. The usefulness of the Drama Triangle is not to simplistically critique others but rather to see with fresh eyes how we might be taking any (or indeed, all) of the postures described by it. Third, the relationships explored here are far more complex than can be thoroughly examined in this short essay. We will not be able to analyse every possible way that, for example, a Victim can relate to a Rescuer. Instead, we will outline the most common tendencies that play out in such triangulation. We now consider these patterns that play out in the Drama Triangle.

The Destructive Dynamics of Drama

Cycles of Vengeance

Between Persecutor and Victim, drama takes the shape of cyclic vengeance. In a world free of sin, ego, and drama, responding restoratively to oppression would involve all parties agreeing together concerning what was done (and equally what was not done) by each party, the degree of severity of the actions, and what was needed to make things right as much as possible. In the real world, however, such shared agreement is rare. Whatever degree of truth any party has in critiquing the other (or defending themselves), the failure to share that truth between both parties prevents progress.

In some situations, one party can be innocent as a victim, bearing absolutely no guilt or responsibility for the harm done to them. In other situations, there is at least some small degree of responsibility on the part of both parties, and efforts to rectify the situation are distorted, which leads to escalation. Other times, the labels of Oppressor and Oppressed linger on through generations. They are applied in various ways to those who inherit the privilege or disadvantage flowing on from specific past injustices.

Whether the oppression has to do with discrimination, abuse, or exploitation, there are two frequent ways in which efforts at rectification get disrupted: first) the Victim is blamed wrongly, or second) the Persecutor is resisted wrongly. The result is that cycles of vengeance play out, with escalating blame and retaliation.

The Victim identity is complex. On the one hand, it can be a fitting and humanising term which rightly names the reality that someone has been subject to harm or oppression. This is particularly so when a Victim is inappropriately blaming themselves for the harm they have experienced. On the other hand, it is a label that can contribute to people staying stuck. People who have experienced oppression often choose at some point to lay aside the Victim label, finding that this identity has become a hindrance to recovering from and moving past the harm. They feel that continuing to identify as a Victim keeps them defined by the other person, and instead seek ways to identify based on goals or relationships that they prioritise for themselves.[4]

The Victim identity can be problematic in other ways. When oppression is all someone knows, they can become desensitised and more likely to commit it themselves. In the case of human trafficking, it is a tragic reality that traffickers often have previously been Victims of trafficking.[5] Likewise, war Victims can themselves become victimisers.[6] Considering these perspectives, we can see how easy it is for the Victim label to contribute to the drama.

Cycles of Dependency

People are sometimes harmed in ways beyond their ability to rectify on their own, and they therefore need outside assistance. In such situations, external help can be appropriate and effective. However, as is well known to the aid and development sector, helping can be done in ways that fail to be truly helpful. Help can even actively cause unintended harm. Those at the giving end of economic resources may feel they are fighting poverty, but (for example) when resources are merely distributed in ways that by-pass the understanding, input, and agency of those on the receiving end, this leaves them with a simply passive role to play. This can harmfully reinforce a feeling of inferiority and contribute to cycles of dependency. Drawing on Jayakumar Christian, Bryant Myers documents how the “god-complexes” of the materially rich reinforce the feelings of inferiority among the materially poor.[7]

In the context of social justice, there is a good desire to be an ally to support the advancement of those who have been oppressed. However, the motive to help can be mixed with the motive to be right or look good. The term “performative allyship” describes demonstrations of support that appear more to do with the person being seen to be doing the right thing than truly helping.[8] Such performative efforts are sometimes seen to focus on the Rescuer’s righteous anger or heroic compassion rather than on the actual plight of the Victim. Some, despite the reality of past harm, find the Victim label inappropriately generalising for their group.[9]

Cycles of Enmity

In the context of social justice discourse, Allies also express their allyship by critiquing the Oppressor. As we saw above, such criticism has a biblical basis in the role of the prophets. Prophetic critique of oppressors is good and even urgently necessary. Drama, however, results when the true nature and scope of the harm done is obscured either by exaggeration on the part of the Ally or by minimising on the part of the Oppressor. Oppressors tend to respond defensively to demonisation, thus preventing the desired change. Rescuers can also amplify their verbal or other critiques until they feel justified in committing physical violence, becoming oppressors themselves. For example, John Brown, the infamous abolitionist in the US Civil War era, is an example of an Ally who justified violence in his efforts to fight slavery.[10]

The great tragedy of these cycles of dysfunction is that nobody is truly helped. Justice fails. When Persecutors receive vengeance from Victims and demonisation from Rescuers, they are unlikely to be humbled and confess their wrongs. Instead, they may feel victimised themselves and grow defensive. Similarly, a Rescuer’s efforts are not sharpened by the defensive protests of a Persecutor or the passive dependency (or unsatisfied resentment!) of a Victim. They are likely only to strengthen their efforts or disengage altogether. The harsh blame of the Persecutor or the condescending superiority of a Rescuer does not help a Victim. These only deepen the shame and passivity of the Victim mentality.

Such barriers to justice are not fixed forever. We need not get stuck in such enmity, dependency, and vengeance cycles. Drama can be undone.

Drama and Dikaiosune in the New Testament

We can detect the dynamics of the Drama Triangle in the first-century context of the New Testament. Israel was a victim of Rome’s oppressive occupation and longed for a messianic rescue.

Some, like the Zealots, pursued such rescue with militant action.[11] Other groups saw law observance and ritual purity as ways of preparing for this divinely ordained rescue.

In contrast to these strategies, the teaching of Jesus made mercy and humility essential for the pursuit of justice. Israel, even as an actual victim of oppression, needed to humbly repent and return to “the things that make for peace” (Luke 19:42). Jesus knew that the wrong kind of resistance to Roman rule would only escalate matters and arouse the full strength of their violence (Luke 19:43–44). His kingdom path was characterised by tenacious endurance of persecution (Matthew 5:11–12) and responding mercifully with prayer instead of hatred (5:43–44).

Jesus, however, was no defender of the oppressive status quo. The dikaiosune (‘justice’ or ‘righteousness’) Jesus described was revolutionary, but it directed people away from aggressive postures toward political problems and the path of costly spiritual transformation. Neither is this dikaiosune passive. For example, Jesus describes the widow demanding justice against her Oppressor as an example to follow (Luke 18:1–8). She is exemplary precisely because she is neither passive nor aggressive but assertive in persistently displaying tenacious faith.

John the Baptist prepared the way for this message of kingdom dikaiosune through his baptismal movement and prophetic preaching. Here, too, we see the intersection of the personal and public dimensions. John called for a lifestyle “in keeping with repentance,” resulting in social change in the direction of justice: giving a second spare tunic to the one with none, oppressors ceasing their oppression, tax collectors collecting only their due, ceasing extortion and false accusations, and embodying contentment (Luke 3:11–14).

This transformation also played out in the life of the early church. Myriad issues between one side and another (e.g., Jew and Gentile, ‘strong’ and ‘weak’, slave and free, Euodia and Syntyche) had to be resolved with merciful restraint instead of vengefully repaying “evil for evil” (Romans 12:17; 1 Peter 3:9). To the proud Corinthians escalating internal matters to public courts, Paul invites them to humbly consider being “wronged” instead (1 Corinthians 6:1–8).

Having noted the merciful, humble, and transformative nature of Jesus’ kingdom dikaiosune, we can now outline what happens when these kingdom qualities unlock the dramatic dynamics of vengeance, dependency, and enmity.

The Transformative Dynamics of Mercy and Humility

The kingdom dikaiosune of Jesus carries forward the spirit of Micah 6:8, which speaks not only of the command to “do justly” but also signals the two postures essential for a life of justice: mercy and humility. For transformation to occur, the grip of drama must be broken. The spirit-enabled qualities of mercy and humility enact this miraculous healing.

To show mercy is not to let Oppressors off the hook, abandoning justice in the process and leaving the Oppressor to continue to harm others. Neither is it to maximise or exceed reasonable conditions of justice, thereby becoming oppressive in the process. Instead, a lover of mercy will seek justice in a way that is neither passive nor aggressive. They will seek and pray for consequences (such as punishment or boundaries) to be right-sized and just, rather than too passively weak or too reactively stringent. Mercy neither allows the status quo nor seeks revenge.

Likewise with humility: to “walk humbly with your God” is not to bury your understanding and goals and passively enslave yourself to the input and direction of others. Neither is it to aggressively let arrogant confidence insulate you from the sharpening and assistance of others. Instead, one who walks humbly will hold their self-appraisal of their capacities and understandings with an appropriate amount of openness toward the insight and assistance of others. Mercy and Humility open the door to the possibility of transformation.

The Dismantling of Drama

Every actor in the triangulation must let go of the drive to be good, right, innocent, helpful, powerful, or understood and instead open themselves vulnerably to new possibilities. Each must pray for mercy to restrain themselves from the apparently justified judging of the other and the humility to remove the log from their eye (Matthew 7:1–5). Mercy must be extended to the other—and humility to the self. Let us sketch what this can look like.

Victim and Persecutor: From Vengeance to Restitution

The Victim mentality is characterised by innocence. The more innocent a Victim sees themselves, and the more certain they are of the guilt the Oppressor or Persecutor, the easier it can be to justify escalating resistance to revenge. As we saw above, this ‘justified’ vengeance becomes a new form of oppression, leading to perpetual cycles of vengeance.

The application of mercy and humility breaks the cycle. Mercy does not mean letting the Persecutor off with no consequences, but it does mean resolving not to recriminate or replicate the harm. Miroslav Volf carefully articulates the need for even Victims “to repent of the desire to excuse their reactive behavior.”[12] Mercy and humility thus restrain resistance so that it does not become revenge.

The Persecutor mentality is characterised by blame toward the Victim. Doing so is essentially defensive. Taking the focus off themselves, it is easier to ignore or deny their fault.

Mercy and humility break this cycle. Mercy enables a Persecutor to be mindful of the humanity and feelings of the one they are persecuting and to stop. Humility is not wild humiliation or admitting to every accusation. It does mean vulnerably laying aside defences and bearing with critique and sharpening. Such vulnerability is incredibly hard, especially for Persecutors, which is why demonisation from a Rescuer can be so counter-productive. The more a Persecutor can identify the harm they truly have done, free of minimising or exaggeration, the more likely they may feel able to make amends sincerely. Mercy and humility can transform a posture of blame into an ethic of amends.

Victim and Rescuer: From Dependency to Partnership

Because of the tendency for Victims to see themselves as innocent and powerless to change their situation, they can easily get caught, as shown above, in dependency cycles with a Rescuer. Resentment, which plays a more obvious role between Victim and Persecutor, can also play out between Victim and Rescuer. A Victim might resent themselves for not helping themselves, or even their Rescuer when the help offered appears ineffective, inappropriate, or unwanted.

Victims can break this hopeless and bitter cycle of dependency or resentment by applying mercy and humility. Victims need to have mercy for themselves for not having prevented or changed their situation; and mercy for Rescuers whose help is unhelpful.

In what sense does a Victim need to be humble? In this context, humility is not about humiliation but an even, sober self-assessment. Seeing humbly is not only about seeing limitations but also seeing capacity. Humbly seeing limitations gives them clarity about what kind of help is helpful. Likewise, humbly seeing capacities helps prepare them for the actions only they can perform. Humility moves them beyond passive reliance and positions them to apply their own agency.

The Rescuer mentality is characterised by a desire (often subconscious) to be good – or be seen as good. Rescuers don’t help in a truly relational way. Instead, they apply solutions, give answers, and meet needs according to their sense of what is right. This does not leave room for the agency or insight of those they seek to help. Without realising it, such rescuing keeps the Rescuer in the place of superiority, and the Victim passively reliant on them.

How do mercy and humility transform this superiority? Rescuers need to have the mercy to see the Victim as they are, not simply as passively dependent on them. Humility for a Rescuer is about seeing their tendency to try to ‘save’ the Victim and seeking better ways to relate to them that truly help. Mercy and humility transform a harmful posture of superiority into a humanising ethic of availability.

Rescuer and Persecutor: from Enmity to Dialogue

Rescuers tend to demonise Persecutors. As we have seen, this demonisation distorts the truth, which can lead to a sense of victimisation by the Persecutor who feels misrepresented. The more demonisation on the part of the Rescuer, the more defensiveness on the part of the Persecutor. Instead of truly helping the Victim or humbling the Persecutor, they merely add drama to the situation. Cycles of enmity are perpetuated.

Mercy and humility break this cycle. Rescuers need to have mercy to see the humanity of the Persecutor and avoid demonising them. Rescuers also need the humility to see that their excessive critique distorts the truth. There is a middle ground between the extremes of aggressive demonising and passive silence—it is balanced critique. Mercy and humility help a Rescuer to embody this.

What about the tendency of Persecutors to be defensive? We have seen how defensiveness is a barrier to the goal of justice. A Persecutor cannot amend for what they cannot – or will not – see.

Mercy and humility open blind eyes. A Persecutor needs the humility to look honestly at the severity of their own actions, including being defensive to critique. This again points to the incredible vulnerability required for such a humble look at oneself. Mercy is likewise needed in considerable measure. Mercy reminds us of the humanity of both self and other. Mercy can accept the limitations, imperfections, and mixed motives of every actor in the drama, including self. Humility and mercy can break the barrier of defensiveness and enable a Persecutor to truly listen to and accept critique.

Such is the transformation possible when mercy and humility are applied by parties in the triangulation. Vengeance gives way to the possibility for Restitution; Dependency morphs into Partnership, and Enmity makes room for Dialogue.

This ultimately can dismantle drama to the extent that the dynamics are changed, and the actors themselves take on new roles.[13] Persecutors who blamed and acted defensively can become Learners who listen to critique and make amends. Victims with tendencies to engage in reactive vengeance or passively depend on others can become Agents who appropriately resist those who harm them and take up full agency in seeking the support they desire to achieve their goals. Rescuers who unconsciously seek to be good by offering help from a posture of superiority or dealing out excessively demonising critique can become Partners who offer support from a new posture of humane love and critique from a posture of merciful restraint.

Conclusion

Aided by the clarity of the Karpman Drama Triangle, we can see how cycles of vengeance, dependency, and enmity play out between the Victim, Persecutor, and Rescuer, not only in family or other relational systems but in social justice discourse. We have also seen how familiar these patterns of dysfunction are to Scripture and finally charted some of the way that the merciful and humble kingdom ethic of Jesus can dismantle the dynamics of Drama. By restraining ourselves from destructive actions of blame, vengeance, superiority, dependence, demonising, and defensiveness, we can not only stop the perpetuation of harm but make space for the possibility of rectification and real justice. Drama can be undone, truth can humble and set free, and mercy can triumph over judgment.

Dale Campbell is husband to Di and father to Thomas. He has a Masters in Applied Theology through Carey College and was the producer for The Justice Conference from 2020-2022, while he worked for Tearfund NZ. He now works for Auckland Church Network, is Auckland coordinator for 24-7 Prayer Aotearoa NZ, and attends Birkenhead Community Church.

[1] For an overview, including Chris Rock’s rejection of the victim label, see Julia Emmanuelle, “Chris Rock Jokes About Will Smith Oscars Slap During Stand-Up Show With Kevin Hart: ‘I’m Not a Victim’,” USMagazine.com, 25 July 2022, https://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-news/news/chris-rock-says-hes-not-a-victim-after-will-smith-oscars-slap.

[2] Stephen B. Karpman, “Fairy Tales and Script Drama Analysis,” Transactional Analysis Bulletin 7.26 (1968): 39–43. Online at: https://www.karpmandramatriangle.com/pdf/DramaTriangle.pdf.

[3] For a recent discussion, see Emma Redfern, “The Drama Triangle and Healthy Triangle in Supervision.” Irish Journal of Counselling and Psychotherapy 21.1 (2021): 4–8; and I. M. Shmelev, “Beyond the Drama Triangle: The Overcoming Self,” Psychology Journal of the Higher School of Economics 12.2 (2015): 133–49.

[4] For an example of diverse experiences with the victim identity, see Amy Leisenring, “Confronting ‘Victim’ Discourses: The Identity Work of Battered Women,” Symbolic Interaction 29.3 (2006): 307–330.

[5] Alexandra Louise Anderson Baxter, “When the Line between Victimization and Criminalization Blurs: The Victim-Offender Overlap Observed in Female Offenders in Cases of Trafficking in Persons for Sexual Exploitation in Australia,” Journal of Human Trafficking 6.3 (2020): 327–338.

[6] See Emma Gordon, “Victims and Perpetrators: The Implications of the Dual Status of Child

Soldiers,” E-International Relations, 3 August 2011, https://www.e-ir.info/2011/08/03/victims-and-perpetrators-what-are-the-implications-of-this-dual-status-of-child-soldiers.

[7] Bryant L. Myers, Walking With the Poor: Principles and Practices of Transformational Development (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis, 2011), xxiv, 123–4, 130–1, 178–9.

[8] Peter Kalina, “Performative Allyship,” Technium Social Sciences Journal 11 (2020): 471–481; see also Holiday Phillips, “Performative Allyship is Deadly (Here’s What to Do Instead),” Forge.medium.com, 10 May 2020, https://forge.medium.com/performative-allyship-is-deadly-c900645d9f1f.

[9] For example, in relation to racist victimhood, see John McWhorter, “Do Black People Enjoy Being Told They are Weak and Dumb? The Elect Hope So,” johnmcwhorter.substack.com, 27 April 2021, https://johnmcwhorter.substack.com/p/do-black-people-enjoy-being-told.

[10] Gary Alan Fine, “John Brown's Body: Elites, Heroic Embodiment, and the Legitimation of Political Violence,” Social Problems 46.2 (1999): 225–249.

[11] Like the revolts of Judas Maccabeus against Syria in the second-century BC, and Simon bar Kochba against Rome in the second-century AD. See Lester L. Grabbe, “Jewish Wars With Rome,” in Dictionary of New Testament Background, ed. Craig A. Evans & Stanley E Porter (Downer’s Grove: IVP, 2000), 584–588.

[12] Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 117.

[13] See David Emerald, The Power of T.E.D.* (*The Empowerment Dynamic) (United States: Polaris, 2009), who suggests the new roles of Creator, Challenger, and Coach.