‘I suffered and you should, too’ is an evil response
Photo: Gerald Farinas.
There’s a particular kind of bitterness that masquerades as morality: The idea that because someone suffered, everyone else should too.
It’s the mindset that scoffs at mercy, sneers at justice, and calls it “fairness.”
And nothing angers me more than hearing this argument used—especially by people who call themselves Christians—against programs of debt forgiveness, grants for the poor, or any policy rooted in compassion.
Let’s call it what it is: cruelty disguised as equity.
I’ve had student debt.
I worked hard.
I paid it off.
I also carried crushing medical debt and somehow clawed my way through it.
But not once did I believe that my suffering should be a blueprint for others.
If there is now an opportunity to ease that burden for someone else—why wouldn’t I rejoice?
Why wouldn’t I fight for it?
Isn’t that the entire premise of progress—to make life better for the next generation?
Yet I hear it again and again, “I paid off my loans. Why should they get theirs forgiven?”
“I had to hustle without help. Why should they get grants?”
The answer is simple.
Because we can, and because it’s right.
And because none of us should want suffering to be standardized.
It is especially disheartening when Christians—people whose entire faith is built on the grace of God—echo these sentiments.
There is nothing Christian about resenting another person’s relief.
Jesus didn’t heal only those who earned it. He didn’t feed only those who had fasted. He didn’t say, “Well, Peter had to walk on water, so now every disciple better swim or drown.”
Grace is not transactional. It is transformational.
If our country can pour trillions into military contracts and corporate tax breaks, don’t tell me there isn’t room in the budget to forgive student debt!
Don’t tell me we can’t wipe out medical bills that trap families in cycles of poverty for generations!
These programs aren’t handouts—they are hand-ups.
And they work!
Research from the Roosevelt Institute found that canceling $50,000 in student loan debt per borrower would boost the economy by up to $108 billion a year and add up to 1.5 million jobs annually (Ghilarducci & Farmand, 2020).
A 2021 study from the National Bureau of Economic Research also showed that student loan forgiveness increases borrowers’ mobility, earnings, and the likelihood of starting a business (Di Maggio et al., 2021).
Medical debt relief similarly improves economic conditions.
A 2021 Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) study found that financial interventions—like debt forgiveness—are associated with significantly reduced stress and increased ability to pay future medical bills (Kondo et al., 2021).
RIP Medical Debt, a nonprofit that buys and forgives medical debt, reports that recipients of debt relief report increased capacity to pay for necessities like rent, food, and transportation.
What’s more Christian than that?!
What’s more American?!
Our society is not a hazing ritual.
We do not become noble by how much we’ve suffered but by how much suffering we’re willing to prevent.
If we endured injustice, we ought to be the first to stand up and say, “Never again.”
If we weathered hardship, let’s be the ones to break the cycle.
I do not want others to suffer because I did.
I want them to be free.
I want their shoulders unburdened.
I want our systems to be kinder than the ones I faced.
That’s not weakness.
That’s mercy.
And mercy should never make us mad—it should move us to action.