‹ Dragoman · Edition 4
Translated from Turkish · 4 June 2026
bonus · translated from Turkish

Moral Disappointment

The essay argues that political rupture becomes morally devastating when trust in shared rules and institutional legitimacy is felt to have been violated from within.

Trying to understand a disappointment is harder than living through it. Because understanding requires distance, whereas disappointment seizes a person at the very center. I write this piece within that tension: with the slight vertigo produced by trying to look both from within and from without.

I am an ornithologist and an evolutionary biologist interested in biogeography. My work is to study birds: to read the history behind the distributions of species, to understand the logic beneath patterns of behavior. What does the history behind the distribution of bird species tell us? Why do certain patterns of behavior emerge in particular environments? Which conditions encourage cooperation, and which heighten conflict? Why does one species maintain a given life strategy while another follows a different path?

For years I have pursued these questions. Lately, however, I find myself asking similar questions about human communities.

This piece began with a court decision in May 2026 that declared the congress of Turkey's main opposition party invalid, with the subsequent evacuation of the party headquarters through a police intervention in which tear gas was also used, and with the deep silence all of this produced[1]. But its real subject is not that decision. Its real subject is trust. More precisely, how trust is eroded, why people sometimes feel disappointment more than anger, and why some political ruptures produce not only a political feeling but a moral one.

As an evolutionary biologist, I think this is not only a matter of politics. It is also a question of human nature, of institutions, and of the ways we live together. The Biology of Morality

We often think of morality as an individual trait. There are good people and bad people. There are those with principles, and those without. Yet when we look at human behavior from an evolutionary perspective, the picture appears somewhat more complex.

Throughout its history of millions of years, the human species succeeded not by living alone, but by cooperating. Communities capable of building trust, developing relations of reciprocity, and abiding by shared rules gained an advantage in survival.

In 1975, within the framework he called sociobiology[2], Edward O. Wilson placed the following question at the center: Can social behaviors such as altruism, loyalty, and punishment be explained by evolutionary mechanics? This question unsettled both biologists and social scientists, because if answered correctly, neither pure biological determinism nor pure cultural construction would suffice. The strongest criticism directed at Wilson was precisely this: reducing human behavior to genes risks rendering history and institutions invisible. Wilson later answered this criticism through the concepts of epigenetic rules and gene-culture coevolution: biology determines not fate, but inclination. The distinction may seem small, but it changes everything.

For this reason, the sense of justice, the expectation that a promise will be kept, and the response to injustice should not be thought of merely as cultural inventions. A significant number of evolutionary psychologists point out that these are also parts of our evolutionary past.

Societies that believe they are living within a democratic system often react not only to losing, but also when they think the rules have changed. Losing an election can of course produce sadness. But what leaves a deeper and more lasting mark in people's memory is often not the defeat itself, but the fact that the result is later opened to dispute, the feeling that the rules of the game have been rewritten after the game has been played. Because trust is placed not only in the outcome, but in the legitimacy of the process.

Studies in the field of evolutionary psychology show that the human mind is extremely sensitive to violations of the social contract (Cosmides & Tooby, 1992; Trivers, 1971). Jonathan Haidt, in turn, showed that moral reasoning consists largely of justifications produced after such intuitive reactions; that feelings of justice and loyalty precede rational calculation (Haidt, 2012). When a person or institution appears to benefit from common rules while not abiding by those same rules, people feel a powerful unease. This feeling is not only a rational assessment; it is also an alarm system inherited from our evolutionary past.

Perhaps this is why some events are not merely found to be wrong; they are felt to be unjust.

A recently published spatial political analysis showed that the shift in votes between Istanbul's two elections in 2019 was not distributed at random, but that neighboring districts formed clusters by behaving in similar ways (Gülhan, 2025). I, too, had assessed this through the eyes of a biogeographer, under the title the ecology of politics[3]. An increase in one district was spreading to neighboring districts in a chain reaction. Political trust, much like ecological diffusion, moved through physical contact and local networks. Moral Disappointment

Moral disappointment is not only the frustration of an expectation; it is the feeling that the world of values to which one has bound oneself has been violated from within.

As I write these lines, it is not possible for me to position myself as an outside observer. Because the disappointment I am speaking of is nourished by a feeling of which I, too, am a part.

I think that a political figure for whom I once voted, whom I supported, and whom I believed to represent certain democratic principles has today placed distance between himself and those principles. For this reason, I cannot regard the rupture that has occurred merely as a difference of political opinion.

…the essay continues at the source.

birikimdergisi.com · read in Turkish