By William Brooks, Frontier Centre for Public Policy
Every autumn, North Americans engage in an intriguing blend of festivity and reflection that marks the harvest season. Traditional communities in Canada and the USA set abundant tables and bow their heads in thanks.
But beyond warmth and abundance, there lies a vexing paradox: We live in a culture that celebrates thanksgiving amid rising tides of grievance and resentment. Gratitude remains the theme of the season, but resentment too often defines our daily lives.
The virtue of gratitude and the vice of resentment represent two different orientations of the human heart. One opens us to joy, generosity, and transcendence; the other imprisons us in bitterness, envy, and perpetual discontent. The choice between them shapes not only our emotional well-being but also the moral climate of our society.
Gratitude and the Virtue of Recognition
Gratitude begins with recognition—the modest awareness that all the things we enjoy are not entirely of our own making. Life itself, family, friendships, opportunity, love, and beauty are received more than achieved. To be grateful is to acknowledge that we live amid gifts.
Cicero called gratitude “the parent of all other virtues,” and Aristotle described it as a form of justice—giving proper thanks where it is due. The grateful person is therefore not naive but realistic: They see that much of what sustains their lives cannot be commanded or earned.
Modern psychology has confirmed what the ancients intuited. Studies consistently show that grateful people report greater happiness, stronger relationships, and improved health. Gratitude fosters resilience and reduces envy; it literally directs the mind toward optimism. Giving thanks is not just an exercise in sentimental piety but a rational act—a recognition of dependence that paradoxically strengthens the self.
The Vice of Resentment Leads to Envy and Injury
Resentment is gratitude’s dark mirror. The word comes from the French ressentir—“to feel again.” It defines the habit of dwelling on perceived wrongs and nursing old wounds until they become incurable. While anger can be brief and even just, resentment lingers; it becomes the lens through which we watch our lives unfold.
Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche described “ressentiment” as the moral poison that arises when powerlessness turns inward. The resentful person cannot or will not forgive, so they invert the moral order, making their own injury a source of righteousness.
Psychologically, resentment gnaws away at joy and isolates the sufferer. It thrives on comparison, externalizes blame, and feeds envy: “Others have what I deserve.” While gratitude induces affection, resentment demands retribution. It transforms real or imagined injustices into moral capital—a way of defining oneself against an enemy.
Understanding the Sources of Gratitude
The Judeo-Christian tradition in the West offers some of the deepest resources for understanding and cultivating gratitude. For example, at the heart of Christian worship stands the Eucharist—literally, “thanksgiving.” In that central act, believers give thanks not merely for good fortune but for grace itself—the unearned love of God that redeems suffering.
Scripture commands gratitude not because life is always pleasant, but because thanksgiving is the posture of faith: “In everything give thanks,” writes Paul, “for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Gratitude is not denial but transformation—the conviction that even in hardship, meaning and goodness can emerge.
Church fathers saw gratitude as the antidote to pride—the venal sin of imagining oneself self-sufficient. Augustine and Aquinas both argued that gratitude binds the heart to God and neighbour alike. The grateful person lives in receptivity, aware that all good comes from a source beyond the self. From that awareness flows forgiveness, generosity, and joy.
Modern Ideologies and Persistent Resentment
The 20th century saw the emergence of a powerful ideological current rooted in Marxist thought—a framework that reinterpreted human history primarily through the struggle between oppressors and oppressed. Though originally economic, this outlook has been adapted across culture and education, where it now shapes much of our moral and political discourse.
In its cultural-Marxist forms, moral authority flows not from virtue but from victimhood. To be wronged becomes a source of moral status; grievance becomes a marker of authenticity. Students are increasingly taught to view social life as a zero-sum contest of power and oppression, in which gratitude for inherited goods—family, faith, nation—is seen not as virtue but as complicity.
While such perspectives can arise from legitimate concern for justice, they easily corrode into a politics of resentment. When moral worth is derived from grievance, gratitude appears to be betrayal—a complacency toward inequality or guilt over privilege. Resentment hardens into an ethic of perpetual accusation, dividing the world neatly into oppressors and victims.
The social consequences of this are visible everywhere: polarization, outrage, and the moral exhaustion of a culture that no longer knows how to forgive. A resentful society cannot sustain joy, because it cannot sustain gratitude—and without gratitude, there can be no trust, no reconciliation, and no shared future.
Rediscovering Gratitude in a Divided Age
Today, the practice of gratitude is a courageous countercultural act. It resists the cynicism that sees only what is wrong and reorients the soul toward abundance rather than scarcity, toward the good that remains even in a broken world.
Gratitude can be reclaimed through deliberate moral discipline: keeping a record of daily blessings, thanking others sincerely, recognizing what is good rather than what is lacking. Forgiveness, too, is an act of gratitude—the recognition that we have been forgiven much and should return forgiveness to others.
Communities, families, and even nations can cultivate gratitude by remembering their gifts rather than only their wounds. Thanksgiving is not merely a meal but a moral practice—a reminder that freedom, prosperity, and peace are fragile blessings, not permanent entitlements.
The Choice Before Us
At its heart, the contrast between gratitude and resentment is a choice between two ways of being. One opens the heart; the other closes it. One affirms life; the other negates it. The grateful person looks outward and upward, recognizing gift and grace. The resentful person looks inward and downward, fixated on loss and injury.
Both sentiments are contagious. Families shaped by gratitude are generous and joyful; societies shaped by resentment are chaotic and divided. In this age of discontent, perhaps the most important act is to simply give thanks—for the meal before us, the people around us, and the mystery that gives life its meaning.
As North Americans gather to give thanks in the fall of 2025, we might recall that gratitude is not merely an emotion but a form of wisdom. It is the refusal to let resentment define the story of our lives. As G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “The test of all happiness is gratitude.”
Every autumn, North Americans engage in an intriguing blend of festivity and reflection that marks the harvest season. Traditional communities in Canada and the USA set abundant tables and bow their heads in thanks.
But beyond warmth and abundance, there lies a vexing paradox: We live in a culture that celebrates thanksgiving amid rising tides of grievance and resentment. Gratitude remains the theme of the season, but resentment too often defines our daily lives.
The virtue of gratitude and the vice of resentment represent two different orientations of the human heart. One opens us to joy, generosity, and transcendence; the other imprisons us in bitterness, envy, and perpetual discontent. The choice between them shapes not only our emotional well-being but also the moral climate of our society.
Published in Epoch Times
William Brooks is a senior fellow at the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.
