Suffering With(out) Meaning: Moral Masochism, Moral Injury, and the Fragility of the Self

The relationship between moral masochism and moral injury is complex and deeply consequential, particularly in the context of trauma that renders meaning-making difficult or impossible. However, neither moral masochism nor moral injury necessarily arises solely from trauma; both can develop independently, shaping the moral and psychological landscape of an individual’s life even in the absence of an explicitly catastrophic event. Freud’s notion of moral masochism, developed in The Economic Problem of Masochism (1924), refers to an unconscious need to suffer, often linked to guilt and self-punishment. Moral injury, a more recent concept, describes the psychological and existential crisis that follows the betrayal of deeply held moral beliefs. It is often experienced by soldiers, survivors of abuse, or those who have participated in or been complicit in acts they find morally repugnant.

Although moral masochism and moral injury do not necessarily intersect, both pose distinct yet devastating threats to the integrity of the self. Each, in its own way, can destabilize a person’s sense of coherence and meaning, leading to fragmentation, despair, and even the dissolution of subjectivity. This does not require the presence of trauma—moral masochism and moral injury can emerge in individuals with no catastrophic past, driven instead by ideological commitments, socialization, or personal moral convictions. When suffering cannot be integrated into a coherent framework or becomes overwhelming to the point of destabilizing meaning, the self may struggle to maintain a fundamental sense of coherence. The effort to resist this fragmentation can manifest as a compulsive retreat into masochistic self-dissolution or, in many cases, a more immediate and final escape, such as suicide.

Moral Masochism and the Internalization of Guilt

Freud’s theory of moral masochism extends his earlier work on the superego, particularly as articulated in Civilization and Its Discontents (1930). Freud argued that the superego, formed through identification with authority figures, can become a source of relentless self-reproach. In moral masochism, this guilt turns inward, seeking suffering as a form of atonement. Unlike sexual masochism, which involves the pursuit of pleasure through pain, moral masochism operates within an ethical or existential register: the individual derives unconscious satisfaction from suffering, believing it to be necessary for purification or redemption.

Karen Horney

Psychoanalyst and feminist, Karen Horney, in contrast to Freud, framed moral masochism not simply as a reaction to guilt but as a neurotic response to unresolved conflicts within the self. In Neurosis and Human Growth (1950), she described moral masochism as part of a broader self-effacing tendency, in which individuals seek suffering as a means of dissolving their individuality. This dissolution, she suggested, could sometimes be experienced as a form of transcendence—a psychological movement toward what Freud termed the "oceanic feeling," or a state of boundlessness in which the ego merges with something greater. Unlike Freud, who dismissed the oceanic feeling as a regressive longing for infantile security, Horney saw it as a potential psychological escape for those who could not reconcile their conflicts within the self.

For those deeply immersed in moral masochism, suffering becomes a way of negating their own agency. They do not merely feel guilty; they relinquish personal desires, individuality, and responsibility, seeking instead a passive, suffering state that allows them to be absorbed into something external—whether that be an ideology, a religious belief, or a collective moral cause. This is particularly evident in individuals who, despite never having experienced direct trauma, compulsively seek suffering as a means of proving their moral worth. Their self-dissolution is not the result of a catastrophic event but of a sustained psychological tendency toward self-negation in pursuit of moral purity.

Moral Injury and the Collapse of Meaning

Moral injury, as conceptualized by Jonathan Shay and later theorists, occurs when individuals experience events that fundamentally violate their sense of morality. Unlike post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is characterized by fear and hyperarousal, moral injury is marked by profound guilt, shame, and a sense of personal or collective betrayal. Soldiers who have participated in war crimes, survivors of genocide, or even citizens who feel complicit in historical injustices may experience moral injury as an existential crisis.

Moral injury does not require an unconscious drive toward suffering, as in moral masochism, but instead results in an existential rupture—a crisis of meaning that leaves the individual unable to reconcile their experience with any ethical or narrative framework. It is particularly evident in the aftermath of war, genocide, or systemic atrocity, where survivors or perpetrators alike may find themselves estranged from their own moral identities. Unlike moral masochism, which imposes an internal compulsion to suffer, moral injury confronts the individual with a void where meaning should be, making even suffering itself feel futile.

Yet moral injury, like moral masochism, does not have to arise from trauma. It can emerge from philosophical inquiry, political disillusionment, or ideological shifts that force individuals to confront contradictions in their moral worldview. A pacifist who realizes that nonviolence fails in the face of systemic injustice, a committed Marxist who recognizes the atrocities committed in the name of the proletariat, or a religious devotee who loses faith in divine justice may all experience moral injury without ever enduring a personally traumatic event. In such cases, the injury is epistemic rather than physical, but its consequences are no less severe: the individual is left without a coherent moral framework, unable to reconcile past convictions with present realities.

The Dissolution of the Self: Between Trauma and Transcendence

Even when moral masochism and moral injury remain distinct, each, in its own way, erodes the self’s capacity for coherence. The Holocaust serves as an extreme but illustrative case: for those who survived, as well as for later generations attempting to grasp its enormity, meaning-making itself is imperiled. Theodor Adorno’s famous dictum that “to write poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric” signals not merely a prohibition on art, but a deeper crisis: how does one construct a self in a world where the categories of meaning have been annihilated?

Karen Horney’s contribution to this question lies in her understanding of moral masochism as a form of self-dissolution that does not always lead to destruction. While Freud’s Thanatos posits the dissolution of the self as a drive toward nonexistence, Horney saw in moral masochism the possibility of achieving an illusory transcendence—the feeling of merging with a greater whole, whether religious, political, or even cosmic. For those suffering from moral injury, this dissolution may appear as an escape from unbearable contradictions. If moral injury creates an existential rupture, moral masochism offers an alternative: rather than confronting the crisis directly, one can simply dissolve into suffering, allowing an external ideology, religious framework, or moral cause to absorb the burden.

However, this movement toward transcendence does not always succeed. In extreme cases, such as the experience of the Muselmann in concentration camps—whom Levi described as having lost all traces of individuality—the dissolution of the self becomes a state of non-being rather than a merging with the infinite. The Muselmann represents the failure of meaning altogether: a human reduced to mere survival, stripped of will, identity, and even suffering itself.

Conclusion: The Necessity of Meaning-Making

While the Holocaust serves as the most extreme example of a historical trauma that destroys meaning, moral masochism and moral injury do not require such catastrophes to manifest. Both can emerge independently—moral masochism through ideological conditioning, moral injury through intellectual or ethical crisis. What is crucial in preventing the dissolution of the self is the restoration of meaning. This is why testimony, despite its inherent failures, remains essential. As Freud himself suggested in his early work on trauma, talking cures: narration, even if fractured, offers a form of psychic containment.

The challenge for those who suffer from moral injury is to find a framework that allows for ethical responsibility without succumbing to moral masochism. If moral masochism is allowed to flourish unchecked, it risks becoming a self-destructive spiral, one that seeks suffering without resolution. However, if meaning-making is entirely foreclosed, as in the case of extreme moral injury, then the dissolution of the self becomes the only remaining possibility. The task, then, is to forge a path between these two extremes—to acknowledge guilt and responsibility without allowing them to consume the possibility of subjectivity itself.

Horney’s insights into moral masochism offer an important alternative: self-dissolution is not necessarily a drive toward death, but it is often an escape from unbearable contradiction. Whether this dissolution leads to transcendence or annihilation depends on whether meaning can be reconstructed in its wake.