I hate victims who respect their executioners.

Complicity disguised as acceptance

There's something unsettling about watching someone accept mistreatment as inevitable or even deserved. Sartre's bluntness here cuts at a real human tendency: we often internalize the judgments of people who hurt us, almost as if their power over us extends to our right to resist. We comply, we rationalize, we decide they must be right about us. And Sartre sees this as worse than the original harm—because it's harm we're essentially endorsing.

This shows up everywhere. Someone stays in a relationship where they're constantly diminished, explaining away their partner's cruelty as just how things are. A person accepts a workplace where they're systematically excluded, half-believing they're simply not capable enough. We respect our executioners by treating their verdict on us as final, as if accepting suffering proves our character rather than compromises it.

The uncomfortable part is that Sartre isn't letting victims off the hook—he's actually demanding more from them. He's saying respect for those who harm you isn't noble or mature. It's a kind of collaboration. Real dignity doesn't mean forgiving and accepting. It means recognizing you were wronged, that the harm wasn't deserved, and that your executioner's authority over you was always illegitimate. Sometimes self-respect means refusing to respect those who don't respect you.