Imagine: Your counterculture social media campaign goes viral, igniting a conflagration of cultural change as unexpected as it is incendiary. Within a decade, you are the most celebrated and reviled personality on the planet. As time marches on, your influence exceeds any figure in modern history.

Your name is Martin Luther.

At the outset of the 16th century, the church had become rotten with corruption. The selling of indulgences violated both the foundational tenets of Christianity and human decency. The papal schism of the previous century had nearly torn the church asunder.

Against this backdrop, an obscure theologian in a backwater town emerged to spark a revolution. But how?

Whether or not Luther actually nailed his 95 Theses to the Wittenberg church door remains unclear. But even if he did, what catalyzed the ensuing religious upheaval was his savvy manipulation of the social media of his time: the printing press.

It was Johannes Gutenberg who, with the invention of movable type in 1436, created the medium for mass circulation. But it took almost a century before Luther recognized that the printing press held the power not merely to disseminate scholarly dissertations but to drive radical change.

More impactful than Luther's content was his style of communication. He played his target audience masterfully, providing a template for one of the most controversial figures on the world stage today: President Donald Trump.

By employing a combination of scathing accusations, hyperbolic imagery, crass language and derisive nicknames, Luther deflected charges of heresy and even excommunication through the sheer entertainment value of writings that can only be described with this addition to the Ethical Lexicon:

Vituperative (vi*tu*per*a*tive/ vi-too-per-uh-tiv) adjective

Containing or characterized by verbal abuse, castigation, violent denunciation or condemnation.

Whether Luther should be forgiven for the baseness of his tactics because of the virtue of his cause is a question for theologians. But the merits of his movement stand side by side with the unintended consequences of his dialectic.

It is true that Luther's reformation brought to life a kind of religious purification, in both his Protestant movement and within the Catholic church, which could no longer ignore the veracity of his charges.

At the same time, however, his exposure of clerical corruption ushered in a new era of rational skepticism. His attacks on the papacy fueled not only his own movement but also fanned the flames of secularism and atheism. In a world where virtually everyone had previously believed in the Divine, Luther gave legitimacy to the outright rejection of religious practices and spiritual axioms no one had ever dared to challenge.

Comparisons between Luther and Trump are irresistible, although the differences are equally obvious. Luther seems to have been sincere in his convictions, literally risking his life to oppose the monolith that was the church. In contrast, no one really knows whether Trump has any core beliefs at all, and his vainglorious behavior risks little that he can't afford to lose.

Even those able to acknowledge Trump's accomplishments while condemning his caustic style (and there are few of us, to be sure) suspect that the demonstrable benefits of his policy successes outweigh his corrosive impact on society.

It seems probable that Luther, like Trump, believed that his goals justified his rhetorical excesses. In the short term, Luther may have been right. But his vituperative language left in its wake the collateral damage of religious radicalism on one side and institutional apostasy on the other.

Had Martin Luther foreseen the religious heresies he would unleash in the name of doctrinal purity, would he have moderated his messaging? Perhaps. In later years, he pivoted from revolutionary to reactionary. Ultimately, however, his own movement took on a life of its own and left him behind.

Whether Donald Trump will eventually go too far and alienate his base is anyone's guess. But for ourselves, and in the assessment of our leaders, it's worth careful consideration whether the ethical cost of vituperation will eventually erase any short-term victories it may provide. While the spectacle of it all may be entertaining, the price we pay as a society may well be more than we can afford.

See more by Yonason Goldson and features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists; visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: Afif Ramdhasuma at Unsplash