Empathy is a thing. Love is also a thing. Like is also a thing. Not like is also a thing. No empathy is also a thing. Much of this is actually learned or unlearned as well.
What i have learned and slowly at that is that those sensitivities need to be nurtured and even learned directly with intent. Some of it sneaks up on you and that is often how we discover their existence. Then though we need to apply rigorous introspection.
I personally learned as a salesman to mirror the emotions of the people i was approaching. What is that? I also recall simply not liking a colleague. When i thought about it, I understood that i completely lacked a reason. I set that aside but i had to make the effort. We worked together on projects for years, but i still did not like him.
Feeling sorry is always targeted to a situation and empathy is situational. It can be nurtured as well or not.
No, You Can’t Feel Sorry for Everyone
The idea of empathy for all ignores the limits of human psychology.
https://getpocket.com/explore/item/no-you-can-t-feel-sorry-for-everyone
The world seems to be
getting more empathetic. Americans donate to charity at record rates.
People feel the pain of suffering in geographically distant countries
brought to our attention by advances in communications and
transportation. Violence, seen on historical timescales, is decreasing.
The great modern humanitarian project of expanding the
scope of our empathy to include the entire human race seems to be
working. Our in-group (those we choose to include in our inner circle
and to spend our energies on) is growing, and our out-group (everybody
else) shrinking. But there’s a wrinkle in this perfect picture: Our
instinctive tendency to categorize the world into “us” and “them” is
difficult to overcome. It is in our nature to favor helping in-group
members like friends, family, or fellow citizens, and to neglect or even
punish out-group members. Even as some moral circles expand, others
remain stubbornly fixed, or even contract: Just think of Democrats and
Republicans, Sunnis and Shiites, Duke and North Carolina basketball
fans.
Photo by Lance King/Getty Images
The endpoint of the liberal humanitarian project, which
is universal empathy, would mean no boundary between in-group and
out-group. In aiming for this goal, we must fight our instincts. That is
possible, to a degree. Research confirms that people can strengthen
their moral muscles and blur the divide between in-group and out-group.
Practicing meditation, for example, can increase empathy, improving
people’s ability to decode emotions from people’s facial expressions1 and making them more likely to offer a chair2
to someone with crutches. Simply increasing people’s beliefs in the
malleability of empathy increases the empathy they express toward
ideologically and racially dissimilar others.3 And when all
else fails, people respond to financial gain. My co-authors and I have
shown that introducing monetary incentives for accurate
perspective-taking increased Democrats’ and Republicans’ ability to
understand each other and to believe that political resolutions were
possible.4
But these exercises can take us only so far. In fact,
there is a terrible irony in the assumption that we can ever transcend
our parochial tendencies entirely. Social scientists have found that
in-group love and out-group hate originate from the same neurobiological
basis, are mutually reinforcing, and co-evolved—because loyalty to the
in-group provided a survival advantage by helping our ancestors to
combat a threatening out-group. That means that, in principle, if we
eliminate out-group hate completely, we may also undermine in-group
love. Empathy is a zero-sum game.
Just as even the most determined athlete cannot overcome the limits of the human body, we cannot escape the limits of our moral capabilities.
Absolute universalism, in which we feel compassion for
every individual on Earth, is psychologically impossible. Ignoring this
fact carries a heavy cost: We become paralyzed by the unachievable
demands we place on ourselves. We can see this in our public discourse
today. Discussions of empathy fluctuate between worrying that people
don’t empathize enough and fretting that they empathize too much with
the wrong people. These criticisms both come from the sense that we have
an infinite capacity to empathize, and that it is our fault if we fail
to use it.
In 2006, then-Senator Barack Obama spoke at Northwestern
University’s commencement bemoaning the country’s “empathy deficit” and
urging people “to see the world through those who are different from
us.” Several studies supported Obama’s concern: People in the 21st
century exhibit less empathy5 and more narcissism6 than in decades past. A torrent of think-pieces have lamented and diagnosed this empathy decline.
And then the pendulum swung back. People do care,
newspaper editorialists and social-media commenters granted. But they
care inconsistently: grieving for victims of Brussels’ recent attacks
and ignoring Yemen’s recent bombing victims; expressing outrage over
ISIS rather than the much deadlier Boko Haram; mourning the death of
Cecil the Lion in Zimbabwe while overlooking countless human murder victims. There are far worthier tragedies, they wrote, than the ones that attract the most public empathy.
Almost any attempt to draw attention to some terrible
event in the world elicits these complaints, as though misallocated
empathy was more consequential than the terrible event itself. If we
recognized that we have a limited quantity of empathy to begin with, it
would help to cure some of the acrimony and self-flagellation of these
discussions. The truth is that, just as even the most determined athlete
cannot overcome the limits of the human body, so too we cannot escape
the limits of our moral capabilities. We must begin with a realistic
assessment of what those limits are, and then construct a scientific way
of choosing which values matter most to us.
We can and do override our
moral instincts using our more logical and deliberative mode of
thinking, so the in-group vs. out-group opposition is not absolute. But
we have limited cognitive resources, which rapidly become depleted. For
example, keeping a nine-digit insurance policy number in mind without
writing it down requires working memory, and can impair our ability to
recall other information, like the phone number of the insurance agent.
Similar constraints cause what is known as decision fatigue:
Deliberating over an initial series of decisions can inhibit
thoughtfulness in later decisions, as observed in judges deciding
whether to grant prisoners parole earlier and later in the day.7
Similarly, full compassion requires inhibitory control (regulating our
own emotions to distinguish them from another person’s emotions),
self-reflection, externally focused attention, and recognition of
another person’s suffering. These faculties, too, can tire.
A data-based approach to identifying and ranking universal values calls on us to make use of the limits on morality that are inherent to all of us as human beings.
Morality can’t be everywhere at once—we humans have
trouble extending equal compassion to foreign earthquake victims and
hurricane victims in our own country. Our capacity to feel and act
prosocially toward another person is finite. And one moral principle can
constrain another. Even political liberals who prize universalism
recoil when it distracts from a targeted focus on socially disadvantaged
groups. Empathy draws our attention toward particular targets, and
whether that target represents the underprivileged, blood relatives,
refugees from a distant country, or players on a sports team, those
targets obscure our attention from other equally (or more) deserving
ones.
That means we need to abandon an idealized cultural
sensitivity that gives all moral values equal importance. We must
instead focus our limited moral resources on a few values, and make
tough choices about which ones are more important than others.
Collectively, we must decide that these actions affect human happiness more than those actions, and therefore the first set must be deemed more moral than the second set.
Once we abandon the idea
of universal empathy, it becomes clear that we need to build a
quantitative moral calculus to help us choose when to extend our
empathy. Empathy, by its very nature, seems unquantifiable, but
behavioral scientists have developed techniques to turn people’s vague
instincts into hard numbers. Cass Sunstein of Harvard Law School has
suggested that moral concepts like fairness and dignity can be assessed
using a procedure he calls breakeven analysis. Do people feel that the
benefits of a given course of action justify the costs? If so, the
action is worth taking. For example, we may judge that invasive
phone-hacking is moral if the cost of invasion of privacy is countered
with the benefit of preventing one terrorist attack at some minimum
frequency, say, every five and a half years.
Basing our moral criteria on maximizing happiness is not
simply a philosophical choice, but rather a scientifically motivated
one: Empirical data confirm that happiness improves physical health,
enhancing immune function and reducing stress, both of which contribute
to longevity. Shouldn’t our moral choice be the one that maximizes our
collective well-being? These data sets can give us moral “prostheses,”
letting us evaluate different values side-by-side—and helping us to
discard those lesser values that obstruct more meaningful ones. The only
wrong choice when it comes to morals is “all of the above.”
Photo by UN.org
These approaches can help us create a universal moral
code—something that can serve as a moral guide in all cases, even if we
are not able to actually apply it to all people all the time. Indeed,
numerous scientifically rigorous descriptive theories of universal
values already exist: Shalom Schwartz’s theory of basic values and
Jonathan Haidt and colleagues’ Moral Foundations Theory, among others.
We’ve tried to create a universal code before: In 1946, the United
Nations established an 18-member committee of varying nationalities to
formulate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Two additional U.N.
committees reviewed the draft before the General Assembly voted to
adopt it in 1948. Still, it relied on the opinions of elites rather than
of a broader populace. Today, we could take a more data-driven
approach.
As a case study, take Apple’s recent battle with the FBI
over unlocking an iPhone belonging to one of the San Bernardino
shooters. The FBI requested that Apple circumvent the iPhone’s
encryption that protects the user’s personal data (before ultimately
doing so itself). The case pitted personal security (protection from
government surveillance) against national security (determining whether
the San Bernardino attack involved coordination with ISIS). The balance
is a difficult one to strike, and it was largely argued in an
adversarial way that magnified differences of opinion.
We could be more systematic. We could use a standardized
score to examine how violations of personal security and national
security affect happiness. This could allow us to state that certain
values are more universal than others, and are therefore more central to
human well-being. Such an effort could tell us, perhaps, that on
average the anxiety people feel regarding the possibility of the
government reading their text messages is greater than the distress
caused by experiencing or anticipating a terrorist attack. If so, Apple
would emerge as more “morally right” than the FBI (or vice versa).
A data-based approach to identifying and ranking
universal values is ambitious to be sure. But, crucially, it calls on us
to make use of the limits on morality that are inherent to all
of us as human beings, rather than lamenting them. These constraints
challenge us to focus our attention, and drive us to see that not all
values are equally valid. Instead of indefinitely fighting over
tradeoffs between in-group- and out-group-oriented moralities, we might
find that picking among universally held values is more palatable,
efficient, and uniting—providing a moral function in and of itself. In
place of the usual, default concentric circles of in-groups that guide
us today (family, friends, neighbors, citizens) we would have the tools
to carefully engineer to whom we should extend our empathy, and when.
Think of the great progress physicists made when they
acknowledged the limitations of the physical world—nothing can move
faster than light, or be perfectly localized in the subatomic realm.
Similarly, we will make our greatest moral progress when we accept and
work within the limitations of human moral cognition, and forego an
unrealistic concern for respecting difference and moral diversity at any
cost.
Adam Waytz is a social psychologist and professor at
Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management. He studies
humanization, dehumanization, and the moral implications of these
processes.
References
1. Mascaro, J.S., Rilling, J.K., Tenzin Negi, L., &
Raison, C.L. Compassion meditation enhances empathic accuracy and
related neural activity. Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience 8, 48-55 (2013).
2. Condon, P., Desbordes, G., Miller, W.B., &
DeSteno, D. Meditation Increases Compassionate Responses to Suffering. Psychological Science 24, 2125-2127 (2013).
3. Schumann, K., Zaki, J., & Dweck, C.S. Addressing
the empathy deficit: Beliefs about the malleability of empathy predict
effortful responses when empathy is challenging. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 107, 475-493 (2014).
4. Waytz, A., Young, L.L., & Ginges, J. Motive
attribution asymmetry for love vs. hate drives intractable conflict. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 111, 15687-15692 (2014).
5. Konrath, S.H., O’Brien, E.H., & Hsing, C. Changes
in dispositional empathy in American college students over time: A
meta-analysis. Personality and Social Psychology Review 15, 180-198 (2011).
6. Twenge, J.M. & Campbell, W.K. The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement Atria Books, New York, NY (2010).
7. Danziger, S., Levav, J., & Avnaim-Pesso, L. Extraneous factors in judicial decisions. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 108, 6889-6892 (2010).
8. Kahneman, D., Krueger, A.B., Schkade, D., Schwartz,
N., & Stone, A.A. A survey method for characterizing daily life
experience: The day reconstruction method. Science 306, 1776-1780 (2004).
9. Killingsworth, M.A. & Gilbert, D.T. A wandering mind is an unhappy mind. Science 330, 932 (2010).
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