Empathy: A bit more of it wouldn't hurt

He said it was meant for his friend Lisa but he wasn’t sure if it was really about himself and the sadness he felt.

That defines what empathy is about. 

Empathy is more than sympathy, which is the recognition of the suffering, the pain and the hurt of others. Empathy is the identification with such emotions, the ability to put oneself in another’s shoes and feel their pain. A random act of kindness is usually prompted by empathy.

Scientists and philosophers, known to be willing travellers of unbeaten paths no matter how inane and arduous, have tried to get to the bottom of the origin of empathy. Is it nature or nurture, innate or learned? Is it unique to humans, or are animals capable of it as well? What about aliens, should they exist? In the popular television show and film franchise “Star Trek”, Spock, the science officer on the starship USS Enterprise, is a human-Vulcan hybrid who inherited his mother’s human trait of empathy, which causes difficulties throughout his life.

Then there is the question of whether or not one has to have experienced similar pains in order to be able to identify with them in others. Carl Sandburg, an American writer and triple Pulitzer Prize winner, wrote a whimsical, sometimes melancholy, children’s collection called “Rootabaga Stories”, highlighted by “Only the Fire-born Understand Blue”. Blue is the colour of heat at its utmost extreme.

One evening, a few years back, my life was turning upside down. Feeling like giving it all up, I sat down on a bench at home, alone, tearful. My dog, usually a carefree and jovial being, walked over, sat down and looked up at me. His eyes said, “What’s the matter, silly you?” What he was thinking I had no idea, but he never left my side throughout the unending hours I sat there.

These days, the two-year-old baby girl at home who belongs to no one in my family but has been raised like one of our own, has taught me many lessons about empathy. Not only is she is fully capable of it, she is capable of giving it unconditionally and indiscriminately. Yet, it is not possible that in her two years on earth she could have experienced adults’ pains, some of them very subtle, let alone discern them. 

Why then, does our ability to empathise and care for others tend to diminish as we grow up?

Scientists have plenty of evidence to confirm with a reasonable level of certainty that humans are hardwired to feel empathy. Areas in our brains called the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) and the anterior insula (AI) become activate not only when we are in pain, but also when we discern that others are. Empathy is also more pronounced when we deal with others with whom we can more easily identify – same ethnicity, gender, religion, etc. Here in Thailand, we could add same colour shirts. Without empathy, the barriers between the two colours can never be broken, no matter how many songs and dances for reconciliation and unity are performed.

Despite the fact that empathy is nature, it is also nurture. Empathy heightens or dims depending on our environment, upbringing, learning, experience, moral beliefs, among many other factors. Many of us become so hardened that there is very limited space in our hearts for empathy. 

And in this state, do we become lower than animals of other species we usually regard as inferior? Dogs, elephants, bluebirds, dolphins, even rats, have clearly demonstrated that they are capable of empathy and concern for others, (sometimes not of their own kind). These non-human species were dismissed as “automata” by Rene Descartes, hailed as the father of modern philosophy. Descartes regarded them as just red-blooded machines, without thoughts or wishes.

Watching films or plays usually means getting inside “the skin” of the characters on the screen. We despair, exult and cry with them. But in real life, our empathy seems far more inhibited than in the dimly lit theatres or auditoriums. It may have to do with our self-consciousness, insecurity, prejudice, hang-ups, and beliefs that do not allow to us to “lose” ourselves, to go beyond them, to care about others. 

But we must try. Even Adam Smith, “the father of economics”, best known for emphasising self-interest as the driver of human economics, contended that self-interest and empathy did not conflict. Humans have a greater capacity to think than most animals: we can do more with our emotions. We can write music, create art and poetry. Our higher mental abilities make us more capable of both empathy and cruelty. Modern history has shown us that empathy always wins over cruelty. But we seem to continue to behave otherwise.

If we can cry at films and at plays, we may want to take note of a passage in Act II, Scene VII of Shakespeare’s “As You Like it”. In it, the melancholy Jaques says: 

“All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players.

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts.”

In a persistently divided Thailand, empathy is what all of us need, and all have the capability of giving. It is necessary for our survival. It breaks the barriers and bridges the divide. It costs nothing, and it never hurts.