Writing about things that matter (to me)
I had the privilege of speaking at my church's midweek service this week, and I shared about the importance of treating other people the way Jesus did. Public speaking is not my strength by a long shot. I'm much more comfortable behind a keyboard than behind a pulpit. But I'm grateful for the opportunity to speak into this moment, and if you'd like to take the time to give it a watch, I would be honored.
I spend a lot of time thinking about how we can make the world a better place, and the solution that I keep coming to is compassion. I truly believe that if we all would practice a little more compassion in our daily lives, we’d solve a lot of problems. That’s why I write about it so often here. That’s why I created my mantra, “People are people.”
Even though we‘re each born with the capacity for compassion and even some of the basic impulses towards it, we’re also each innately selfish. As we grow and navigate the world, our experiences lead us in different directions. Some move towards compassion; others shy away from it.
No matter where we find ourselves, we can all do better. We each face things that stand between us and true, heartfelt care for our fellow human beings. And so, I think it’s worthwhile from time to time for us to go back to the basics. If compassion is our goal—and I hope it is—then making sure we have a clear understanding of it is an important step.
This week, I want to look at the root of compassion: empathy. What is it, where does it come from, and why does it matter? Let’s jump in.
Each of us experiences the world differently. No two people have the exact same experiences, opinions, goals, or habits. We may think that our way of being in the world is the “normal” or “right” way, but the truth is that every person’s worldview is as unique as any other. No single one is normative.
But as we go about experiencing the world, chasing our dreams, and processing what happens to us, we forget this truth. We tend to fall into an intellectual rut, uncritically accepting our own worldview as the only one that matters. We see the world the way we see it, and that’s that. End of story.
This is the opposite of compassion, and it leads down some very dark and dangerous roads. Which is why we need empathy.
Empathy is the choice to set one’s own worldview aside temporarily and to instead see the world from the point of view of another. You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.” That’s empathy. It’s imagining the world as they see it, taking on their memories, beliefs, vocabulary, preconceived notions, and—most importantly—their emotions and experiencing them as if they were your own.
In my research for this article, I came across a documentary entitled Empathy: The Heart’s Intelligence. While I haven’t had a chance to watch the film, yet I was captured by the title. It’s an excellent way of summing up what empathy is: combining one’s heart with one’s intellect to gain a richer view of the world.
Sounds simple enough, right? If only it were so. While empathy may not be so difficult to define, actually engaging in it is a different story.
I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where empathy was a high priority. I have many role models, but my mother especially has always been a shining example of empathy in my life. From an early age, she taught me to consider the world and my own actions from the viewpoints of others, starting with my family members and eventually extending to my friends, neighbors, and just people in general. When I learned skills like decision-making and conflict resolution, empathy was the foundation upon which they were built.
It’s laughably ironic in hindsight, but for many years, I erroneously assumed that everyone else had the same foundational understanding of empathy that I did. It was such a basic part of my own mental processing that I thought it must be human nature. In my mind, empathetic responses to others were the norm, while selfish responses were the outlier, an opposition to instinct. I naively expected other people to act empathetically towards each other, the same way I was taught to.
Alas, ignorance may be bliss, but it does not last forever. As I got older and experienced more of the world, I realized that more often than not, people stick to their own perspectives when making decisions. They don’t stray too far from their own worldviews. I was horrified to see this behavior in others, but I was utterly devastated when I came to see it in myself. I, too, have that selfish nature within me. Contrary to my early misconceptions, no one is empathetic by default.
Empathy is not an instinct that we are born with; it’s a skill that we must learn. When I realized this fact, it completely changed my understanding of human nature. And it inspired me to do the work I’m doing now of teaching people about empathy and compassion.
In my college Developmental Psychology class, we learned about the ways that the human brain changes as we grow into adults. One way of tracking a child’s development is by testing them for a cognitive skill called perspective-taking. Researchers do so by placing children on opposite sides of a table full of props and asking each of them to describe what they see and then to describe what they think the other child sees.
When they are young, kids can’t understand that people experience the world in different ways. They think that others see, hear, and feel exactly what they do, and they tell researchers that when they’re tested for perspective-taking. They’ll say, “I see a red ball in front of an orange square, and Billy sees a red ball in front of an orange square.” (That’s also why they yell, “You can’t see me!” when they cover themselves with a blanket.) It just doesn’t occur to them that things might appear differently from the other side of the table.
Of course, kids learn as they grow that everyone doesn’t see the world the same way. They learn this through experience, through disagreement with fellow children, and hopefully through caring guidance from parents and teachers. Eventually, we all learn to accept that other people have different points of view. But I wonder if most of us stop there.
The gap between basic perspective-taking to true, deep empathy is huge, and it takes a lot of effort, education, and experience to get there. Empathy is a skill, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. It’s good because it means you can get better at it; it’s bad because it means that you have to work in order to do so.
Many of us haven’t done the work to get good at showing empathy to others. No one has done enough. We all need to do better. And the good news is that we can.
Every skill has a certain amount of value, but I’d argue that empathy is among the most valuable skills one can have. While skills like carpentry, teaching, and writing can be used in a variety of scenarios to solve a multitude of problems, none of them can be used everywhere by everyone to help with every problem. Empathy, on the other hand, is literally always useful, and there is no limit on who can practice it. Everyone everywhere in every situation can and should benefit from engaging in empathy.
And that’s why I call it a practice. It is something that we need to be doing every day in every situation we find ourselves in. And as we do so, we‘ll find ourselves becoming better and better at it. That’s one of the benefits of practicing, right?
It’s like any other habit. It starts off difficult and unnatural. We have to remind ourselves to practice it, maybe by writing it on our hand or setting our phones to send us alerts. But over time, as we form a rhythm of practicing empathy in our everyday actions and conversations, it becomes easier and more natural, until eventually, it becomes a part of us.
This skill that we begin to learn as children can—if we want it to—become a decision that we make every day. And over time, those decisions will become habits. And those habits will become personality traits that form our identities.
If you want to be a more empathetic person, it starts with the simple decision to imagine the world from another person’s perspective. And then you practice that over and over until you get so good at it, it becomes a part of you! That’s the path to empathy.
What does getting good at empathy require? Well, it requires several things—things that may seem unnatural and counterintuitive to us. But when we choose to practice them, we see over time that they actually help us become better people and make better decisions.
These are a few things that you’re going to have to practice if you want to get good at empathy:
humility
recognizing and respecting the full personhood of others
openness to new ideas
putting aside preconceived notions
learning new vocabulary/re-learning words
willingness to admit you might be wrong
allowing the experiences of others to affect you emotionally
apologizing
getting comfortable with nuance and ambiguity
Learning any new skill and putting it into practice isn’t easy, and empathy is one of the most difficult skills of all. But it’s also one of the most rewarding. It is well worth the effort, I can assure you. I hope we’ll each put in the work to make it happen.
Of course, empathy is just a start. We’ve spent this entire article discussing the realm of the mind, which is extremely important. But empathy’s true value doesn’t show until it’s put into practice through compassionate acts. When you choose to open your heart and allow it to be affected by the experiences of others, how could that not have an impact on how you live your life?
What those actions look like will vary by person and circumstance. Maybe it’s giving someone in need a little bit of money. Maybe it’s starting a shelter to give struggling people a place to stay as they seek to improve their lives. Maybe it’s battling head-on the systems that create poverty and oppression in the first place. Or maybe it’s something completely different. Only you can know what your calling is, but a key component of it will always be compassion.
I believe that compassion can save the world from the trouble it’s in and solve our most dire problems. But compassion is in short supply these days, and if we’re going to make more of it, we have to start somewhere. That starting point is empathy, a skill we each need to be practicing every day.
I’ve laid out here how to do just that. Will you join me in my commitment to practicing empathy towards others each and every day? If you do, I can promise that it will change your life and provide you opportunity to make the world a better place. So let’s commit together to practicing empathy for the good of the world.
Thank you for reading this week’s blog post. I hope you found it worthwhile. If you, like me, are committed to practicing empathy, let’s connect. I’m still learning how to do this well, and having a community where we can share, discuss, and grow together would be incredible. If you’re interested, leave a comment, contact me, or reach out using one of the social media links below. I would sincerely love to hear from you.
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Robert Williamson, Jr., my professor and academic advisor back at Hendrix College, re-posted his article on the parable of the Good Samaritan recently, and it’s still as timely as ever. I hope you’ll read the full post, but this bit in particular spoke to me:
Jesus rejects the question, “Who is my neighbor?” He denies the assertion that there are some people who are within our sphere of concern and others who remain outside of it. It is illegitimate to question who is and is not our neighbor.
Rather than asking who is and is not our neighbor, our task as Christians is to be a neighbor to anyone who is need. It doesn’t matter if they are our neighbor. Our responsibility is to be their neighbor by showing mercy to everyone who needs it. There is no us and them. There is only mercy.
Jesus takes every barrier we set up between ourselves and other people—whether they be national, cultural, racial, political, or otherwise—and throws it out the window. We may want to limit our responsibility to only those we like or those whose interests align with ours, but our faith compels us to do otherwise.
That family who lives next door? You’re called to be a neighbor to them. (Duh.)
That person in front of you in the grocery store line? You’re called to be a neighbor to them.
That guy who just cut you off in traffic? You’re called to be a neighbor to him.
Those children locked in cages at our southern border? You are called by God to be a neighbor to them.
If you profess to follow Jesus, you don’t get to pick and choose who you want to be a neighbor to. Jesus already chose for you, and he chose everyone.
I have lived a relatively comfortable life. Growing up, my parents provided a great deal of stability for me. I never had to wonder where my next meal was going to come from. I didn’t have to work because I wasn’t responsible for much other than my schoolwork and staying out of trouble. When I graduated high school, I went to college without paying a dime out of my own pocket, and then I did the same with graduate school. My education and work opportunities prepared me to transition smoothly into the work force where I am currently earning a decent living that allows me to own a home and build equity in it while also investing money for retirement.
In short, I am privileged. And I think it’s time to be completely honest about it.
This is a topic that I’ve been pondering for a very long time. It might have been more appropriate to call this article “Privilege (Part One)” because I’m positive that this isn’t the last I’ll have to say on it. The truth is that I feel completely inadequate to speak into an issue so important and nuanced, but the more I reflect on this subject, the more I feel compelled to speak out on it.
As I’ve said before, it is so incredibly easy for each of us to assume that our lives are the norm, that everyone else experiences the world the same way that we do. I once thought that myself. But that simply isn’t true, and the first step to understanding the concept of privilege is recognizing the ways that one’s experience differs from those of others.
The older I get, the more I realize how fortunate I am to have grown up in the circumstances I did. Because at every turn, I was experiencing privilege. I was given the circumstances, resources, and opportunities to grow, thrive, and become all that I could be. Meanwhile, many around me were not being afforded those same privileges, and I couldn’t even see it.
Below is a list of just some of the privileges I’ve enjoyed in my young life:
My family didn’t move a lot growing up, which means my education and social life were mostly uninterrupted throughout my childhood.
I always had access to plentiful, healthy food, which allowed my physical and mental development to proceed to the fullest extent. It also meant that I could focus in school and earn good grades.
My neighborhood growing up was safe, which meant that I could play outside and maintain an active lifestyle.
I didn’t have to work in high school, so I had plenty of time to study, complete homework, and develop meaningful, lifelong friendships.
My parents encouraged me in my studies, even helping me when I struggled. My whole life, they told me that I could achieve anything I set my mind to, including getting into college. And I believed them.
I have a knack for learning and test-taking. This is in no way an indication of merit or hard work on my part. I’m just good at it.
My school offered extra-curricular activities, which allowed me to explore my talents and build life skills. They looked great on college applications, too.
I had a plethora of adults in my life—teachers, church members, and family friends—who mentored me, encouraged me, and gave me opportunities to learn and grow.
Money was rarely (though not never) an issue in my family. My parents taught me to treat money like a tool and showed me through their examples how to use it and relate to it well. Budgeting, saving, debt avoidance, and generosity were principles instilled in me from a young age.
That may seem like an unnecessarily long list, but I assure you that I could go on. You may be reading this list and thinking, “What’s the big deal? I had all of that growing up, too. Everyone does.” If so, I’ll tell you this: You are, like me, extremely privileged. Be thankful.
Because though these may seem like basic things that every person should have access to, the truth is that many, many do not. And these privileges—which only certain people are given—set us up for success later in life.
Am I saying that people who don’t have these privileges can’t be successful? Of course not. Am I saying that anyone who grows up privileged is definitely going to get ahead? No, I’m not. What I am saying is that the privileges I’ve been afforded have made it much easier for me to succeed in life than someone who doesn’t have those same privileges.
It’s like if life were a race, I was given a head start, or better equipment to run with. And it’s not like I deserved it or even asked for it; I just got it. And my whole life, I’ve been relying on that extra boost to help get me where I want to go.
I can’t imagine being where I am without those privileges. Would I have gotten into college if I hadn’t been told my whole life that it was a possibility for me? Or if I had to work to support my family instead of focusing on school? What about if had a disability I was trying to overcome on top of everything else? Sure, there are people who do a lot more with a lot less, but I’m not sure that I’m strong enough to be one of them. For whatever reason, I never had to find out.
By the way, I haven’t even mentioned two other major aspects of privilege that I enjoy: I am a white man. Both my race and my biological sex afford me privileges that I would not otherwise have access to. Though we try to convince ourselves that we as a society no longer judge people by their race or sex, one simple flip through the newspaper or newsfeed proves differently. Our world is still set up to favor white men, and though I wish it weren’t that way, I do still benefit from it.
Coming from a sheltered upbringing, I never realized how unique my experience was until I became an adult and saw the world for myself. I met people of different socioeconomic backgrounds, from different races and ethnic groups, and even from different countries. And the more people I met who were different from myself, the more I understood the depth of privilege I have received.
I’ve met people who have no idea where their next meal is coming from. People who’ve been beaten down until they believe that they are nothing. People who face oppression and bigotry on a daily basis. And people who repeat the broken cycles of family mistakes because they don’t have any way of knowing life can be different for them.
And in meeting these people—many of whom I love dearly—I’ve come to see myself in a new light. There’s absolutely no difference at a fundamental level between myself and them. I’m no better than them, no more deserving than they are. There’s no reason that I should have received the privileges I did while they were forced to face life without them. The only difference between them and me is that by chance, I started off in a different place than they did.
I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t set up the systems that created it. It’s not my fault that things are this way. But I benefit from it every single day, sometimes in ways that actively harm others. Often in ways that go against my basic beliefs and principles. That is my privilege.
We’ve all heard it said that ignorance is bliss. And in the case of privilege, that is certainly true. Whereas before, I was able to live my life believing the world was fair and that everyone else had the same chance at success that I had, now I know the truth. Everything I have is in some way connected to the privileges that were afforded to me earlier in life. Even now, the same privileges are still working in my favor while others suffer without them. This is a hard truth to live with.
Unchecked and unconsidered, privilege is a blessing. But once you recognize it for what it is and look it straight in the face, privilege is ugly. It’s a beast that takes from those who don’t have enough and gives to those who already have more than they could ever need. It silences the oppressed and convinces those who benefit from it that they deserve it. That they’re somehow better than others. That their privilege is their right. And that simply is not true.
No privilege is a right unless it’s guaranteed to everyone. And the sad truth is that there are many people in our world who have little more than nothing. Don’t they deserve the same things everyone else does? Aren’t they just as human as everyone else? What right do we have to feel entitled to things that others can only wish for?
I’ve come to see my privilege as a burden, and I bear it every day. It’s nothing compared to the burdens borne by those who are struggling to survive, but it weighs on me nonetheless. It reminds me constantly of the suffering in the world and forces me to question the comfortable complacency that I so easily fall into. My privilege is a moral quandary that I am constantly turning over in my head and trying fruitlessly to solve.
What am I to do with this privilege? I can hardly give it up, at least not all of it, because I can’t change who I am or where I come from. Nor should I. I’m thankful for the privileges I’ve been given. The problem isn’t necessarily that I’ve been given too much. The problem is that others haven’t been given enough. So while I can’t undo the privilege I’ve been given, I can do my best to use it to lift others up.
I dream of a day when everyone is afforded the privileges I have. There’s more than enough to go around. It’s just going to take more people waking up to their privilege and choosing to use it for the sake of others. If I can take what I’ve been given and use it to make life better for my fellow human beings, then I consider that a worthwhile use of what I’ve been blessed with. I don’t want to waste it.
What does that look like? For me, it’s taken different forms. It’s meant being there for children in my life who don’t always have the positive adult influences they need. It’s meant being patient with people who need time to learn things I was fortunate enough to be taught long ago. It’s meant working with those in need on becoming independent. It’s meant loaning without expecting a payback and giving with as much generosity as I can afford. It’s meant giving people rides, giving people second chances, and simply hearing people out.
Checking my privilege has meant all of that and more, and I do it not because I’m particularly good or because I want to be praised. I do it because I’ve been given a lot, so I believe that I’m expected to give a lot to others.
Jesus taught as much. He said, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, even more will be expected” (Luke 12.48). For me, that expectation includes constantly checking my privilege and making sure that I’m using it to help those who don’t have it. It’s a process that will take me my entire life to master, but I’m trying, and I’m always open to listening to those who can teach me ways of doing it better.
How about you? Do you have privilege that you haven’t recognized yet? Now is the time to do so. No matter where we come from, most of us have been given some kind of privilege that others have not. Once we choose to see it, then we can start the process of learning how to use it to help others who haven’t been so fortunate. I believe that’s the only way we’ll see this world become a better place for everyone.
In my faith tradition, we say that God is in the business of redeeming the world. What that means is that God isn’t going to undo the brokenness of the world. Instead, he’s going to heal it, and he’s working through us to make it happen. I think that this is a part of it.
We can’t undo the injustices and disparities in the world today, but we can pick up the broken pieces and use our influence to turn them into something beautiful for everyone. When we do that, we’re taking part in God’s redeeming work. And I can’t think of any better use for the privileges I’ve been given.
I was given an unfair advantage in life. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true. It’s taken me a long time to recognize it, but now that I have, I’m trying to use that privilege to help others, because I believe I can use it to make the world at least a little bit better. And I believe that you can do the same. We each have the opportunity to use our privilege for the greater good if we only choose to. Will you?
I’ve always been interested in ethics. How do human beings, both individually and collectively, decide what is right and what is wrong? How do we know what should be considered good? And what happens if—or, more likely, when—we don’t agree? Who gets to decide? It’s a fascinating topic to observe.
We know the world can be a difficult place to live in, often more so for some than for others. Life is hard, and it isn’t fair. But fortunately, we’ve each been given a certain amount of influence over the quality of life on this planet. We don’t have to simply accept things as they are. Through various means, we have the ability to make a difference, to decide how the world is going to work. So how do we know what to do?
The most common answer I’ve heard is that the right decision in any given situation is the one which does the most good for the most people. This seems like a fine approach at first. If the goal is simply to create the most good, then this is the way to go. But after generations of trying this method over and over, we’ve found that it does have its flaws.
Because there are still those who don’t fall under the category of “most people.” Minorities of all kinds. The oppressed. Those whose needs society has simply decided don’t matter. These individuals don’t benefit from the “most good for the most people” approach. Instead, they get left behind to silently suffer the very evils that we’re trying to protect humanity from. Even if a decision makes the world better for 99% of people, it hardly seems fair to move forward if it makes life unbearable for even the smallest faction.
The “most good for the most people” mentally works great until you find yourself outside of the scope of its favor. Maybe you’ve never been there. To be honest, I don’t know that I have. But I do know people who have certainly fallen through the cracks, and it’s a terrible place to be. Creating the most good is a noble venture, but if it isn’t creating good for all, then it isn’t creating good at all.
In the face of this reality, some might give up on the endeavor completely. If we can’t find a way to help everyone, why bother helping anyone? Many have come to the conclusion that what’s right is simply whatever is best for them and those they care about, usually those most like them. This approach makes sense from a strictly pragmatic point of view, and it is how many people use the influence they’re given. But ultimately, it comes from a place of selfishness, which has no potential to positively impact the world and only leads to isolation. And in light of the fact that other people are people just like you and me, it seems that no person concerned with morality could actually make decisions from this perspective.
People of faith tend to claim that their understanding of right and wrong is of divine origin and thus perfect and universal. As a devout Christian myself, I do affirm the tenants of the Christian faith and believe that the world would be a better place were they put into practice fully. However, there are some problems that arise from taking this approach to solving ethical issues.
Firstly, all people are hypocrites. I don’t know why, but human beings have this baffling ability to claim that we believe one thing while simultaneously doing the exact opposite of that thing. Principles like love, peace, and grace are all beautiful and powerful, but when we fail to allow those principles to dictate our real-world actions, then we aren’t living out what we claim to believe, and there’s a huge disconnect between our faith and our real-world ethics.
Secondly, the world is a big, diverse place with a lot of different belief systems. No one religion is universal, and the very nature of faith dictates that it must be a choice. Religious beliefs and the moral actions that come as a result of them cannot be forced upon anyone. And so, it would be difficult to use any one faith (even if you believe it to be the one true faith) as the standard for ethical decision-making across the world. Regardless, any time religion mixes with power, the results are disastrous anyway.
That is not to say that our faith should not inform and influence our ethics, nor that we shouldn’t bring our faith with us when we come together to make decisions on a grand scale. At its best, faith makes us into better people, and so we must rely on it to help us make the right decisions. But a universal ethic of right and wrong can’t simply come from one group or another; we have to get there together.
A truly ethical approach to decision-making takes into account not just the needs of the majority, the benefit of the self, or the beliefs of a single group. Rather, the logical endpoint of every ethical question is that for something to be good, it must be good for everyone. Every person is a person, and every person must be considered.
I‘m not audacious enough to claim that I have all of the answers to the world’s problems. What I do have is an idea for a new starting point: What if, rather than coming from a place of scarcity, we approached the world’s problems from a place of abundance?
Because the truth is that there is enough. There’s enough money. There’s enough food. There’s enough work. There’s enough joy. There’s enough comfort. There’s enough fulfillment. There’s enough for all of us to have enough.
Far too often, we see life as a zero-sum game. If someone else gets more of something, that means I have less. But that simply isn’t the case. There’s more than enough of what we need in the world for everyone to survive, to thrive, to be all that they’re meant to be—and then some. And when we willingly sacrifice some of our abundance so that someone else can simply have enough, we aren’t losing anything at all. We’re taking our extra and turning it into someone’s enough, and in doing so, we’re creating good. Isn’t that worth so much more?
We are all in this together. We create barriers between people, families, races, nations, and more, and these boundaries are helpful to an extent. But if we aren’t careful, we can allow these human-made lines to trick us into thinking that they’re real, and the truth is that they’re not. We are all here together on this planet as one big group, and when any part of that group suffers, we all suffer because the greater good is diminished. The ultimate goal of ethics is the ultimate, big-g Good, and that means good for every last person we share this life with.
The solution to the world’s problems is not all for one. It’s not some for some. It’s not even most for most. It’s one for all, and that isn’t an idealistic dream. It’s a reality that we can create if we—each of us—choose to use our influence to make it so. May we make it so.
