Anxiety & the Apocalypse

October 12: The complexity of compassion

I've noticed an interesting phenomenon since COVID happened – a diminishing of compassion. Whether you're vaccinated or unvaccinated, liberal or conservative, empathy seems to be at an all-time low.

When a particularly vocal, hateful, batshit crazy conspiracy theorist contracts COVID, it's hard to not feel that some sort of karma is at play. In response, vaccinated people will often comment 'good', or 'oh well', or simply the classic 'That's a shame' Jerry Seinfeld gif.

I also have felt these feelings, and thought these thoughts. There is some small satisfaction, some sense of justice, in seeing a bad person taken down a peg.

And then I'd think to myself – ugh, what has become of me. Wishing people ill? Feeling nothing about strangers dying? Should I be concerned about this?

It's safe to say that with the world being as divided as it is right now, anyone who has a different point of view from you is often dehumanized. News stories are purposely divisive, always seeking out extra clicks, comments and reactions.

Then you find yourself trudging through the marshy swampland that is comment sections, hating humanity and their shitty opinions more and more with every typo-riddled sentence you read.

The odd thing is, some of those comments literally aren't human. Bots have become a part of the social media landscape. And since the misinformation campaign orchestrated by Russia leading up to the 2016 election came to light, it's become abundantly clear that you never know who you're talking to online – if they're a troll, a bot, or someone whose job it is to sow division.

Watching The Social Dilemma documentary made it even more clear that our social feeds are just an echo chamber that serve up more and more of what you believe to be true; you're caught in an endless loop of having your opinion validated, and opposing views denigrated. Is it any wonder that by the time you see a bad news story about someone with views in sharp opposition to yours, you feel next to nothing about their pain or plight?

Back in October of 2020 when Trump contracted COVID, the world went mad for a day. I still remember waking up to see that news story; my jaw dropped and eyes bulged wider than they ever do before 10am. Trump is a horrible person so I felt nothing but shock at the news, and a casual curiosity about if he'd die or not. I didn't feel bad for him or wish him well. But many were chastised for feeling this way. "Where's your compassion?!" people demanded of those who laughed at the pain of his Nazi followers.

I guess I'd say that my compassion went out the window when he said that COVID was all a hoax. Or when he said that it was all a ploy to make him lose the election, and assured his followers that it would magically disappear afterwards. Trump showed no concern or care for those who caught COVID, became seriously ill with it, or died from it.

And yet, I'm apparently supposed to dig down and find some fresh reserve of empathy for a man who has shown time and time again that he himself doesn't possess an ounce of empathy for others?

Someone posted on Twitter saying: "Republicans lecturing us about empathy is so rich." And it truly was. Questions like "Aren't you supposed to be the party of compassion?" were hurled at leftists, to make us sit in a corner, think about what we've done, and ponder if maybe we're not the good people we always thought we were.

I have a different question though: why is it my job to pump out compassion endlessly for every single person, regardless of how abhorrent their values and behaviour might be? Do I have to bleed love from every orifice, no matter the condition, no matter a person's character?

I have to be kind to those who are cruel, and their job is to just... be horrible forever, scoop up whatever compassion they can glean from me when they're feeling down, and never offer me any kindness in return?