#010 Does your empathy come with conditions?
The Language Matters Memo, a monthly newsletter from Sadia Siddiqui, focused on fostering more inclusive language and a progressive discourse.
Hello and welcome to the November issue of The Language Matters Memo. This month's mini-essay explores the topic of empathy, who we readily show it for, and whether it’s conditional. I also share a guide on how you can build your empathetic muscle. Before I get into those topics, I have a scene-specific TV recommendation for you.
Sex Education Series 4 (specifically Episode 6: 45:01)
© Netflix
The fourth season of Sex Education was Netflix's most-watched series launch of 2023 - amassing 25.4M views within weeks of its release. For those unfamiliar with the show, the story centres around Otis, a British teenager and his sex therapist mother. When Otis meets a rebellious yet business-savvy fellow student, Maeve, they plot to set up a "clinic" where they impart relationship advice for a small fee. The show follows their many antics whilst also introducing us to discussions of feminism, faith, gender, sexuality and, crucially, where these issues intersect.
One of the key relationships in the show is between the protagonist, Otis Milburn, played by Asa Butterfield and his BFF, Eric Effiong, played beautifully by Ncuti Gatwa. The two characters are diametrically opposite; Otis is white, an atheist, heterosexual and socially awkward. Eric is gay, Christian, Black and a social butterfly.
Although these differences aren't a topic of focus from series one to three, series finales are designed to tie up all the loose ends before we bid farewell to the characters, and that’s why the scene from Episode 6 (45:01) was so important.
Otis and Eric's relationship has evolved considerably over the academic year, and he's found a new friendship circle that leads to Otis feeling excluded and consequently pulling away from Eric. Some time passes, and Eric confronts Otis and raises an issue we haven't seen them discuss before - their differences.
Eric tells Otis, "...they never talk about our differences" and that "There are parts of my life that you really don't understand. We don't talk about race, for example....I guess I'm trying to say we're really different and we don't really talk about that".
Otis reacts badly, accusing Eric of "blaming him" for their differences and promptly changes the subject.
The reason I wanted to shine a light on this exchange is that I think it's very relatable for anyone who has been in a relationship (platonic or otherwise) with someone who does not share aspects of their marginalised identities - be that race, faith, gender or sexuality. In my experience as a South Asian Muslim woman - highlighting my ethnicity and or my faith results in too many of my white friends disregarding these differences and being unwilling to see how they might impact how I move through this world versus the way they do.
I don't think the writers of Sex Education were suggesting that racialised/LGBTQIA+ people can only have friendships with other racialised/LGBTQIA+ friends. More so, it was an acknowledgement that it's easier to be yourself around people who really get you - not just your interests but things that are deeper and more cellular.
In the finale, we see Otis overcome his discomfort. He confesses to Eric that his tendency to shut things down stems from not knowing how to discuss these topics, acknowledges how this impacts Eric, and promises to do better (Episode 8, 34:54).
This scene was sandwiched amongst more significant storylines, but it was such a pivotal moment - where Otis saw Eric as the complete being that he is.
Here's for more Otis-like realisations and less of us having to dim aspects of ourselves to be accepted.
That call for a better understanding of each other leads nicely into this month's mini-essay.
Does your empathy come with conditions?
If you follow me on Instagram, you'll know that this is a topic I return to often - as an empath, it fascinates me.
My first understanding of conditional empathy came in the aftermath of the devastating 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami. It was heartbreaking to witness the devastation, and I remember thinking, rather cynically, I'll admit, that it was unusual for a natural disaster in this part of the world to garner the levels of coverage that this catastrophe was rightly getting.
I acknowledge this isn't the most pleasant of thoughts to have, but I wasn't alone in thinking this; many commentators highlighted that the reason why it gained so much traction was that seemingly many of the victims were white and from the Global North and therefore deemed more worthy of the in-depth TV coverage.
Although I'd always been aware of this media phenomenon, it was disheartening to witness that empathy was sometimes not only conditional but an essential requirement of that empathy was relatability.
This feeling of unease surfaced again in 2022 when Russia invaded Ukraine. It felt particularly unnerving because, unlike other armed conflicts, this felt very close to those of us based in the UK. Over the next few days, all our work meetings started with a discussion about Ukraine and a check-in on how everyone felt. No one in my multicultural and diverse team was Ukrainian, but there was no question about our ability to relate to the Ukrainian people and what they were experiencing. I also contacted the two friends I know with Ukrainian heritage to check that they and their families were okay, just as one would when someone's home nation is impacted by a crisis - natural or otherwise.
As many of us will know, reporting of the Ukrainian conflict was sometimes problematic and laden with bias. As an example, CBS News foreign correspondent Charlie D’Agata said, "This isn’t a place, with all due respect, you know, like Iraq or Afghanistan that has seen conflict raging for decades,” and “You know, this is a relatively civilised, relatively European… city.” He later apologised for his comments.
Over the next few weeks, we heard other news outlets describe the Ukrainian victims as "different", unlike the usual "Middle Eastern refugees". These people were “white,” “Christian,” “middle class,” “blonde”, and “blue-eyed.” Their commentary inferred that people who lacked these characteristics were somehow more deserving of their suffering and that conflict was somehow natural when inflicted on Black and brown bodies.
I found it mind-blowing that criteria needed to be met for some in the West to feel something for someone who wasn’t like them.
Several months later, Pakistan, where my parents hail from, experienced extreme and catastrophic floods that impacted two of the country's four provinces. Environmentalists described it as an ocean opening up in the middle of the country, resulting in 1,739 deaths, 12,867 injuries and 30 million people displaced.
Thankfully, my extended family were not directly or materially impacted but were left looking on helplessly. The following statement isn't designed to shame the lovely colleagues I worked with then, but this devastating event and its aftermath went unmentioned. Although it was covered extensively on the news and social media, no one brought up the subject with me or asked after my family. Coming months after our heartfelt conversations regarding Ukraine - the contrast felt hurtful as someone with a direct and familial bond with those flooded lands.
My intention in sharing this is not to shame anyone, as there is no value or learning in that exercise - when people are made to feel ashamed, they become less receptive to having their personal views challenged. Instead, I want to use this example to ask some questions about our ability to empathise, as I hypothesise that it might be more complex than we think it might be. There may be nuances, conditions, and clauses that we have yet to consider.
So why do people lack empathy? Why are some lives deemed more important than others?
As the heartbreaking crisis continues to evolve in Israel and Gaza, Palestine, this question has become even more front of mind. Whilst most right-minded people are horrified by any form of violence, some have gone from being fully-fledged anti-racists in the Summer of 2020 following the murder of George Floyd to being 'ok' with collective punishment in the form of carpet bombing and civilian hostage-taking.
It's not an overestimation to say that this crisis has changed many of us. We've seen things on social media that no one should ever have to see, let alone endure. It is humanity at its absolute worst.
Whilst most people can and do demonstrate empathy for everyone directly involved and impacted, there are instances in media reporting where there has been a complete lack of empathy for the Palestinian people, as well as the atrocities faced by innocent Israeli civilians on October 7th. This dehumanisation explains the horrifying rise in antisemitism and Islamophobia we're currently experiencing—the inability of others to see each other's humanity, their individuality, their wholeness.
Thankfully, these people are in the minority despite what our Governments may think, say or do.
It would be remiss to mention Gaza without acknowledging the other crises unfolding worldwide - from Sudan to Ethiopia, to Congo to Nagorno-Karabakh - thousands of innocent people are being caught up in deadly violence. I don’t think these issues are being discussed enough by the mainstream media, but one of the essential lessons Summer 2020 should have taught us is that allyship is not transactional and should not have any limitations or conditions. Our hearts have the capacity to expand accordingly and act wherever and whenever we see inequality.
Are we born with empathy, or is it learned?
Empathy is understanding how others feel and showing compassion towards them. According to neuroscientists, this happens when two parts of the brain work together. The emotional centre evaluates the feelings of others, and the cognitive centre seeks to understand the reasons behind those feelings and interrogates how we can be helpful to them.
What stands in the way of our empathy?
Most of us exist in our little worlds populated by people who look like us, vote like us, are educated, earn, spend, and worship like us. This isolation can result in an empathy deficit, a phenomenon that sociologists say is at the heart of many of our society's most pressing issues. The homogeneity of our social circles and our natural inclination to hold biases means we're often reluctant to challenge our worldviews.
The good news is that far from being a fixed trait, empathy can be taught and is proven to make people better managers, workers, family members and friends.
Here are five things you can try to help build your empathetic muscle:
1. Admit that you have biases.
We’re all biased. Acknowledging that is the first step. The second step is taking action to overcome it.
2. Talk to new people:
Curiosity goes hand in hand with empathy. When we ask questions without preconceived notions, assumptions and fetishisations, we see the wholeness of people and what we have in common versus what separates us.
Research shows us that exposure to people with different backgrounds reduces prejudice. One of the most quoted studies of this is by Stanford University and has become colloquially known as the Mo Salah Effect.
Researchers observed that Liverpool's star forward's presence had noticeably changed the local communities' perceptions of Muslims. They found that upon Egyptian-born Salah joining Liverpool FC, levels of hate crime in Merseyside had decreased relative to other British counties, and anti-Muslim speech had declined in the Twitter accounts of Liverpool fans compared with those of other soccer teams’ enthusiasts. When fans were reminded that Salah is an observant Muslim, they were significantly more likely to say that "Islam was compatible with British values". Clearly, there is a degree of parasocial-contact hypotheses at play here, but it demonstrates that exposure to others helps minimise previously held biases.
3. Read varied types of fiction:
Reading is a magical act that can transport us to another time and space - allowing us to experience the world as another gender, ethnicity, culture, sexuality, profession, age, and time. It's, therefore, one of the easiest ways to learn something new whilst unlearning a preconceived notion.
[In next month’s newsletter, I'll share my Top 10 Reads for teaching us about cultures we may not have been exposed to previously].
4. Spend time in unfamiliar, new environments:
This is the most difficult one of all. We're all content bobbing around the places we like with people we like, but it can lead to a narrow mindset and impact our ability to be empathetic.
An unfamiliar environment might involve visiting someone else’s church, mosque, synagogue, or other house of worship for a few weeks or shopping at a street market that may be at risk due to the recent gentrification of your neighbourhood. You’ll be able to identify the most relevant scenario for yourself based on a community you might not know much about.
5. Join forces for a shared cause:
Working on a project with others reinforces everyone’s humanity and minimises the differences that often divide people. Rachel Godsil, a professor at Rutgers University and co-founder of the Perception Institute, which researches how humans form biases, found that when women from the former Yugoslavia joined together across ethnic groups to help find the missing bodies of family members, they came to care for and respect each other despite their ethnic groups’ conflicts.
Similarly, Israeli and Palestinian families who have lost an immediate family member to the violence come together in a group called Parents Circle — Families Forum. This group’s vital work is currently and understandably on hold, but I can't think of a better group or initiative that will help pave the way for a brighter, safer, secure future for the region's people 🙏🏾.
That's it for another month. I hope you've found what I have shared helpful. Please drop any comments below, and I'll see you next month.
Take care of yourself and one another,
IMPORTANT FOOTNOTE:
I wanted to add this as an essential footnote given that stating what should be obvious has become necessary in these increasingly charged times; I maintain two things can be true at once - you can be horrified by the violence enacted by Hamas on innocent Israeli civilians on October 7th and in the same breath be horrified by the utter devastation that that the Israeli government is unleashing on the people of Gaza, half of whom are children. Everyone in the region is hurting, and my feelings, concern and hurt for those directly impacted are not mutually exclusive. We should refuse demands to make a binary choice - to elevate one life over another and to forfeit anyone's humanity. Palestinians and Israelis deserve to live in peace. Actual peace with self-determination and full humanitarian, legal and social rights denied to those who are Palestinian. I join the many loud calls for a complete ceasefire, the safe return of all the hostages and independent peace talks that bring long-term change and an end to the occupation.
Thank you for another beautiful and inspiring and insightful newsletter xox
This is a thorough and very accessible explanation of empathy, and our culturally imposed limits on it. Thank you!
I would add that being able to do the same things on your list necessitates a willingness to feel discomfort (the "growing pains" of confronting our "shadow side," and/or the vulnerability and fear that often accompany conflict.) If we aren't willing to be uncomfortable, we won't be open to growth, and we will be defensive in conflict instead of seeking equitable resolution. Personally, I use my meditation practice to guide me in this, but there are many other ways to develop a consistent practice, depending on each person's preferences, physiology, and external considerations. Whatever the chosen method, an intentional, consistent practice is a necessary part of unlearning the damaging parts of our social conditioning.