An Era of Empathy Deficit

Imagine you scroll through your Instagram feed. Stop for a minute and asses how often you are bombarded with images of human suffering. Then asses how often you expect yourself to viscerally mourn every post. Now imagine a different situation; one where you don’t place that pressure on yourself. But the former is the reality of the age of digital activism.

Walking through Notting Hill last week, a friend expressed frustration with herself: “When I first drove past Grenfell, just after it happened, I burst into tears at how awful and unjust it was. But we’ve literally just walked past and I’m so numb. I’m so annoyed with myself that I’m not more upset!” I think this sentiment encapsulates our issue because simply put, we aren’t built to feel outraged and upset to the extent that online activism seems to demand.

We would all wholeheartedly agree that death or another’s strife should elicit sorrow, right? Except the human brain is utterly incapable of processing human suffering on the level at which we must consume such a volume of distressing media. And not simply acknowledging how awful it is, but processing and internalising that sorrow, being wracked with distress, and then channelling that to empathy. Factor in complete emotional and physical detachment from these horrifying situations and it’s a perfect storm for an empathy deficit. Sure, we can sympathise. But how can we truly expect ourselves to extend our empathy a hundred times a day? Simply put, we’d lose all sanity.

There’s a wealth of evidence that indicates the vast majority of us are addicted to technology. On top of that, the presence of a negative bias within the media that we choose to incessantly scroll through – whether on social media feeds or news apps – may only confirm your deepest suspicions that the world is slowly burning.

This can create a whole host of issues for the modern “online activist.” The nature of digital activism demands performativity – we face an interpersonal pressure to “show up” – scared that if we don’t continuously, mindlessly repost infographics we will be accused of not caring. This interpersonal pressure often results in people simply cultivating an image. Those who consistently “show up” are hailed as the bastion of human decency. But what about people who would prefer to engage in more traditional forms of activism, such as attending protests or donating? What about those who try and distance themselves from social networks? The pressure of digital activism can feel like Atlas’ weight, catapulting us into incessant action – we may not always be quite sure what that action entails, but we know that it’s something!

However, this means that we’re constantly processing distressing news, often of events that we simply can’t do anything about because, unfortunately, simply “showing up” on Insta stories won’t dent the wealth of human misery that we’re confronted with every single day. We’re unable to take a break unless we remove ourselves from technology altogether. It can feel as though you’re flailing under the weight of ever-crashing waves, pulled in every which way by the current of the latest afflicted headline. Why is it that we just can’t seem to resist the tantalizing clutches of emotional distress?

Internet outrage culture means that causes often lose their momentum as quickly as they spring up. Infographics are great tools for summarising pockets of information (when people can be bothered to read them) but they can abstract ideas and situations which require more in-depth, critical thinking. It’s easy to feel like an expert on everything when people are getting so used to having all of their information handed to them, rather than feeling that they need to do any individual research.

So, how do we battle this empathy deficit? Do we truly even want to?

As someone who was always referred to (and never politely) as a “social justice warrior” in school, I understand this ever-pressing need to feel as if you’re doing something for each and every cause you encounter online. However, self-care – in the digital detox and not the candle-lit bubble bath sense – isn’t selfish.

Instead, focus your attention and energy on the things that you really care about. Don’t be swayed into blindly supporting causes without feeling like you’re educated or passionate enough, or engaging in a full-throttle social media campaign for a cause that requires years of dedicated action – you’ll simply burn out, or get flustered if someone starts asking too many questions. This will help to combat the total empathy deficit you may feel when doomscrolling on Twitter.

It can be easy to fall into the trap of using up all of your energy on the latest “thing that people are angry about”. Direct your activism into longitudinal causes that spark passion within you. It’s where your energy is best placed.

Good luck and happy doomscrolling – it’s a minefield out there!

Written by Emily Taylor-Davies

Emily is an English and French undergrad at King's College London and works part-time as French Language ambassador. When she isn't staring into the abyss of Microsoft Teams, Emily loves reading about Art History, fangirling over Virginia Woolf, and discovering cool new coffee shops.