I wanted to mention that I have a few spaces to take on new clients for therapy and/or meditation support. You can email me at jude.integrated@gmail.com to learn more or set up a consultation. My website also has more information about me and my approach to this work.
*This essay is inspired by current world events but it is definitely not about them. I wanted to keep my perspective out of it, but also don’t want my silence to be taken as indifference. So I added a short bit at the end that states my perspective if you’re curious.
Every so often I end up glued to the news. Some tragedy grabs my attention, and I almost feel that if I can learn enough about the issue, if I pay attention long enough to truly understand, I might just be able to solve the problem.
The idea that I, more or less just a normal guy, can solve a decades-long (or centuries-long?) conflict overseas, is totally ridiculous. And yet that’s what my mind does. That’s the nature of our minds, they seek out problems and try to solve them (and will even create problems if there aren’t any immediate ones).
The other reason I’ve noticed myself following conflict and tragedy is that it feels insensitive to turn away.
For 99.99% of human history all the tragedy and problems we faced were in our immediate environment. The conflict and violence we witnessed were local threats that demanded attention. Pain and suffering pulled at our hearts inspiring compassion and care.
We’re wired to respond to these things, to take action for the wellbeing of the collective.
Our empathetic nature has been relentlessly exploited by our modern media. This is inevitable in an advertisement driven media model. When more watch time equals revenue, media companies must show the most sensationalist content to compete.
Social media algorithms are no different. They gauge user engagement and promote the most watched content, which is of course the most extreme and sensational.
This isn’t to say that these issues aren’t important. That the world shouldn’t know about tragedy and injustice. But where should we draw the line?
Recognizing Our Impact
I can’t help but feel at least a hint of guilt when I tune out the pain of the world. If someone is in pain right in front of me, my compassionate presence is felt by them. My attention has an impact.
But for most of us, our attention to world events doesn’t have much impact. There can of course be a lot of reasons to be informed, and sometimes we can contribute to initiatives that do enact change, but how much media and graphic imagery do we need to expose ourselves to?
This is for each of us to decide. To make this decision for ourselves, and draw the line where it makes sense for us and our unique situation and interests.
To help you figure out where to draw this line for yourself, I employ you to examine where you have impact in the world, and where you would like to have impact.
We all have an impact somewhere. We impact the people we encounter on a daily basis, likely more than we realize. When you meet someone with presence and kindness, that is felt. When you meet someone coldly, or with scattered anxiety, that is also felt.
Take a moment and think about the areas of your life where you impact others.
Explore how you’d like to impact others.
And now ask yourself if the media you consume is helping or hurting the impact you have on others.
This is my formula. Something I need to continually remind myself of.
It’s so easy to get drawn into world events that seem important, or even celebrity drama that clearly isn’t important. There’s no shame in these things, they trigger an inherited part of our nature that wants to understand our environment. But we need to discern what is actually our environment, and what is outside our reach.
To have a meaningful impact on the world, we need to take care of ourselves. We need to honor our empathetic nature and be careful with what we take on. Living in a state of perpetual crisis only wears us down and diminishes our energy and our capacity to act and care for and be present with the important people in our lives.
Take care of yourself. Take care of the people in your immediate environment. Don’t get caught in the neverending trap of crisis fatigue, it doesn’t do any good to anyone.
Bonus: The best way to protect against empathetic burnout is not to shut ourselves down, but actually to practice compassion. I made a video about this here.
My Take On The Current Conflict
I am far from being well informed on this topic which makes me hesitant to speak publicly on it. But I do think it’s helpful for people to speak up when they see injustice.
It’s clear to me that when you don’t give people a peaceful path to freedom and autonomy, the inevitable result will be violence. Israel is in the position of power here, and in my view the onus is on them to help find a peaceful resolution in which the Palestinians can find freedom. Like many of the pundits I’m reading, I put the primary blame for this current conflict on Netanyahu for continuing to oppress Palestinians and withholding their freedom. He should be making more of an effort towards a peaceful resolution, and be willing to make major compromises to do so.
Of course I am not condoning the violence and attacks on innocent people, but just saying violence seems like an inevitability when you deny people basic freedoms. I know this is a complex and nuanced issue, but continued oppression is not a solution.
I like the term "crisis fatigue". Here is a quote I discovered last week, from Ivan Illich. I think it overlaps with some of the points you're making about bounded compassion:
"I want to live with the inescapable horror of these children, of these persons, in my heart and know that I cannot actively, really, love them. Because to love them — at least the way I am built, after having read the story of the Samaritan — means to leave aside everything which I’m doing at this moment and pick up that person. It means taking whatever I have with me, in my little satchel of golden denarii, and bringing the guy to an inn — which then meant a brothel — as that Palestinian did to the Jew who had fallen into the hands of robbers, and saying, “Please take care of this guy. When I return I hope I’ll have made a little bit more money and I’ll pay you for any extra expenditures.”
I have absolutely no intention, if I’m sincere, of leaving this writing desk, these index cards, these files, or selling that little antique Mexican sculpture which I bought for a dollar but which might be worth $500 if I find the right antiquarian in New York, and taking that money to go to the Sahel and take that child in my arms. I have no intention, because I consider it impossible. Why pretend that I care? Thinking that I care, first, impedes me from remembering what love would be; second, trains me not to be in that sense loving with the person who is waiting outside this door; and, third, stops me from taking the next week off and going and chaining myself to the door of some industry in New York which has a part in the ecological disaster in the Sahel."