Like most celebrities, one question I’ve grown to hate is, “Grinch, how does it feel being famous?” Not that fame isn’t cool or whatnot (it actually sucks), but people never stop think about what it feels like to have one of the most painful experiences of your life repeatedly turned into entertainment for children. And that’s not even counting the reboots. I went from being an outcast on a fucking mountain to a multimedia global franchise.
A redemption story like mine should transform you. I should be breaking down my new spiritual outlook on Super Soul Sunday with Oprah. “You see, Oprah,” I’d say, crossing my legs and placing a contemplative green hand on my chin, “I learned an important word. And that word is gratitude.”
Although things are basically cool with me and the citizens down there in Whoville, it just didn’t work out like that. And seeing my trauma trivialized on the 24-hour media cycle eroded my sense of empathy in ways I didn’t expect.
Maybe that cycle has had the same effect on you. There’s just so much suffering and injustice beaming out of our screens. It's endless! There's Ukraine. The melting of the poles. Police killings. The war on women. The war on trans kids. Elon buying twitter (yikes—scary!!). And we haven’t even touched the latest horror—the war on reproductive rights.
Our brains weren't developed to process this much information. Not to mention misinformation and disinformation. Tech companies—whose business model incentivizes them to keep us engaged at all costs—attract the brightest minds to develop more and more insidious ways to “drive engagement.” You could be in your grave and they'll still be trying to get you click on an alert. (Alert: you're dead!)
The inability to “care” due to overexposure of emotionally draining events is a real thing. It’s called empathy fatigue, a term coined by Professor Mark Stebnicki of East Carolina University. And with the constant stimulus of bad news, its easy to understand why people eventually arrive at “What’s the point?”
The need for balance is obvious. Because unplugging completely isn't tenable for anyone who cares about virtually anything. But for your own sanity—not to mention basic effectiveness as a human being—you need to focus your efforts and time on a finite set of issues.
So how do we decide what gets prioritized? With more than enough triggers to cause us to check out emotionally, how do we check back in? Who's the winner of the Oppression Olympics, who comes out on top of the Hunger Games competition for our empathy?
Selective empathy
Let's talk for a minute about trans rights.
A friend—a genuinely good person—once asked if it was really worth getting into it with the right-wing crazies over trans issues, and if our efforts aren’t better placed elsewhere. Behind that sentiment lies a cold calculation about trans issues.
AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT SELECTIVE EMPATHY BREEDS IN ALL OF US. The calculation: Just let them have this one—this “minor” anti-trans law, or limited abortion ban, or whatever it is—in the name of saving our efforts for more important issues. Of course, we’ll circle back eventually and do the right thing right after this next election/more immediate need/thing I am more comfortable with. Less empathy means less solidarity and less feeling like we’re all in this together.
Research proves we have plenty of empathy for friends and family, but find it difficult to muster more than the bare minimum for anybody else. That’s what selective empathy is. We are wired to see a reflection of ourselves before we extend empathy. Because empathy is hard! It’s a pain in the ass. It’s emotional and mental labor. We look for reasons to withhold.
This brings us back to trans rights. You might have questions. And if you truly want to educate yourself, that’s great. But beware lest your questions are just an excuse to withhold solidarity. Because when we understand groups of people solely on the basis of their group attributes—gender, sexual orientation, class, religion, race, etc.—we neglect their actual lived experience and basic humanity.
To put this even more plainly: Why should anyone have to present their identity in way that you find comprehensible in order to deserve safety and freedom? Why is your solidarity contingent on how anyone presents themselves?
It's analogous to pronouncing people's names correctly. You don't need to know “where did you come from originally?” or “where is your family from?” or “what kind of name is that anyway?” in order to perform the simple basic courtesy of saying their name the right way.
Deep media deep bias also drives how current events are curated for consumption, and in turn, impact our expressions of empathy. There are forces beyond our control that widen the empathy chasm between us every day. That’s why we must be more honest about the humans at the center of our conversations—and how they got there.
The empathy business
Being intentional about putting people at the center of our conversations isn’t some exercise in emoting to turn us all into Care Bears (no shade at that franchise though—game recognizes game and those fucking bears had a hell of a run). CEOs have acknowledged that empathy is a critical driver of business success. The push to build empathic cultures is on the rise as the boundaries between work and our personal lives continue to become blurry. Companies must figure out ways to not treat people as merely means of maximizing productivity, but as human beings with families and personal struggles trying to navigate life with grace and love.
Since culture starts with people, an obvious way to build an empathic culture is to hire empathic employees. Research shows that when social norms become more complex and inter-connectedness is on the rise, people gravitate towards what others do, not what they’re told to do. People do right when surrounded by other people who do right. This means having highly empathetic employees is important to an organization that’s scaling to serve more diverse customers and communities. One way to do this is to hire for emotional intelligence and train for everything else.
An empathic culture is important because the world is more interconnected than ever. We now have the tools to create, collaborate, and operate at a scale that transcends borders and culture. This means that not just our tolerance but our ability to empathize with others must increase. Especially if you are in a role that relies on emotional connection, such as healthcare workers, social workers, teachers, HR professionals, and even frontline managers. The return on investment is an increased sense of trust and belonging that directly impacts motivation and productivity. Go figure!
Self-compassion and Ubuntu
So, Grinch, are you telling me I’m a self-absorbed douchebag if I don’t care about every current event that deserves my empathy? No, not at all. There is nothing more fatigue-inducing than the self-inflicted pressure to post the latest #istandwith hashtag to signal your solidarity or earn your daily wokeness badge.
Besides, there’s no way in hell we can care about every catastrophic human event. Even if we could, that doesn’t guarantee a consensus in our perception of said event. My comedic peer Hasan Minaj had a brilliant take that the culture war issues we are facing on a 24-hour loop is a recurring Rorschach test, measuring everyone’s difference in perception.
What I am actually asking is for you to start with self-compassion. I am asking you to treat yourself with kindness and be non-judgmental as you accept the things that are beyond your control. Self-compassion is about boundaries. This is how we combat empathy fatigue.
The stronger your ability to show compassion to yourself, the stronger your ability to show compassion to others. Why? Because in order to get over feelings of self-criticism, self-judgment, or even survivor’s guilt, you have to ask yourself, “How accurate are my perceptions?” This helps you extend the same courtesy to others.
You add that to a belief in a common humanity, you create an empathy flywheel. When you see your experience as a part of a larger human experience, rather than an individual one, you care less about your perception of any particular event, and empathy leads you to care about people impacted by that event—which ultimately means all of us. Self-compassion creates the boundaries to ensure our efforts towards justice and liberation are sustainable.
Let’s elevate our minds to the Zulu spirit of Ubuntu: “I am because we are.” (Ubuntu was also the theme of 2008 Boston Celtics, the last and only time it was acceptable to support the Celtics.) If our shared experience of the supply chain, environment, and pandemic should’ve taught us anything, it’s that me caring about you = me caring about me.