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Empathy is a relationship between two people, whereas most moral concerns involve whole populations, argues Jesse Prinz from The City University of New York (Getty Images)
Psychology tells us that empathy arises for people who are similar to us, which can have serious implications on our ability to make sound moral judgements, writes Joe Gelonesi. He speaks to empathy sceptic Jesse Prinz about why emotions like anger might be more successful in motivating us to act.
In 2006, US President Barack Obama began a public conversation on a curious human feeling, and he’s been talking about it ever since. Others have been quick to follow suit, making empathy the emotion du jour.
Once you see someone as fundamentally other, fundamentally different, empathy turns off like a switch.
Bookshops swell with empathy self-help publications. Go online, and you’ll find the five types of empathy, and the seven healthy habits of empathetic people.
Experiments are conducted on rats, peer-reviewed papers are published on mirror neurons, and authors stride the talk-circuit promoting the wonders of walking in someone else’s shoes.
Let’s not forget that Obama famously compared the dangers of an empathy deficit to the big hole in the federal budget.
It feels right and proper that this sentiment be afforded the space to grow. What’s not to like? In contrast to sympathy, which can be categorised as a distanced, third-person emotional response to others, empathy calls for a deep imaginative commitment which draws one into the emotional space of the other.
With the rise in our collective appreciation for empathy, it feels somewhat off beam to feel suspicious about it, as philosopher Jesse Prinz describes.
‘Saying that you’re against empathy is like saying that you’re against puppy dogs,’ he says.
Jesse Prinz is a distinguished professor at the City University of New York, and has been prolific with his research into emotions. His books and articles have probed the nature of emotional and psychological responses, from gut-reactions to fully formed moral constructions.
He follows the lead of chief sentimentalist David Hume, who analysed the power of emotions in our daily lives. Core sentimentalism, however, doesn’t get in the way of clear-eyed assessment.
‘I do think that these [empathy] self-help books do give us this sense of a panacea,' he says. 'There are investments and government programs dedicated to increasing empathy. That is simply a misallocation of resources.'
Prinz is uncompromising, seeing empathy as potentially more harmful than helpful in the moral domain.
‘The suggestion that empathy is necessary for morality can be interpreted in at least three ways: it’s necessary for moral judgement; it’s necessary for moral development; and it’s necessary for motivating moral conduct. I think each of these conjectures is false.’
Related: Moral tribes and the gap between us and them
This judgement sounds harsh to modern ears, perhaps because the term empathy is only about 100 years old. It is a creation of our modern sensibility.
It is thought that psychologist Edward Titchener introduced the term into the English language in 1909, as the translation of the German term ‘Einfühlung’, or ‘feeling into’.
Empathy, however, could have a longer tradition in moral philosophy, traced through the work of Hume and Adam Smith. Both thinkers used the term sympathy in ways which remind us of its more desirable contemporary cousin.
What is empathy as we have come to know it? Prinz sees it as not one unified emotion, but rather as an active disposition.
‘It can be described to be the capacity to have vicarious emotion,' says Prinz. 'You see someone in great danger and you have the capacity to take on the experience of their fear.'
'The key is that it is a fundamentally social response. It shows that our emotions are not just narcissistic but are calibrated to the conditions of other people around us.’
This suggests a form of emotional contagion, where a feeling can be caught almost like a fast-working virus, and typically this is how empathy is understood. Therefore, it seems reasonable to see empathy as a necessary precursor to sound moral functioning. Reasonable, but ultimately wrong, according to Prinz.
‘I have come to think that despite the appeal of empathy as a kind of fellow feeling; a kind of connectedness between persons, it is a somewhat dangerous emotion when it comes to moral decision making.’
Prinz’s principle objections hinge on empathy’s great strength: its capacity to secure close-bonding.
‘Empathy is very dyadic; it’s a relationship between two individuals. But the most egregious moral concerns are really about whole populations.’
‘When you think about global poverty, you’re dealing with masses of people in great jeopardy. Empathy is not considered to be engaged by such situations, or cases of great injustice, of policy decisions that lead to discrepant distribution of wealth.’
Prinz is well versed in the extensive psychological work that has focused on emotions, and cites published evidence to reinforce his claim of the impotence of empathy in the face of larger impersonal challenges.
‘What psychology tells about empathy is that it tends not to arise in a group context. It also tends to arises for people who are similar to us.'
'If you are worried about the moral conditions of the members of another group, maybe another ethnic group, people in the developing world or even another country—empathy is not likely to be engaged.’
Feeling detached from distant woe is one thing but even if the right trigger is pulled, the psychology can still misfire.
‘What’s worse is that even when empathy is engaged, there is some evidence from the psychology that it is not particularly motivating,’ says Prinz.
‘This vicarious distress is itself a kind of incapacitating response. When somebody else suffers and you catch their suffering, you become disabled by that feeling. You are now lacking in the ability to do anything precisely because you’ve joined them in their misery.’
Related: How to boost your empathy
If the aim is to stir moral action, as Prinz sees it, we should grey out empathy and instead look to a hotter hue.
‘If you think about the outrage we experience when we think about injustice, or when we think about major problems of global poverty that have structural or political origins, outrage can be extremely motivating.’
Prinz reads the psychology one way—if you want to take a real and lasting stab at social justice, your first port of call should be good old fashion anger.
‘Feelings like outrage at injustice are much more successful at motivating moral emotions than the vicarious forms of distress felt through empathy,’ he says.
The idea that anger should be the first response—and a more reliable one at that—seems counterintuitive. Aren’t we told to be careful with fits of pique, as they can lead to unintended consequences? Disgust comes with the same product warning. Prinz admits the drawback.
‘I do think every emotion has its dangers. Emotions are made for the here and now; they are quick and dirty methods of responding to an immediate situation. Because of that, they are often not informed by the kinds of reflection that would be ideal in making a perfect moral decision.’
‘What we really need is a more considered, reflective emotional response.’
Here, Prinz invokes a two-step process: first raw emotion, then reason.
‘If someone does something that irritates you, and you write an incensed email right away, it’s often a mistake. But suppose now that you sit on it for a while, and you still feel angry—in reflection that anger remains—then it’s a pretty good guide on being wronged.’
Prinz lists eight objections to empathy as a reliable guide to moral action. They all address same core issue: the distortions of in-grouping. He reaches into evolutionary theory to explain.
‘When we think about how human sociality evolved, we are dealing with small groups of homogenous individuals. Empathy is exceptionally well-suited for that ... In fact it’s vital for successful interpersonal relationships.’
‘But when we’re dealing with moral issues, we need to take a stance that’s disconnected from our particular group memberships. Empathy is ill-suited to that.’
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Listen to the full segment on The Philosopher's Zone, and hear why empathy has the potential to do more harm than good.
For Prinz, real and enduring change for the better must necessarily be built on a more secure footing. To drive the point home, he raises perhaps the most difficult of our home-grown social justice issues.
‘If you think about the Australian context populated as a result of colonisation, some would say near genocide, or the North American example where the same is true, compounded by the further moral crime of slavery—these particular cases of human atrocities.’
‘Some of the most egregious example of human immorality in our recent history are really dependent on group difference—on the fact that we are able to dehumanise someone by seeing them as fundamentally different from us.’
‘Empathy is very, very susceptible to that kind of dehumanisation.’
Jesse Prinz leaves us in no doubt about the dangers of relying on such a feel-good disposition, even if it ultimately means gainsaying the President of the United States.
‘Once you see someone as fundamentally other, fundamentally different, empathy turns off like a switch.’
The simplest questions often have the most complex answers. The Philosopher's Zone is your guide through the strange thickets of logic, metaphysics and ethics.
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Susan Maushart meets a few of the estimated 300,000 Australians for whom binary gender definitions just don't cut it. Also in this issue: stunt people, matriarchal societies and the gay voice.
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