In May 2007, an artist named Wafaa Bilal moved into a stark, white room in Chicago. Inside it, along with a bed and a desk, was a paintball gun affixed with a webcam. For an entire month, Wafaa lived as a pixelated target, livestreamed to the internet, as some 80 million internet users from 128 countries took control of the gun, aiming and firing. He was shot 70,000 times. Why did he endure this? To make the abstract horror of remote warfare brutally real.
Wafaa, an Iraqi-born artist, had lost his brother in an airstrike in 2004. He recalled watching an interview with an American soldier directing drone strikes from thousands of miles away, completely disconnected from the devastation. Wafaa's performance, "Domestic Tension," was a visceral protest. Online, the suffering became a video game. In the room, it was sheer destruction. He wanted people to see the real consequences, to feel the weight of their choices.
Technology, anonymity, and the pace of modern life often lead to a decrease in our innate caring capacities. In a world that frequently drives us apart, the challenge lies in actively cultivating empathy and fostering deeper connections.
The Empathy Gym
Psychologist Jamil Zaki of Stanford University, author of "The War For Kindness: Building Empathy In A Fractured World," understands the terrain of empathy from personal experience. His parents, from Peru and Pakistan, met as graduate students in a Washington State. Their divorce, a long and acrimonious split during his childhood, forced Zaki to learn to "tune himself to his parents' different frequencies." He calls it his "empathy gym" – a crucible that forged his ability to understand and care for others, even when it was painful.
Empathy can be divided into three key components:
Emotional empathy: Vicariously catching someone else's feeling, like becoming upset when you see a friend cry.
Cognitive empathy: Trying to understand what someone else is feeling and why.
Empathic concern (or compassion): Feeling concern for someone's well-being and wanting to help.
While different people might struggle with different "flavors" of empathy (e.g., those with autism might struggle with cognitive empathy but not emotional, while individuals with psychopathy often understand others' feelings but don't share them), all three "muscle groups" are vital.
The benefits of empathy are profound, not just for those receiving it. Patients of empathetic doctors are more satisfied and more likely to follow medical advice. Spouses of empathetic partners are happier. But givers benefit too: highly empathetic people are less likely to be depressed, experience less stress, and adolescents who accurately pick up on others' emotions are better adjusted.
The Empathy Gap
Despite an innate human capacity for empathy, and constant cultural encouragement to build it, concerns have long circulated about a potential decline. Earlier research by social psychologist Sara Konrath and colleagues, for instance, indicated that average empathy levels appeared to be declining since at least 1979, with a notable drop observed since the turn of the 21st century.
However, recent findings offer a surprisingly optimistic update to this narrative. An update to that original study reveals that empathy is actually increasing among young Americans since 2008, almost rising to levels similar to the highs of the 1970s. Late Millennials and emerging Gen Zs are showing significant increases in both perspective-taking (cognitive empathy) and empathic concern (emotional empathy), directly countering negative stereotypes about today's youth.
This updated study also underscores a critical point the original work: empathy is not predetermined; it is a fluid trait that can grow or shrink depending on one's experiences. Examining trends across four decades using multiple samples, researchers found that changes in empathy among young Americans move in cycles.
What's Behind This Surprising Shift?
The new research prompts a re-evaluation of previous hypotheses regarding empathy trends:
Solitude and the Hunger for Connection: While earlier observations noted a rise in solitary living (in 2009, 10 times as many people aged 18-34 lived alone compared to 1950 in some areas), the new study suggests a nuanced relationship. Instead of leading to a decline, empathy was found to be higher during times of increased loneliness. When young people witness loneliness and other difficulties around them, they may be inspired to reach out with care and empathy. It's also plausible that their own experiences of loneliness increase their hunger for genuine social connection, thereby fostering empathic responses. This indicates that growing solitude, paradoxically, might be a catalyst for increased interpersonal sensitivity and reaching out.
The Digital Landscape: More Complex Than Assumed: The internet was once hailed as a tool for global connection but also critiqued for fostering superficiality and anonymity, with concerns that interactions through avatars and text could diminish crucial empathic cues. A study by Juliana Schroeder, for instance, found people were more likely to dehumanize someone whose political opinion they read compared to someone whose voice they heard. However, the updated findings show empathy increasing among younger generations despite their pervasive digital engagement. This suggests that while online interactions can present challenges, younger individuals might be navigating these platforms in ways that facilitate connection, or that broader societal shifts (like responding to loneliness) are exerting a stronger influence on empathy levels than the medium of interaction itself. Economic variables, surprisingly, were ruled out as a major factor in these empathy fluctuations, despite a sudden change observed around the Great Recession in 2008.
The dynamic nature of empathy offers a hopeful outlook. The resurgence of empathy among young Americans paints a more optimistic picture of late Millennials and Gen Z adults, suggesting that our capacity for care and connection is resilient and adaptable, capable of flourishing even amidst societal changes.
The Double-Edged Sword of Empathy
Empathy isn't always easy or purely positive. It has a complex, sometimes painful, side:
Painful Awareness: About 50% of oncologists report intense heartbreak when delivering bad news. Psychotherapists might avoid scheduling depressed patients at the end of the day to avoid absorbing their negative mood. People in caring professions can get caught in a "double bind" – care too much and burn out, or "defensively dehumanize" to cope.
Avoidance: In a 1970s study, Mark Pancer found that people would actively walk further out of their way to avoid a charity table if it featured an "empathic trigger" like a picture of a suffering child or a person in a wheelchair. Many of us cross the street to avoid a homeless individual, perhaps to sidestep the guilt or sadness that empathy would bring. The ironic twist? Often, the most empathetic people are the most likely to avoid these situations because they know how deeply they will feel the pain.
Parochialism and Dehumanization: Our instinctive empathy often biased towards our "tribe" or in-group. The hormone oxytocin can make us more caring towards our group but less caring towards outsiders. Psychologist Paul Bloom argues that because empathy is inherently biased, it can lead to prejudice. Zaki agrees it can be biased but believes we can choose to broaden our empathy.
This tribalism can have dangerous consequences. Research on police officers, for instance, showed high empathy for fellow officers could interfere with their ability to see the public's perspective on misconduct. Studies also show that reminding groups of past trauma (e.g., 9/11 for Americans) can make them more wary of outsiders and even more willing to endorse violence. Conversely, groups facing a common threat often band together, illustrating empathy's dual nature.
Worse, empathy can twist into dehumanization, especially when our group is responsible for others' pain. Studies show people are more likely to dislike or dehumanize those they've harmed. Executioners, for example, often dehumanize inmates, particularly those physically involved in lethal injections. This is a painful but real defense mechanism to avoid the intense guilt and self-loathing that empathy would produce.
Despite its challenges, empathy is a muscle we can train. Wafaa Bilal's performance piece, with its visible suffering and the global participation of paintball shots, was a stark mirror reflecting our capacity for both connection and brutal detachment. In a world increasingly shaped by digital screens and anonymous interactions, cultivating empathy is not just about being "nice." It's a critical skill for navigating complex social dynamics, bridging divides, and addressing the deep-seated issues that allow us to harm one another, whether with a paintball gun or a drone. We have the choice, as individuals, to intentionally train our empathy muscles, to step across the street, to listen to the voices behind the text, and to make the choice to care.