Some words on empathy and Trump’s war.
Isn’t it remarkable how quickly empathy gets rationed.
The same people who once laughed at videos of drowning refugees, who dismissed desperate families crossing seas as consequences of their choices are now incandescent when someone points out that those trapped in Dubai by the forces Trump has unleashed are not fundamentally different.
Suddenly, being stranded by forces beyond your control is a tragedy. Suddenly, human vulnerability deserves compassion.
But fear feels the same in every language and every country. A person clinging to survival, whether in the Mediterranean or in a bombed high rise, is still just a human being trying not to die.
When refugees fled war, famine, or collapse, many on the far right were happy to say things like “They chose to go.” “They shouldn’t have been there.” “Not our problem.” Yet when disaster strikes a wealthy city filled with tourists, influencers, and expatriates, the tone shifts overnight. Now it’s shock. Now it’s horror. Now it’s outrage at anyone who dares to minimise suffering.
So will we tell them to stay in their chosen place of residence as they are of “fighting age?”
This is nothing more than selective empathy.
If it’s cruel to mock people stranded in a modern metropolis, it was cruel to mock people drowning at sea. If we agree that no one deserves to die because of circumstances spiraling beyond their control, that principle can’t be applied only when the victims look familiar, prosperous, or socially desirable.
Or White.
Compassion isn’t supposed to be for those who look like us. You don’t have to erase context to acknowledge humanity. You don’t have to agree with every migration policy to recognise that drowning is terrifying. War is terrifying. And you don’t have to downplay one crisis to take another seriously.
The real test of moral consistency is whether we can extend the same basic dignity to those we’ve been taught to see as Others, not just to those who look like us.
Empathy that only flows in one direction isn’t empathy at all. Can we please have compassion for everyone who is suffering.
The same people who once laughed at videos of drowning refugees, who dismissed desperate families crossing seas as consequences of their choices are now incandescent when someone points out that those trapped in Dubai by the forces Trump has unleashed are not fundamentally different.
Suddenly, being stranded by forces beyond your control is a tragedy. Suddenly, human vulnerability deserves compassion.
But fear feels the same in every language and every country. A person clinging to survival, whether in the Mediterranean or in a bombed high rise, is still just a human being trying not to die.
When refugees fled war, famine, or collapse, many on the far right were happy to say things like “They chose to go.” “They shouldn’t have been there.” “Not our problem.” Yet when disaster strikes a wealthy city filled with tourists, influencers, and expatriates, the tone shifts overnight. Now it’s shock. Now it’s horror. Now it’s outrage at anyone who dares to minimise suffering.
So will we tell them to stay in their chosen place of residence as they are of “fighting age?”
This is nothing more than selective empathy.
If it’s cruel to mock people stranded in a modern metropolis, it was cruel to mock people drowning at sea. If we agree that no one deserves to die because of circumstances spiraling beyond their control, that principle can’t be applied only when the victims look familiar, prosperous, or socially desirable.
Or White.
Compassion isn’t supposed to be for those who look like us. You don’t have to erase context to acknowledge humanity. You don’t have to agree with every migration policy to recognise that drowning is terrifying. War is terrifying. And you don’t have to downplay one crisis to take another seriously.
The real test of moral consistency is whether we can extend the same basic dignity to those we’ve been taught to see as Others, not just to those who look like us.
Empathy that only flows in one direction isn’t empathy at all. Can we please have compassion for everyone who is suffering.
