A web site I ran across recently had a really good take on the tsunami situation. The article came from
The Enlightened Caveman and also has plenty of other good articles as well.
Tsunami Disaster - Spheres of Self-Interest
This tsunami will likely prove to be the most protracted natural disaster in recent history. The aftershocks, after they've ceased being geological, will become immunilogical, which means this thing isn't going to be over for a while. This is truly devastating, on so many levels that it isn't even fully comprehensible yet, at least not for me. I tried to read up on the tragedy but kept having to stop. I'm not ready to spend the next couple of hours sobbing. But as I felt my eyes welling up, I began to wonder what it was exactly that was making me so sad.
As much as I'd like to say that it was pure compassion for the dead and their families, it wasn't. Yes, I feel awful for them. But it was only when I imagined myself in the shoes of a survivor who'd lost his or her whole family that my emotional systems became uncontrollable. This realization was instantly discomforting. Am I a monster? How can I be so callous? Those were my initial thoughts, but then I took a step back. If I am being honest, then recognizing this reality should not be a source of guilt, and it should not lead to any sort of self-loathing. It is yet another indication of our human heritage, which means we're best served if we understand it. Then, maybe, we'll have the knowledge to decide how to feel and, more importantly, what to do.
So what if I ask the following question: am I a heartless anomaly in an otherwise compassionate America? If I exercise a little critical rationalism, I find that there are basically three possible answers - either I am, I am not, or we don't have enough evidence to say. Now to the evidence. I'm looking for the kind that disproves alternatives, since I am not intellectually arrogant enough to suppose that I can ever really prove anything. That said, I think there are two approaches to exploring this question - one is theoretical and one is empirical. First to the theory.
The emotional infrastructure of the brain evolved to motivate early humans to do things that would aid in their survival. Our emotions are, therefore, the tools of our genes, and our genes are all about self-interest. In caveman days, being able to envision the pain and anguish of a devastating event, such as the loss of a child or mate, was essential to keeping a conscious focus on doing the things that would avoid those kinds of situations. Conversely, becoming emotionally invested in biologically far removed situations could easily have become unacceptably distracting. Remember - life in those days was tough - lapses in attention were often fatal. Mother Nature, then as now, exerted her influence indiscriminately. But back then, her scope was wider - it included wild animals, poisonous plants, regularly-occuring weather events (droughts, freezes, etc.), and diseases. On top of that, early humans had to competitively contend with each othe for limited food, shelter, and water. This means that the sphere of self-interest had (and still has) a definite limit, and it is reasonable to suppose that the line for those of us in North America does not overlap with the shere of devastation emanating from Asian waters. So, in this case, it would seem that my inability to fully feel the pain of countless tsunami victims is not out of the ordinary (despite the fact that many would refuse to admit it). But this is conjecture based upon evolutionary theory.
On the empirical side, in terms of common experience, I think there's a limit to how strongly we respond to differing tragedies. Furthermore, I think there's a social understanding of where those limits lie. If someone in my family is in a serious car accident, it is fully expected that I will be distraught with concern and worry. However, it would be truly surprising if I showed the same concern for some tsunami victims that I've never met. Indeed, I'd have a hard time justifying staying home from work because of my grief. Far from being seen as heartless, my emotional detachment isn't remarkable at all. So where does that leave us?
As with most things, it's hard to feel very sure about our conclusions. We always have to be wary of the unknown but relevant. However, in deciding whether I am wrong to internalize the disaster in Asia as I do, I feel safe in saying that I am not. But, ultimately, that is not the point.
How I feel, honestly, has nothing to do with my rational consideration of the situation. Indeed, were I in a powerful position, my detachment would be significantly preferred to having to bottle up gut-wrenching emotions in order to stay focused on the tasks at hand. The bottom line is that the situation far away is horrifying. I don't have to be able to feel their pain to know that they need my help. I know who I am, and I know that, were it not for the rationality that has been culturally installed in my head, I might not care at all. But I do, and that's really what matters. So here's my first rational suggestion.
Since America is quite clearly the best at solving big problems, I think we need to take the funding that Bush has dedicated to the tragedy and invest much of it domestically in companies that can deliver the goods and services most in need. We should use our military resources to create air and seaports, and then engage Fedex and UPS in massive shipping operations. Then we get our pharmaceutical companies and healthcare payor/providers (such as Kaiser Permanente) involved in addressing the exploding health problems. From there, we have an endless list of suppliers of food, water, building materials, and infrastructure components (such as telecommunications, electricity, and plumbing) from which to choose. As my personal sphere of influence has rationally been extended to include America at large, I think we can find a win win situation here, whereby the disaster victims get what they need in the fastest, most efficient way possible, and we don't have to stand by and watch every American dollar buy only twenty cents worth of relief. Does that make me a bad guy?
