At times, I am at a loss for words. Yesterday, listening to a speech about indifference, for example.
We live in a complicated world. We are all alone in the sense that neither we nor anyone else can get inside the mind and emotions of our companions, parents, strangers, or children. Indeed, one of the first impossibly puzzling thoughts I had in my childhood years was this:
Why am I me?
I recognized that my consciousness was accessible only to myself. Moreover, I wondered why my private ideas and overall awareness were planted solely in my brain and body. Why not in someone else’s being, I asked.
My question for today is different but related. Our separateness guarantees an imperfect grasp of others and the impossibility of being as easily touched by their sufferings as we are by our own. Of course, exceptions exist, as when our children are in pain, but it is not hard for some to look away from others. Indeed, it can be automatic, a defense mechanism that makes the world tolerable.
To look, to see, to recognize leads to searching one’s conscience and a question. Do I have a responsibility to help?
I met only one person in my long clinical practice who lacked the capacity for indifference to others’ distress. She was a bright, young teenage woman whose parents brought her to my office.
This girl could not watch television news without being tormented by human tragedy. It was unbearable, and her heartbreak was beyond her mother and father’s understanding and my own.
The most worthwhile discussion of indifference I have ever encountered was not offered by another mental health professional, but someone who had experienced it. Here is an excerpt from a speech he gave on April 12, 1999. A video of the speech prompted this essay:
What is indifference? Etymologically, the word means “no difference.” A strange and unnatural state in which the lines blur between light and darkness, dusk and dawn, crime and punishment, cruelty and compassion, good and evil. What are its courses and inescapable consequences? Is it a philosophy? Is there a philosophy of indifference conceivable? Can one possibly view indifference as a virtue? Is it necessary at times to practice it simply to keep one’s sanity, live normally, enjoy a fine meal and a glass of wine, as the world around us experiences harrowing upheavals?
Of course, indifference can be tempting (and) more than that, seductive. It is so much easier to look away from victims. It is so much easier to avoid such rude interruptions to our work, our dreams, our hopes. It is, after all, awkward, troublesome, to be involved in another person’s pain and despair. Yet, for the person who is indifferent, his or her neighbor is of no consequence. And, therefore, their lives are meaningless. Their hidden or even visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the Other to an abstraction.
In a way, to be indifferent to that suffering is what makes the human being inhuman. Indifference, after all, is more dangerous than anger and hatred. Anger can, at times, be creative. One writes a great poem, a great symphony. One does something special for the sake of humanity because one is angry at the injustice that one witnesses. But indifference is never creative. Even hatred, at times, may elicit a response. You fight it. You denounce it. You disarm it.
Indifference elicits no response. Indifference is not a response. Indifference is not a beginning; it is an end. And, therefore, indifference is always the friend of the enemy, for it benefits the aggressor —never his victim, whose pain is magnified when he or she feels forgotten. The political prisoner in his cell, the hungry children, the homeless refugees — not to respond to their plight, not to relieve their solitude by offering them a spark of hope is to exile them from human memory. And in denying their humanity, we betray our own.
Thank you if you are still with me, reading this, pondering, and feeling this. If you live in the United States, I am sure you are aware of the magnetic pull of indifference, the offer of escape from the endless news stories about poverty, cruelty, and unfairness.
I am sure you are aware of people taken into custody on the street, the reported lack of due process, and the 60,000 to 65,000 people said to be in ICE detention.
It is enough to cause some who are not victims to throw away their cell phones, computers, TV sets, and radios.
It is enough to enter a fantasy world of everyday life, or refuse to discuss anything political, day or night.
The man who wrote the words quoted above was Elie Wiesel, a Jewish survivor of the Holocaust. His entire speech is below. He hoped his audience would reflect on a topic called “The Perils of Indifference.”
The last word he utters is “hope.”
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The top photograph is called “Smokey World,” a 1959 work by Fan Ho. Next comes his “Triple Play.” The final image is “As Evening Hurries ” from 1955.
Wiesel’s words…”indifference…is more dangerous than anger and hatred..”
I feel every syllable there. And your words, Dr. Stein – “Indifference is always the friend of the enemy…”. So perfectly put. Thank you for these powerful reminders this morning. ❤️
Thank. you, Vicki. It is hard for me to say more about Wiesel given his experience. I have read multiple volumes about the Holocaust, but, thankfully, I didn’t live it. Many of the survivors state that they do not believe those who listen to or read about the descriptions of their calamity can understand what they went through. In part, they often go on, that is why they have hesitated to talk about it, usually, until very near the end of their lives. Then, they do so out of the obligation to act as witnesses in the hope that their voices will help prevent it from ever happening again.
Appreciate you, my friend. ❤️
I think about this balancing act. I tend to be an empath, the other end of the spectrum and I take on and feel others’ suffering, helping where I can, and feeling for them even where I can’t. at times, I need to also remind myself to care for myself in order to better help them.in doing so, with every small action or word, I continue to feel hope, for them, as well as myself, in these very challenging times. that is what keeps us all going in spite of everything and what I answer when people ask me time and again about why I continue to do what I do.
Thank you, Beth. You have taken a noble and applause worthy-position in your thoughts and deeds. I would add one thing to your eloquent response. While it is reasonable for people to ask you the question you mention, it does occur to me that a possible response to them might be to ask them why they do not do what you do.
We’re part of the problem if we respond with indifference. How can we look the other way at a homeless person who’s shivering on a cold winter morning? That human is somebody else’s child. Would we not want others to help our child in the same scenario? How can one act with indifference when immigrant parents and children are ripped apart, or try to justify it somehow?
Thank you, Pete. We humans are able to rationalize most anything. As I have mentioned here before, there is research evidence based on fMRI results, that our brains register similar brain activity when looking at a homeless person as it does when looking at objects like furniture.
Even Wiesel recognized that he could understand people looking away, while he also condemned it at the same time.
Then there is the fear factor, for those who do not want to draw attention to themselves and the possibility that the brutality being used on others will turn on them.
I would say that humanity is being tested, as it has been in the past. If we fail the test and become what Wiesel called inhuman, the argument can be made that we have not earned the right to live in peace and safety.
I read Night many years ago by Elie Wiesel. It was a powerful read. I also took a sociology class in school where the instructor (Sam Oliner) told a heartbreaking story of having their home invaded by the Nazis during World War II. They never found him (I believe he was in a secret room), but the rest of his family was slaughtered. He was 12 at the time. https://www.northcoastjournal.com/lifelines/samuel-p-oliner-1930-2021-22080910/
Thank you again, Pete. Both for the musical video and its message, and the background of the remarkable Sam Oliner. I haven’t read Night, but I can say that from the time I was 10 or so, when I saw a news reel of Hitler ranting and the carnage he orchestrated, I wondered “What if he spoke English?” I think my question has been at least partially answered, to my regret.
Loved this column, Dr. Stein. 🙂
Harry! It seems like a very long time since you have commented here, unless of course you are not the Harry Lee Martin I am thinking of. In any case, thanks for your approval and, if you are related to the Harry Lee Martin who lived on the West Coast, please tell him I am pleased to know he is still alive. All the best.
I read the part of your young patient who wasn’t able to tune out others suffering and so in turn became tortured with it. It reminded me of a younger version of me, when in adulthood I became wide open an saw all the suffering around me and felt it deep in my soul. I felt overwhelmed with the weight and burden it imposed.
I then had people in my life who told me I needed to close off a portion of my heart to the suffering or it would consume my mind and my sanity. I did listen, for I was overwhelmed with the suffering around me as well as the very real difficulties of being married to an alcoholic and drug addict who was struggling to find a need for his own sobriety. All of that stress combined had overwhelmed my nervous system and I came down with shingles, and then had relapse after relapse after relapse.
I was told I needed to learn how to overcome my stress in order to regain my physical health. I went through almost 10 years of shingles episodes, one on the heel of the other. The emotional pain was manifesting in my body as physical pain.
I slowly learned to handle my personal life, the biggest break happened when he left me for another woman. While his leaving caused great pain in my heart it also gave me respite because he was no longer my problem.
I was also quietly learning to put up walls inside of myself so that I was no longer so deeply affected by the suffering of the people around the world. I knew that the cost of hardening my heart would result in less empathy for others, but it was a step I needed to take in order to be able to live a sane and healthy life.
Phew, I’ve written a lot! I think I need to move these thoughts into a new post!
Thank you for your openness, Tamara. As in the case of the teen I mentioned, it may be that some people, either because of their genetic inheritance or their devastating personal experience, have to shield themselves from the world’s extreme misery. During the Holocaust there were some prisoners who saw the truth of their situation and could not bear it. At a certain point they were overcome with death and gave in to it, though they did not yet have any disease. What is clear is that the human race desperately needs those who can understand its fraught situation and defend it against those who do harm, but not everyone can.
Dr. Stein, thanks for this reminder of the danger of indifference that has found a home among us. May I not fall into a state of indifference.
Thank you, Rosaliene. I do not think you will
Gerry: I too was much taken by your story of the teenager who could not watch TV, etc. My question: was it possible to help her?
I also agree with you that it times one has to be indifferent in order to survive. In 1969, my wife and were on a delayed honeymoon, and spent five weeks touring India from Kashmir to Madras and below. Sue, who is American, could not handle the extreme poverty she saw all around her when we landed in Delhi, whereas I who had spent my WWII childhood as a refugee from Vienna with my parents, was in some sense inured to this state of affairs, and felt that I had to suppress certain emotions if we were to enjoy the art and culture and civilization of this amazing country. On a houseboat in Kashmir on the idyllic Dal Lake we talked this through over many lengthy conversations and Sue was able to make her inner peace somewhat and continue on our journey, which was an extraordinary, life-changing experience. (The alternative, seriously, was to get on the next plane home. Something more than one would-be tourist has done!)
But this has been a very temporary indifference, for once a refugee, always a refugee. I grieve every day for the victims of ICE and for the complete inhumanity of the Trump Administration which has cast all shreds of decency, and legality, aside to the whims of an increasingly senile vindictive and narcissistic president. It’s very tough to get up in the morning and read about the day’s calumny without despairing and losing hope. But there are sane voices of hope around and one does what one can, even if my marching days are over.
So yes, there are times when must be indifferent to survive but this should be minimized for Wiesel is totally correct: to be indifferent is to side with the enemy.
Thanks for addressing this important issue.
Thank you, Eric. With respect to the teen, she was referred to me by another therapist for my opinion of her condition and what might be done to help her. I could find no evidence of having had anything but a decent childhood and parents who loved her and showed that love.
It might have helped if she had gradually been exposed to the traumatic experiences on tv and elsewhere that were her undoing her, to the point of developing some capacity to defend against them. Your conversations with your wife also point the way to treatment, though I don’t know that the young woman was capable of taking that in while viewing the misery of many Indians every day.
Thank you, too, for your commentary on Wiesel and our present circumstances. I believe, as you do, that issues such as this are important and need to be addressed.
Dr. Stein, thank you for this thoughtful post. It really hit home for me in several ways. As a child I was devastated by my mother’s sadness and have never been able to bear any living thing crying—I will go to great lengths to comfort any person or animal in distress—which of course made it difficult to parent my two children at times and also to teach my 8th grade students. It takes a lot of energy to guide and teach and maintain order when you are incapable of upsetting anyone! But I found it was possible and I was rewarded over and over by the love I was given in return. A terrible yet wonderful thing happened along the way. My master teacher introduced me to a Holocaust survivor and over time I studied and received training on teaching the Holocaust to my students, even from the United States Holocaust Museum staff. This meant of course that I not only had to learn about unbearable suffering, but that I was also going to be one of the people who would bear witness to the innocent young people I taught and I hated that. But once I knew, once I promised my friend who had survived Auschwitz that I would bear witness, I somehow found the strength. I believe that is what we must do now in America. We must keep our eyes open.
Thank you, Lori. Your story is engaging and important. Your comment prompted me to look at what AI says about knowledge of the time period in which the Holocaust occurred. “A 2020 Pew survey of U.S. teens (ages 13 to 17) found that 57% knew when the Holocaust occurred.”
Clearly, in the absence of those who lived it, the responsibility to share the knowledge they left behind falls to you and others like you. It also falls to those like me, who can add what I know, from less formal study, but much reading and thoughtful consideration.
The need for this can be understood in the shadow of fascist movements in our backyard, often misunderstood by those who claim innocence of such political leanings, despite involvement and support of them. We are fortunate to have people like you, who dedicate their work to bearing witness. Thank you for doing so.
You are so kind, Dr. Stein. Since I’m semi retired now and living in such a remote location I have less opportunity. I do manage our little library and do what I can there. I think I need to write about the topic more. We can’t ever give up. Thank you for your wonderful post—this one and all of them!
We must all do our part, however large or small. I am sure you add to the accumulated decency in the world at your local library and elsewhere. Necessity requires it and waits for our attention, hoping that the indifferent are awakened. Thank you again, Lori.
Thank you, Dr. Stein!
Thank you for your comments and even more for you willingness to bear witness to the Holocaust to the young ones of this generation, who are growing up in a climate of misinformation, distortion and hate that could easily shift into authoritarian horror. For one of your sensitivity, this must be doubly tough. However, the reward for doing this is infinite.
Although I supported the Holocaust Museum from Day One, it took me years before I found the courage to visit, when on a visit to friends in DC. I was very stoic and controlled in going through the horrors of the exhibit, having already read and seen plenty of this material. But what got me at the end was the Hall of the Righteous, reading about the ones who braved untold and horrific dangers in order to do the right thing. The one story that made me lose it was the story of the German invasion of the Greek isles. On one, the Nazi Commandant ordered the bishop of the island to present himself at the Commandant’s office the next morning with a list of all the Jewish residents of the island. At 9 am the bishop appeared and handed the Commandant the list. It contained one name. His. At that moment I just lost it. Never give up. As the saying goes, “He/she who saves a life, saves a people.” Look at the descendants of Oscar Schindler’s List and Sir Nicholas Winton’s Czech Kindertransport efforts.
I had not heard the Bishop’s story. No words. Thanks for your kindness, Eric. I’ve thought, since I was a kid, of the possibility that the Germans were not uniquely disposed to the horrors they and others created. We all should pay tribute to such righteous gentiles such as the Bishop and look to them as models of how to behave in our own time.
Oh, Eric. What a pertinent reminder about the righteous gentiles. That Greek bishop was amazingly brave. I’m in awe of that kind of honor and strength. Just—truly good. Thank you for sharing.
Follow-up: As I recall, not one Jew on the island was deported. He/she who saves one life….
You prompted me to check out some information about the event. It affirms the survival of all the Jews on the island. Thanks, Eric.
Profound, Dr. Stein. You mentioned the ICE operations, but now we can add the travel bans that the current administration is putting in place. They think that by deporting people or not permitting people to enter the country, it will somehow protect the country from what is happening around the world. Indifference is a problem, and things will get much worse because of it. We need to address world problems with compassion, and we should use our resources to help others.
Thanks, Edward. As you say, a new day, a new indignity or action without wisdom. And, yes, it is useful for all of us to ask what more we can do. Today, a pregnant woman was dragged away by ICE with a crowd yelling, “She’s pregnant!.”
What an important essay, Dr. Stein. Hope is necessary to keep us involved in making a difference. We have to believe we can stand against cruelty, hatred, and greed. Thanks for the reminder that we have to stay involved.
Thanks, Wynne. I know the world would be a better place if there were several more Wynne Leons on the planet! Surely your dad would be proud. Your kids are lucky, too. Happy holidays and good health to all.
Thank you so much for your thoughts and for sharing the speech of Elie Wiesel, Dr. Stein! It’s a fine line to navigate. Indifference to suffering is an enabler of worse to come. It reminds me of what Hannah Arendt said about the death of empathy. Shielding ourselves from overwhelm due to the enormous amount of suffering we are confronted with in today’s digital age is necessary to a certain extent – I feel that necessity myself. However, we have to do whatever we can within our circle of influence to help and support each other, because we do make a difference that way. And I feel that is more important than ever. Listening to Elie Wiesel’s words is a harrowing reminder, especially in light of today’s situation in the US. I am grateful for the creativity and courage of many Americans – supporting, protecting, resisting, not standing down, not giving up. They are signs of hope in dark times. All my best wishes for you!
I, too, believe there are the signs of hope you mention, Christiane. Your description of the way so many are torn between action and fear is spot on. It is a time for self appraisal and courage. Your words, by themselves, will encourage those who read them here and elsewhere. Thank you.