“If a single child is trapped under rubble, the world stops. If thousands suffer, we call it a crisis—but we move on. Why?”

We don’t like to admit it, but our empathy has limits. We care deeply about our families, our friends, our communities. But beyond that? Beyond our immediate circles, our borders, our cultures?

Something shifts.

A war breaks out in a distant country. A factory collapse kills hundreds. Refugees flee devastation.

And we scroll past.

Not because we’re bad people. Not because we don’t care. But because something inside us—something ancient, something wired into our survival—tells us: That’s not your problem.

This isn’t just about apathy. It’s about how human nature, technology, and politics work together to turn real people into statistics. And if we don’t challenge it, the consequences are dire.

How Our Brains Trick Us Into Indifference

Science has a name for this: psychic numbing—the way our emotions shut down when faced with large-scale suffering.

• We feel deeply for one person in pain.
• We struggle to process the suffering of millions.

Paul Slovic, a researcher on human behavior, calls this the collapse of compassion. The larger the tragedy, the harder it is for our brains to compute.

And it’s not just numbers. It’s distance—physical, cultural, emotional.

• A friend loses their job? We rally to help.
• Thousands lose their homes in a country we’ve never visited? We feel bad. But it’s… abstract.

The further someone is from our world, the harder it is to see them as fully human.

This isn’t an excuse. It’s a warning. Because history shows us what happens when we let this instinct go unchallenged.

From Indifference to Dehumanization

We like to believe that atrocities belong to the past. That genocide, war crimes, exploitation—those were the failures of another time.

But here’s the truth: Every mass injustice started with dehumanization.

• The Holocaust didn’t begin with concentration camps. It began with people being called “vermin.”
• Slavery didn’t start with chains. It started with the idea that some people were less than others.
• Refugees drowning in the sea today? We call them a “crisis.” A “wave.” A problem to manage, not people to help.

The moment we stop seeing people as individuals with hopes, fears, and dreams—that’s when anything becomes possible.

And make no mistake: Dehumanization isn’t just something that happens “over there.” It’s happening now. In the way we talk about migrants. Protesters. The poor. The enemy.

This isn’t just about the past. This is about us. Right now.

The Media’s Role: Who Gets to Be a Victim?

Have you ever noticed how some tragedies make headlines for weeks—while others disappear in hours?

It’s not random.

• A war breaks out in a wealthy country? Wall-to-wall coverage.
• A famine kills thousands in a nation already struggling? Maybe a news brief—if that.

Why? Because we prioritize the suffering of people who look like us, live like us, think like us.

The media doesn’t create bias. It reflects it. It feeds us the stories we’re most likely to engage with—the ones that feel closest to home.

And what happens to the rest? The wars, the famines, the crises that don’t fit a convenient narrative? They fade into the background.

The world keeps turning. And people keep suffering, unseen.

How We Break the Cycle

If human nature, history, and media all push us toward selective empathy—what do we do about it?

1. Make It Personal

Statistics don’t move people. Stories do.

• One refugee’s journey is more powerful than a thousand faceless numbers.
• One family struggling through war is more moving than a death toll.

If you want to care more, seek out the human stories. Don’t let crises become headlines without faces.

2. Notice Who You’re Not Seeing

Next time you’re scrolling, ask yourself:

• Whose suffering is being ignored?
• Who is missing from the conversation?
• Whose pain are we comfortable looking away from?

Challenge the instinct to only empathize with people who remind you of yourself.

3. Stop Using Language That Distances

The moment we call people “migrants” instead of families fleeing for their lives, we detach.
The moment we call people “rioters” instead of citizens demanding justice, we lose the story.

Words matter. They shape how we see the world—and who we decide is worth saving.

4. Take Responsibility for Your Attention

We can’t control global suffering. But we can control what we engage with.

• Follow journalists who cover forgotten stories.
• Share voices that aren’t being heard.
• Stay present with crises that are easy to ignore.

Empathy is a muscle. Use it.

There is a reason history repeats itself: The Cost of Looking Away

Every injustice—every war, every genocide, every mass suffering—began with the same excuse:

“That’s not our problem.”

And if we let that thinking take over, if we let ourselves become numb—then we will watch the next crisis unfold in real time, feel bad for a moment, and move on.

But we don’t have to.

We can fight to see people as they are. To challenge the forces that divide us. To break the cycle before it’s too late.

Because the greatest threat to humanity has never been war, or disease, or disaster.

It’s indifference.

And the choice before us everyday is simple: Will we care, or will we look away?