“I don’t know how to explain to you why you should care about other people.” This tweet, fired off by exasperated mother and YA author, Lauren Morrill, has since found itself on countless social media memes, featured in articles, and even misattributed to Dr. Anthony Fauci. Millions, including myself, have shared Lauren’s frustration and disheartenment over the past 5 years as we’ve witnessed countless acts of selfishness and downright cruelty by fellow Americans.
We’ve witnessed the demonization of immigrants, destruction of our environment, worship of a sociopathic demagogue, celebration of violence, denial of racism, threats to democracy, and most recently rejection of public health, resulting in the preventable deaths of tens of thousands of Americans. All the while, those of us who DO care about other people dejectedly shake our heads, wondering why we would ever need to explain to our friends, families, and neighbors why they should care about other people.
This sentiment, this disappointment, this hopelessness is something I cannot erase. I cannot ignore it, but cannot seem to grasp a solution. The best I can do is try to understand WHY some people don’t seem capable of thinking about the world beyond their small bubbles. As this quandary pinballs through my psyche, I keep returning to my high school psychology class.
One of the few bits of knowledge that has stuck with me from high school is the theory of moral development. I went back to examine the concept and found that several researchers and theorists presented versions of these theories, but the essential idea is that humans have stages in moral development and where we are in that development is determined not by WHAT we do, but WHY we do it.
At the earliest stage of moral development, our decisions are shaped by authoritarian rules, fear of consequences, or promise of rewards. Next, our decisions rely on social pressures: the desire to be seen as a good person and avoid judgment or guilt. In the most advanced stage of development, we make our decisions based upon universal principles such as human rights, justice, and equality. In other words, we do things because it’s the right thing to do, not because someone told us to do it. We consider the broader impact of our actions, not just how it will affect us individually.
It has occurred to me that I’ve inadvertently applied high school psychology to my parenting. I’ve always vowed to never answer my childrens’ questions with, “Because I told you so.” I avoid any religious teaching that emphasizes rewards of heaven or punishments of hell. I even stopped threatening my kids with coal from Santa because Woody the snitch, I mean elf, reported their indiscretions.
Instead, I want my kids to do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want them to be primarily motivated by awards or afraid of punishments. I also need them to understand that sometimes the right decision involves challenging authority or breaking social norms. Being a good person involves moving beyond how our actions affect us and even past how they affect immediate family and friends. Some of their decisions could ultimately involve considering universal impact and this requires reasoning at the highest moral levels-whoosh, that is deep.
And difficult…and not always possible. But still, it’s a goal worthy of consideration.
Through my 12-year, arduous, yet unequivocally gratifying parenting trek, I’ve pondered concepts of kindness, empathy, and the common good just as often as I’ve worried about nutrition, education, and physical development. Mateo and Lucia’s moral, mental, and physical health hold equal weight on the way to becoming full, healthy, functioning adults; while we will always have room for improvement and are bound to get things wrong, I’m pretty confident Mateo and Lucia are at least headed in the right direction.
It’s not really them that I’m worried about.
While I don’t need to explain to my children why they need to care about other people, I’m continuously astounded-and appalled- by the number of adults who seem to be oblivious to this concept. I SERIOUSLY DO NOT know how to explain why they should care about other people. THEY SHOULD KNOW BETTER.
I’m tired and I know so many kind, empathetic, aware people are right there with me. We’re in no way perfect and cannot possibly maintain the bandwidth it would take to consider ALL of the implications of ALL of our actions at a global level. That’s asking a bit too much even for those who truly want to always do the right thing.
However, working hard to TRY to care about other people and TRY to do the right thing for the right reason is doubly exhausting when we see so many around us appearing to not give a shit, not even making the tiniest attempt to consider the implications of their actions beyond their individual bubbles. Not only is it exhausting, it’s downright scary. Did I seriously bring two children into a world filled with so many selfish assholes? What was I thinking?
In fact, as I listened to a podcast about the most recent climate catastrophe on my morning walk, I realized most of the people around me wouldn’t know or even care about the impending destruction of the planet as we know it (yes, it is really that bad and I’m not being hyperbolic). I considered advising my kids not to have their own children. Why on earth should they bring more human beings into this world, teach them to be good people, only to be surrounded by many more others who don’t seem to understand why they should care about other people?
And there goes the spiral of doom I find myself on every single time I have to ask that damn question. Every time I witness what seems to be a complete lack of empathy, kindness, and compassion. And this is where I need to stop and breathe. Maybe I should take some of the advice I give my girls when the game is not going their way: Acknowledge your mistakes, figure out what’s wrong, and fix it.
And so now we’re back to the original predicament: How do we fix this? Is it actually possible to convince more people to care about others at a more advanced moral level?
Currently, I’m at a maybe, possibly a probably.
So, what works? How can we break through and encourage our friends, family, and neighbors to consider the broader, more global implications of their actions? I know what definitely won’t work: Telling them what they should do and why or using my go-to Catholic guilt-tripping methods. Pointing out that a person is thinking selfishly or putting others in danger doesn’t seem to work, and apparently neither does calling them assholes (not that I haven’t tried). The forces of cognitive biases, especially the Backfire Effect, are difficult to overcome. Most of us want to believe that we are good people making the best decisions we can. Asking someone to consider the possibility they’re hurting others, even unintentionally, often only contributes to their wall of defensiveness.
I researched approaches for encouraging moral development and it turns out that the methods are virtually the same for children and adults: encouraging reflection through sharing ideas and discussions with others. I often find myself talking my kids through their decision-making process and asking them loads of questions along the way. I also share my insights and reflections with them as a model.
Lately, they’ve started asking me tough questions, causing me to reflect and sometimes complicate my perspective. We don’t do this with every decision-I’d never get them to school in the morning if they began each day pondering the morality of their clothing choices and environmental impact of their cereal (both real topics of concern, by the way); however, we can practice this more complex approach periodically.
I had a conversation recently with an unvaccinated coworker and tried this approach with him. He shared that he and his wife were hesitant to get the vaccine because they thought their previous infections gave them immunity and felt confident they would survive Covid if they were infected again. While my initial impulse was to bombard him with recent studies concerning the limitations of natural immunity, I resisted. I know this man to be kind, thoughtful, caring and rational. I knew that I would insult him should I attempt anything close to a lecture.
Instead, I shared my perspective. I explained that I had also been infected and that I was also not worried about myself; however, I was worried about unintentionally spreading the virus to others who were more vulnerable and could possibly have a negative outcome. After I detailed my concerns about the effect of my decision on others, he looked surprised, but reflective, “Huh, that’s something I hadn’t considered. You gave me something to think about,” was his response.
When my students write essays, their ultimate purpose is to provide a unique, thoughtful perspective that makes their reader say, “Huh, I never thought of it that way.” Trying too hard to persuade someone can feel preachy and uncomfortable; most of us do not enjoy being told what to do or feeling bad about ourselves. If we present a powerful enough insight, it can ultimately persuade a reader to shift their thinking on their own, without the pressure of outright persuasive tactics.
Research shows that convincing people to care about issues or make decisions that affect other people such as getting vaccinated requires a multi-faceted approach. The depressing truth is that most people are primarily influenced by how something affects them personally. This is why mandates, while somewhat controversial, are the most effective tool we have to change behavior. Others respond to social pressure such as marketing campaigns-the desire to be seen as an upstanding member of society. Very few, to my dismay, respond to arguments about how their choice will help others.
Given all of this, I’m not sure it is possible to explain to adults why THEY SHOULD care about others. Instead, our best approach is to speak clearly and openly about why WE DO care about others and why we make decisions based upon these concerns. We can continue to have these conversations with our children, of course, but how much change could we effect by sharing our reflections, insights, and considerations with others?
I don’t know the answer and to be honest, I’m not entirely hopeful after being constantly disappointed by my fellow humans over the dark past few years. No matter how ugly things get though, I just cannot give up. It’s not fair to my children and it’s definitely not fair to all of those other people that I truly and deeply care about. I might not be able to explain to others why they should care about other people, but Dammit, I sure as hell won’t stop explaining why I do.