Vicarious Pleasure

It is noble to feel compassion for a person (or an animal) when we see them suffering, or struggling with difficulty, or dealing with misfortune. It is especially noble when we feel the urge to help them out. Countless saints have served as models of compassion—demonstrating it and teaching us its importance for a healthy and moral society. 

Compassion is similar to empathy, which is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. Yet there's a key difference: compassion does not mean we have to  understand another's feelings—just that we experience some distress at their suffering; even a sense of responsibility to assist in some way. Empathy, however, means that we literally share the emotions of another, to the point that we comprehend their feelings. Additionally, compassion stems from observing another's suffering, while empathy does not have to arise from that suffering—it simply means being able to “step into their shoes” and share their feelings.

Therefore empathy can also be felt when the other is happy; when they experience good fortune. In this case, it is the ability to feel joy on their behalf. And that can sometimes be a greater challenge for us. It's not very hard to feel some pity for that unfortunate soul who is in misery, but it can sometimes be a challenge to feel elated when Lady Luck has smiled upon them. Sure, I can celebrate when my kid or my spouse gets lucky, but how about that guy next door? When fortune smiles upon him, I may instead feel envy or resent his pleasure.

This is similar to the relative manner by which people judge their satisfaction with their income level. Psychological research has demonstrated that we pay less attention to the amount of money we earn, than to how it compares with the incomes of our compatriots or rivals. If I take home more money than my similar-status neighbor, I feel good about it. But if I find out he earns more than I do, I can resent him. It's not my absolute pay, but how I compare relatively, that matters.

So there's something special about the person who can share in the delight of a neighbor's good luck—especially if that neighbor didn't seem to deserve it. To do so, calls for a definite degree of selflessness; a sentiment that doesn't come easily. There is a Buddhist meditation that helps promote this kind of altruism. You begin by desiring those close to you to be well, happy, and peaceful. May they be graced. Then you gradually widen the circle of your care, step by step, until you are wishing all beings to be well, happy, and peaceful... even that lucky guy next door, for whom you've felt a little jealousy, from time to time.

Empathic Animals

Empathy is most simply defined as the capacity to identify with another being. It’s often described as the ability to “get into the someone else’s shoes.” Until recently empathy was considered to be a uniquely human quality (maybe because we’re the only creature to wear shoes?), but that’s changing. One of the principle researchers who has been shifting minds on the issue is Frans de Waal, a primatologist who has observed chimpanzees for decades. He tells us that empathy is exhibited by many kinds of animals.

The most basic expression of empathy is mimicking. You laugh, I laugh. I yawn, you yawn. I use threatening body language and you reciprocate. Scientists like de Waal have observed our cousins the apes mimicking (aping?) each other in many ways.

In humans empathy crosses cultures and languages. That’s a prime reason why nonhuman primates can show it: we don’t need to know how to communicate by words with someone to feel empathy. Laughing and yawning are universal behaviors; they come naturally.

Since researchers are finding that our ape cousins commonly exhibit empathy (now that they no longer doubt apes have it), we now understand that evolution gave us this capacity; i.e., we’ve acquired it naturally. Long ago we lived in small groups that survived by exhibiting cooperation and empathy. It’s what gave us humans an advantage. Those primate species that lacked empathy were a little less fit and became extinct. We capitalized on our social connections and ability to bond—attributes that were strengthened by our propensity to identify with each other.

In small groups we struggled to survive and we thrived—aided by our empathic qualities. But it goes only so far. Our feelings of empathy tend to be limited to those closest to us; those whom we know and to whom we feel connected. In the last 10thousand years or so we’ve settled down into dense enclaves and find ourselves increasingly competing for resources. Our empathy for the “other” under these circumstances tends to dwindle. Aggression quickly follows.

War has been so constant throughout recorded history that some of us find ourselves concluding that Homo sapiens is by nature an aggressive species that can’t seem to control its violent habits. But for 99.9% of our existence as a species cooperation and empathy were crucial and prevalent. Which really is us: the deeper empathic animal or the warlike creature? Is our aggression just a veneer that we’ve acquired in the last several thousand years—a veneer we might peel away to reveal our empathic core? Of course, both emotions are us; we are both warlike and cooperative. It’s our choice… to decide which one we want to prevail.