Empathy Essay: Empathy's relationship into understanding Queer Identity

Hello blog viewer!  If you check this out, I would appreciate it.  This essay covers topics such as empathy and queer identity, primarily analyzing the role that empathy plays in recognizing individuals who pertain to queer identities.   This was for my queer theory science fiction class, in which I worked in a group in order to dive into the idea of alien perspectives within queer theory.  I hope you enjoy it.  


Empathy Essay


Empathy, like concepts such as morality and humanity, is understandably difficult to define. The phrase “putting yourself in other people’s shoes” is often considered an appropriate description. According to Yale psychologist Paul Bloom, however, empathy can also inv Tolve empathetic distress—essentially, a self-oriented emotion where one shares in the suffering of another (Polinska, 2020). This act of placing oneself in another’s position due to sharing experiences inherently presents challenges, as empathy directly ties to the ability to relate to and understand other human beings.  

The article further explores Bloom’s discussions, the complexities and obstacles that hinder individuals from fully expressing empathy toward others, and the factors that compel individuals to empathize despite logical or moral considerations. For instance, it cites a study in which participants were more likely to allocate money and medication to a single girl suffering from a chronic condition, as opposed to eight children facing the same illness. The key difference was that the girl was accompanied by a photograph, while the eight children were not personally identifiable. This personal connection made participants more inclined to assist the girl depicted in the photo (Polinska, 2020).  This suggests that when individuals make decisions, the perspectives they rely on are shaped by ignorance, which is “created and managed by a system of social institutions.” The article primarily examines the disparity in empathetic decisions based on race, emphasizing the inherent difficulty in extending empathy to certain individuals due to the pervasive systemic racism embedded within social structures. 

Despite focusing on race, these arguments can also be applied to queer identity. Bloom’s key takeaway, and the article's central argument, is that empathy is inherently biased—particularly due to systemic racism—despite being widely regarded as an emotion that fosters understanding and compassion. The article underscores the racial bias in our perceptions, noting that they are “never free from social influences,” and emphasizes the advantage afforded to recognizable victims who share an ethnic or national background with the observer. This bias often relegates individuals who are dissimilar, or perceived as "other," to a lesser status, leading to their suffering being deemed less significant when decisions with empathy are made.  

This is particularly troubling in the context of queer identity, which has historically struggled to be recognized as fully human—a point explored by Dana Luciano and Mel Y. Chan in their journal: “Has the Queer Ever Been Human?” The immediate disconnect from normative, heterosexual identity that dominates Western culture has often rendered queer individuals invisible or alienated. While systemic racism remains a major factor in biased empathetic decision-making, as highlighted above, the marginalization of queer identity is less frequently addressed, even though it operates on similarly troubling dynamics.  With this, applying Luciano’s and Chan's findings to the experiments conducted by Bloom reveals the nature to which empathy operates within society; unfortunately, it is less founded on morals and ethics but on societal expectations and influences.

Luciano and Chan explore the concept of what defines humanity and question the place of queer identity within this spectrum. They begin with a discussion of Grounded #114, 2006, a photograph by Laura Aguilar. The authors note the photo's deliberate subversion of traditional norms, as Aguilar’s presentation resists conventional notions of what a woman “should” look like. Her gender, sex, race, and social status are intentionally ambiguous, symbolizing the historical objectification and marginalization of Indigenous peoples. Instead of conforming to societal expectations by exposing her identity, Aguilar turns away, rejecting inclusion in the metaphorical circle of humanity. In questioning this circle of humanity, the journal delves into three ways humans can be identified: the enlightenment subject, the affective human, and the human as a species. These categories are described from distinct perspectives: the enlightenment subject is defined by rational thinking, the affective human is a "feminized figure" linked to emotional attachment, and the human as a species is rooted in biological and evolutionary terms.  These three ways highlight the complex and often contradictory standards by which society defines what it means to be human. Aguilar actively turns away, refusing to conform to any of these definitions, thereby emphasizing the disruption of traditional boundaries.

Overall, this analysis segues into broader questions about the recognition of queer individuals as fully human. The journal examines queer theory's evolving goals, whether striving to affirm queer identities as “human” or embracing the nonhuman turn, which reimagines queer existence as transcending traditional humanist aspirations.  

If empathy hinges on the ability to connect with someone who shares a familiar background, this raises a critical question: “When the ‘sub-human, in-human, non-human’ queer actively connects with the other human, what might that connection spawn?” (Luciano & Chan, 2015).  Because queer identity exists in a space distinct from the normative, heterosexual sphere that dominates society, the journal raises questions about what a convergence between these two realms might look like. However, it stops short of addressing whether these two seemingly alien sides can truly achieve such a connection.

Octavia E. Butler’s Dawn tackles this question of how empathy operates between two alien sides, as the Oankali attempt to merge their genetics with the last remnants of humanity, offering to create a hybrid species at the cost of human autonomy. Through this, Butler comments on the dynamic of empathy and how humans should engage with it. The Oankali’s approach to empathy differs vastly from that of humans; their process of blending genetic material to create offspring requires intense physical and emotional intimacy, transcending the typical ways in which individuals connect. This is demonstrated in the novel’s first section, where Jdahya explains the operations on the ship, while Lilith reacts with initial disdain and distrust. “We do what you would call genetic engineering… we’re not hierarchical, you see,” Jdahya explains, adding, “Your people will change,” referring to the immense benefits that will arise for humans after nuclear warfare. Lilith responds with, “It’s as alien as you are to me,” and “Let us work it out as human beings… let us alone!”

The exchange between Lilith and Jdahya regarding the reproduction of both species serves as a key metaphor for how empathy operates in the presence of unfamiliar individuals. The Oankali base their ideas of morality and empathy on logic, transcending societal norms typically seen within human society. They manage to connect with Lilith, despite her being entirely alien, by grappling with concepts far beyond the physical appearance of both her and humans. Rather than connecting with Lilith based on who she is, the Oankali determine their future with someone based on the potential for mutual evolution and the biological and emotional connections they can forge in the future.

The Oankali can be viewed as embodying queer identities, capable of appreciating aspects of individuals beyond the superficial—such as the potential for transformation or growth in the future. Lilith represents humanity in many ways, particularly in how she grapples with the Oankali’s offer. Though taken captive by aliens after nuclear warfare, her entire demeanor and reasoning are rooted in the fact that the Oankali are so different from her, leading her to dismiss the logic typically needed for empathy. Her initial reaction to the operations on the ship is deeply entrenched in humanity’s inability to properly connect with anyone who appears different from us. This immediate, illogical disconnection—especially from Lilith’s perspective, as the Oankali saved her life—reflects the central idea that Paul Bloom argues halts empathy: the inability to connect based on logical grounds. Lilith’s initial refusal to consider the Oankali’s perspectives limits her ability to empathize. However, throughout the novel, she begins to open up to them, showing a gradual shift toward a more expansive and critical understanding; eventually, she is the mediator or “bridge” between humanity and the Oankali.  Unfortunately, this gradual opening up for the Oankali cannot be shared by every human within the novel.

As Lilith begins to awaken more humans to train them, it’s easy to predict how the humans will react to the alien species holding them. Nikanj, one of the Oankali, directly addresses these dynamics in the wake of disagreements and conflict among the humans. When Joseph exclaims that the Oankali look “very different,” Nikanj responds, “Different is dangerous to most species. Different is dangerous… it’s safer for you people to overcome the feeling on an individual basis.” Nikanj’s response to Joseph reveals humanity’s struggle with empathy, reflecting the larger social tendency to withhold understanding from those who differ from the norm. 

Having Lilith serve as the mediator in this part of the novel highlights the rejection and resistance that humanity faces when trying to connect with the Oankali. Her struggle to become the common ground between the two vastly different groups underscores the immense effort required to build empathy and form a connection that can’t be achieved through traditional means. This mirrors the real-world challenges queer individuals face when attempting to foster empathy within a society that marginalizes them. Lilith’s role emphasizes the ongoing effort needed to bridge divides between groups that appear irreconcilably different, showcasing how empathy can be stifled by ingrained biases and societal structures.

In conclusion, shaping empathy is a tricky challenge, as it is deeply rooted in years of human evolution that cannot be easily altered. Rather than simply teaching empathy, the ability to accept people who are different cannot be approached from just a cognitive or empathetic perspective. Butler's *Dawn* emphasizes the importance of transcending beyond superficial appearances and surface-level assumptions. By equating the Oankali with queer identity, the novel highlights the need for altering and creating environments that minimize the biases which currently inhibit empathy. Initially, I approached this essay with the mindset of finding a solution to the social issue by tackling empathy itself and seeking ways to increase it across the human population. However, I realized this approach was flawed. Focusing solely on empathy doesn't make sense, because empathy is largely shaped by our surroundings. Thus, altering those environments should be the top priority. Perhaps, in some way, the answer lies in starting fresh—maybe even on Mars.





Bibliography:

  • Polinska, Wioleta. ""Empathy on Trial: Is Empathy Inherently Biased?"." Buddhist-Christian Studies, vol. 40, 2020, p. 403-417. Project MUSE, https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/bcs.2020.0022.

  • Luciano, Dana and Mel Y. Chen. "Introduction: Has the Queer Ever Been Human?" GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, vol. 21 no. 2, 2015, p. iv-207. Project MUSE, https://muse.jhu.edu/article/581599.

  • Poland, Warren S. "The Limits of Empathy." American Imago, vol. 64 no. 1, 2007, p. 87-93. Project MUSE,  https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/aim.2007.0017

  • Butler, Octavia E. Dawn. Warner Books, 1997.

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