The need for compassion in a world where it feels rare

In a week when it seems like everyone is out to get the "small guy," it’s hard not to feel disillusioned. Compassion, mercy, and empathy — qualities that should be at the heart of human interaction—feel increasingly absent. Instead, we are bombarded with a world where people act not because they should, but because they can. It’s difficult not to be turned off by the toxic environment, especially in politics and public discourse, which appears to have abandoned humanity in favour of power plays.

The lack of compassion in modern politics is glaring. It’s no longer just about policies or ideologies; it has devolved into a relentless pursuit of dominance. Every election cycle now feels like a battle for survival. Political decisions, once abstract and distant, have direct and often painful impacts on ordinary lives. Policies designed to uplift and support have been replaced by measures that seem almost designed to exclude or harm. For many, waking up each morning feels like waiting to see whether we’ll be the victims or unwitting participants in the latest attempt to put someone down.

What makes this even harder to stomach is the deterioration of political discourse. Once, politics involved genuine debate and collaboration. Today, social media has replaced conversation, and civility has been replaced by hostility. Every discussion seems to spiral into toxicity, with each side viewing the other as the enemy. Suspicion runs so deep that half the world seems to be perpetually suspicious of the other half. This divide erodes trust and fosters an “us versus them” mentality that makes compassion all but impossible.

For those of us who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, the present moment feels especially disheartening. Back then, our world was marked by its own struggles—terrorism and violence cast long shadows over our lives. But even amid those challenges, there was a sense of shared and outraged humanity, a recognition that we were in this together. Leaders, communities, and individuals often rallied to show kindness and unity in the face of adversity. That sense of connection, though imperfect, gave us hope.

Today, however, hope feels harder to find. Compassion should be the antidote to a divided and cynical world. It’s a simple but transformative act of seeing and valuing the humanity in others, especially those who are vulnerable or marginalised. Compassion doesn’t mean ignoring differences; it means bridging them. It means recognising that behind every label—be it political, social, or cultural—there is a person with fears, dreams, and dignity.

Empathy is equally critical. Understanding another’s pain, even when it doesn’t directly affect us, is the foundation of a just society. Without it, we risk becoming indifferent, allowing injustice to flourish unchecked. Mercy, too, plays a crucial role. In a world obsessed with “winning,” mercy reminds us that strength lies in kindness and forgiveness, not in crushing those we disagree with.

As individuals, we have the power to choose compassion every day. In doing so, we push back against a culture that rewards cruelty and selfishness. The world may feel harsh and divided, but by embracing empathy and mercy, we can rebuild a foundation of trust and humanity—one act of kindness at a time.

 

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