These Kids Today - Are They Alright?
I've already said this, but I like to repeat myself: the joy I experience hating the New York Times every weekend is immeasurable. This past weekend was no exception.
I realize that sometimes what I'm hating are the people quoted in articles; that sometimes I'm hating that the front page has no relationship to the Week in Review; that it can not be read as a single text. And I realize these things are not worth hating on the Times, and that it could be seen as a misapprehension of what a newspaper is.
I also realize that in an error of embedded links, I find assertions without evidence to be absolutely maddening. I read the Times and in my head, slam my hand down on the table and rise to object, "Assuming facts not in evidence!" Without the footnotes of embedded links, the reference to facts reported or otherwise documented elsewhere, I question the veracity of the entire piece, and frankly, question the professionalism of both the reporter and the editor. Mostly I blame the editors. They should know better.
What I'm saying is, if I can read your piece and think, "Says who?" you haven't done all the work.
The Sunday Styles section is not really the place to go for hard-nosed reporting. But a piece entitled "From Students, Less Kindness for Strangers" stood out. This was the piece that succeeded in setting me on a rant over brunch in Cobble Hill. You, dear reader, get to read the product of this rant.
The focus of the piece is the results of survey research, in which college students respond to attitudinal statements like:
“I often have tender, concerned feelings for people less fortunate than me” and “I sometimes try to understand my friends better by imagining how things look from their perspective.”
One assumes that these statements are not set up solely for 'agree/disagree' responses; I would guess that these are scaled responses (strongly agree, somewhat agree, etc.). These statements are used to construct a measurement of empathy. The results are in: empathy is in precipitous decline. Fair enough - seems likely, and is easy enough to witness, especially among those in or just out of college. What it doesn't address is whether empathy is a state of being or a skill set acquired with experience. The piece suggests that this is How People Are now, or at least doesn't stop the reader from concluding that empathy is going the way of the Dodo.
The research is not longitudinal in the sense that it follows the sample as they mature and move through life. It doesn't ask these college students these questions over the course of their lifetimes. It asks these questions of a new sample of college students each year. So we don't know whether they ever learn empathy or become more empathetic. And the article doesn't address that at all.
It also doesn't dig much into why college kids' empathy is declining though it flippantly offers an explanation that we can all nod our heads at - and here, then, is the passage that troubled me most:
"Previous studies have documented an increasing narcissism among college students since the late 1980s. And Americans in general perceive decreases in other people's kindness and helpfulness."What happened?... [T]he authors speculate a millenial mixture of video games, social media, reality TV and hyper-competition have left young people self-involved, shallow and unfettered in their individualism and ambition."The implications are hardly superficial. Low empathy is associated with criminal behavior, violence, sexual offenses, aggression when drunk and other antisocial behavior..."
Ah yes, the "that infernal rock and roll music" doctrine of Why These Kids Today Are Doomed. Pardon, for a moment my lawyer's mind here:
- The author of this piece does not establish narcissism as the opposite of empathy. Do these studies measure narcissism or empathy? Lack of concern for some others does not necessarily equal overweening self-regard, manipulativeness, or an absolute inability to care for anyone else.
- The perception of kindness and helpfulness suggests a basis in behavior, not attitudes. These are learned or taught behaviors; picking up litter, holding the door, offering to help someone carry something, offering to help in general - these are socialized behaviors. I could feel terribly sorry for that lady who missed the curb and fell down in front of my gym, and I could help her up. One does not necessarily follow from the other; and the action is not actually dependent upon the emotion. Perhaps I want to be admired (the goal of the narcissist) so I swoop in as the knight in shining armor. I don't have to care at all about this woman, take her perspective or feel her pain. I just have to look good helping her up. Alternatively, I can see her fall and not help her because I am embarrassed for her and think she will not want or accept my help because this will only compound her indignity. I act this way because I do not know how to offer to help her up - that solidarity in the recovery overwhelms the pity and embarrassment of the fall. [Personal aside, a woman with a walker fell the other morning in front of my gym. I asked if she was okay, and offered to help her up; seeing me make this offer, two men swooped in to help her up. Kindness and helpfulness are contagious.]
- And the phrase "is associated" - let's try to remember, shall we, that correlation is not causation. Maybe it doesn't matter but for the purposes of this article the author should be more cautious in suggesting that selfish 19 year olds (really, is there any other kind?) are going to go on a crime spree.
Okay then, now let's move on to my cultural observer's mind:
Video games
It's incredibly easy to blame video games - when most people picture video games, they imagine guns, babes, zombies, bombs. They picture First Person Shooters and games like Grand Theft Auto that - they feel - elevate the criminal. But these are not the only video games that are made or played. I remember watching my brother play Goldeneye and then play The Legend of Zelda. Goldeneye would leave him stressed out and aggressive - he was working very hard to kill or be killed. Zelda would calm him - he was trying to solve puzzles and save the Princess. Goldeneye is a FPS; Zelda is third person - we observe Link rather than embodying him. The point is - not all games are the same. The narratives are different, the goals vary, our perspective taking and presence varies within the game.
There is not nearly enough research on the positive effects of prosocial or problem-solving or casual games, but there is enough to suggest that positive games can have positive influence on empathy. Even within FPS games with female heroines (regardless of their hypersexualized forms), there is some thinking to suggest that male players of female avatars experience empathy for their character; borrowing from the Final Girl theory of slasher movies, some have argued that players submit to and feel care, sympathy and yes, empathy for their female shooter (this theory is troublesome insofar as we think masochism is somehow 'better' than sadism, but hey - all I'm saying is there are many views about the social benefits of gaming).
Social media
How social media - I mean, it's called 'social' for a reason - would diminish empathy isn't argued here. It's simply laid out as a likely culprit. But streaming around the internets the other day was a refutation of the implied notion that social media is somehow a contradiction in terms - social networks, and the social media platforms that support communication amongst these social networks, actually increase our oxytocin levels. Oxytocin is the hormone nursing mothers release during breast feeding; it fosters social recognition, bonding, generosity and trust (while there is a relationship to sexual arousal as well, it's less the 'pleasure chemical' and more the 'nurturing chemical'). According to Mary Roach's book, Bonk, this is a chemical we release when we pet our dogs; it is also a chemical that dogs release when they're being petted - an apt symbol of the mutually beneficial relationship.
So what do they mean when they toss social media out there? Do they mean sexting and cyber-bullying? While this is prevalent and clearly has dangerous effects, it is not the sum total of social behavior online. In fact, one might argue that cyber-bullies are using social platforms for antisocial behavior - and again, there should be some care taken to distinguish between 'social media' and the messages transmitted within it.
Oh also, simple rule of thumb: Be nice, or leave (hat tip: Faris Yakob). And if you are looking for resources to combat sexting and cyber-bullying, look no further than MTV's A Thin Line campaign (hat tip: Jason Rzepka, who I saw present this at the #promise event at IWNY).
Reality TV
Now this one actually may have some merit. "Humilitainment" is a key motivator of reality TV viewers - we aren't voyeurs, we want to feel we are superior to the people on the screen, and we want to see our revenge fantasies played out - in other words, we seek self-importance and vindication. I watch a lot of crap television and love a horror movie, but I have never been able to handle reality TV - it is completely ridiculous, and yet it is too true to life, the worst bits, the parts of high school you'd sooner forget. It's not nice. I'd rather shoot zombies.
But I think this goes towards something more significant in the cultivation of empathy: experience. Let's be clear, the respondents in this study are kids in college, so there is a certain measure of privilege baked in, based merely on the measure that they are able to afford college (or qualify for loans or scholarships) and that there was a social expectation of higher education in their family or community. So, how many have personally experienced embarrassment, failure, loss or injury? How many have benefited from charity, participated in good works for reasons other than resume building, or come to someone's rescue or aid? Even if they have had these experiences, do they have the proper context for them? Has anyone impressed upon them the need for gratitude, or are they immersed in the sense of entitlement?
Hyper competition
This one, I confess, made me laugh. Yes, I laughed - the cold, hard, bitter laugh of someone who actually, you know, competed for stuff. I absolutely must relate an anecdote: A few years ago, I led an internal workshop teaching my colleagues about how advertising agencies in the US evolved, how they work, and how they make ads. Towards the end of the workshop series, I challenged the participants to learn how ads get made first-hand - I had them form teams, write creative briefs and develop ads. For the final session, we would have a party, and a few of the partners would select the winning campaign. In the end, we chose the winner - they had a smart creative idea, and an impressive media idea. We gave them a trophy - the rear end of a horse. The award, we thought, would rotate year to year as we repeated the workshop for new folks and evolved it to better our approach to testing ads.
None of the participants had the guts to complain directly to me, but they did complain to their managers: they thought it was unfair to have a winner. Hadn't they all participated? Hadn't they all completed the assignment? Weren't they all smart and creative?
I was, I'll admit, stunned. All those things were true, but this was a contest! A contest, by definition, has a winner and a loser. But we never did hold that workshop again.
So, where, I have to wonder, does this "hyper competition" come from? Kids (and more accurately, their parents) complain, even sue, when they make poor marks. Schools game the system to make their grads look better or smarter. In fact, in the same Sunday Times that inspired this absurd rant on empathy, there was an article about a high school declining to select a single valedictorian, instead anointing 30 kids with the title. The hidden theme here was that choosing among them would be hard; one assumes that school administrators also wanted to skip the parental and student outrage over making such a choice. But the most ridiculous, naive comment from the piece was this:
"When did we start saying that we should limit the honors so only one person gets the glory?" asked Joe Prisinzano, the Jericho principal.
Um, I think the answer to that is ALWAYS. When you do something as a team, you can share glory as a team. Everybody on the winning team gets a ring at the Super Bowl, sure. But they also anoint a MVP - most valuable player. The team was good, sure, but this guy - this guy was amazing.
In this context, let's remember: your high school transcript is yours. It reflects the work you did - your homework, your test scores, your participation, your activities, your achievement. Sometimes you get screwed when your team-mates on a particular assignment don't pull their weight; sometimes you get to coast because someone else is doing all the work. But honors are supposed to be about getting the glory - that's why they are called honors. No one else can take that test for you, or get that SAT score... When you get a ribbon for participation, and are shielded from the revelation that because you didn't "win" you therefore "lost", it is hard to be empathetic towards someone who has failed. You don't know what it's like, you can't take their perspective.
A personal anecdote: I lost a spelling bee once. The word was "beautician." I was so confident I knew how to spell it that I sped through it and dropped a letter. I lost. I was very sad about it, at 8 years old. My mother was sympathetic, my father brought home balloons and a pin that read, "I'm entitled to be grumpy." That was where the entitlement ended - I wasn't entitled to a conciliatory trophy, or a rematch, only entitled to be disappointed that I hadn't won. This is where empathy begins, and perhaps gives us a signal about where the lack of empathy comes from.
L'ENVOI
I used to work for an agency that believes in failing harder. In fact, the future of technology, media, our culture, is about a fearlessness towards the blank page and the rough draft, of prototyping. Fearlessness comes from the acceptance that you might fail, but the belief that you might succeed, and the willingness to take the risk.
There is an adage in innovation - "Fail often to succeed sooner." Not only do we have less empathy without experience - and experiencing failure - but we have fewer good, breakthrough, useful ideas. We can't totally blame kids for this - they'll gain experience eventually. But we should be looking for ways to teach our kids to fail harder, fail better, to take risks and learn from them, and to take perspectives that are not their own.
I think what I just described is called "learning."
Now please, NYT and University of Michigan academics - do better next time.
