emPATHETIC

Raise your hand if you love failblog, failbook, FMyLife or any other kind of “fail” website. Keep them up if you secretly snicker when a trending topic on Twitter is spelled wrong or when someone’s Facebook status says, “Worst. Day. Ever. Fell down dtairs and found out my boyfreind cheated on me.”

"The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote..."

“Learn to spell, emo kid, LOL!” you scoff, smirking at yourself in the reflective glow of your MacBook. You give your hair a final self-satisfied pat, then idly reach for another handful of Gummi Worms. You let them dangle dejectedly from your mouth as you chew haphazardly, continuing to gloat over your peers collective misfortunes as they spill onto your newsfeed — the digital-age version of the Trail of Tears. Safe behind your computer screen, you’re untouchable.

What’s that? This can’t be you. You don’t even like Gummi Worms! You would never be so needlessly hard-hearted. Don’t lower your hand now, we’ve all done it and there’s a reason why:

According to a study from the University of Michigan, Gen Y is the least empathetic generation, well — ever. It’s because the people we interact with on a daily basis are not necessarily people we actually see, you know, like, IRL. A majority of our “human” interactions come from commenting, liking, tweeting or texting. All of these technological mediums cause vocal inflection, facial expression and actual empathetic connections to be lost in a vortex of irrelevancy.

When I first read this study I didn’t (want) to believe it. I generally pride myself on being a generous and compassionate person and I didn’t want to admit that the Internet and social media has reduced my generation to a group of callous, cold-hearted cyborgs. “Nah, that’s not me. I must be in the minority,” I said to myself dismissing this clearly crack theory.

But then I turned on my computer.

I sat sifting through handfuls of tweets about the freed Chilean miners, clicking on various tiny-urls, my eyes, dull and emotionless, reflecting image after image of sheer joy, relief, gratitude; months of strength and resilience dissolving in a momentary lapse of teary-eyed catharsis. As I restlessly skimmed through photo after photo, I realized I felt…nothing. I could blame this on “American privilege,” — being so far removed from the Chilean disaster that it didn’t even seem real to me, but that feels like a poor excuse.

For some reason, we are able to “bond” with reality stars over the most superficial issues (Omigawd, Snooki loves pickles? So do I!! BFF!), but when something truly devastating happens we can’t make ourselves form an empathetic connection. We have been inundated with news about these miners from virtually every media angle for months. As happy as I was that they were finally rescued, I just couldn’t make myself feel.

Look at our everyday lives. Let’s take my earlier Facebook example. Someone posts (spelled correctly this time), “Worst. Day. Ever. Fell down stairs and found out my boyfriend cheated on me.” What’s our response? Usually a halfhearted, slightly-snarky “haha, j/k” or a distracted “aww, lol.”

A “j/k” or a “lol” do not empathy make. Etymologically, “empathy” means “in feeling,” with someone else. In tandem feelings–simply, you can put yourself in their shoes, be they Louboutins or half a pair of piss-yellow crocks some homeless guy salvaged from a dumpster.

We’re so busy trying to achieve our dreams, move out of our parents’ basements and pay off student loans that we have an “every man for himself” mentality. We’re (literally) offspring of the “peace and love” generation, so why can’t we literal love children feel someone else’s pain? Because it would kill our buzz and cramp our style. We put the “pathetic” in “empathetic”– we’re proving everything our parents’ generation thinks about us to be correct. Ask us if we care!

There’s no app for empathy, kids. We need to tear ourselves away from the self-involved Internet love affairs we have with ourselves and get right. Invest in one of those adorable baby/puppy calendars, and find a path back to pathos.