The Shadow Side of Compassion
Those who have endured great suffering, and have since transformed it into an irreducible force for meaning, were once pitied by compassionate witnesses who failed to see that the sufferer’s enduring spirit could not come to the surface without his pain. It is as if his sympathizers felt it in their power to determine the degree to which his suffering was unnecessary—they probably thought it not at all necessary, and even evil. I have learned to not be so arrogant as to think that I know what one should and should not suffer. I only know that enduring suffering is perhaps best carried out by aiming to suffer well, to face it head-on, and with heroic fortitude. And in doing so, the sufferer would be most fortunate if only someone, who does not pity him nor makes compassion a priority, urges him to respond forthrightly to his suffering.
I do not wish to shield anyone from their suffering, for I would then be complicit in the diminution of the precise aspect within him that redeems himself—their inner hero. My views here have not come to me through great intellectual, contemplative analysis. Instead, they have come to me through my ignorance—or should I say my arrogance—in believing I knew it best that the sufferer should indeed not have to endure his suffering. In the strict adherence to the virtue of compassion, we are blind to its Shadow.
In such a virtue, we will ourselves—or rather our virtue wills us—to see only that the suffering must first and foremost end immediately and that there is no good in it. This is the great fallacy with compassion: we interfere with the sufferer’s own path as if we know what is best for him, or at least the fallacy lies in our interfering being carried out unconsciously. Therefore, if we are so compelled to aid our fellow sufferer, let first ask him what suffering he must endure—only he can declare as much—and when we have understood it, and only then, and only with his invitation to do so, let us not offer a way out of his suffering but instead deliver a method of a way through it, a method of giving meaning to his path.
For those in the grips of the virtue of compassion, there is all too often an even stronger aversion to suffering that lies beneath. It is the Shadow of compassion, that pathological, maddening, and detrimental aspect of compassion to which we fall victim when we cannot—or will not—tolerate suffering for any reason whatsoever. But, as one may rightfully assert, the virtue of compassion also means that value is placed on easing the pain of others. And this is good. Well, so long as we consider the whole of the person rather than hyper-focusing on their suffering and the pain it causes us.
How then do we reconcile this? While we need this nurturing element in humanity, it becomes pathological when we neglect to see its dark side. Even in less severe cases, it is still a distant indication of the madness that too much compassion can breed, such as Munchausen by proxy. Even though it may be subtle, when compassion is prioritized over understanding the suffering one endures, it urges the sufferer away from his opportunity for greatness that can only come from such a path. To prevent the sufferer from attaining heroic form because we cannot bear to know that suffering abounds is the real tragedy. The Shadow side of compassion looms darker than the suffering itself, for nothing meaningful comes from it. Therefore, ask not how you can alleviate your brother’s or sister’s suffering; instead, ask what you can do to aid in their giving meaning to it. Perhaps, simply existing with them and their suffering without trying to help them make sense of it is the most compassionate and beautiful thing you can do in such a situation.
