Another wonderful newsletter. I'm left thinking about my interactions with others, and what they say about me. I've tried to have more empathy in the last few years, even when I think the person or their positions are abhorrent. It has taken some time to recognize that empathy does not mean I have to like—or even tolerate—what I hear. The seeds were planted the first time I read a biography of Bob Knight. I found myself thinking "wow, he's such a miserable person. I pity him." I still think he's a pretty terrible person, but I came to understand _why_ a little better.
But it's also true that empathy is a privileged position to take. I can afford to try to understand someone's motivations because they're not out to get _me_. There's some karmic (for lack of a better word) power in being able to tap into empathy even when you're oppressed, but I would certainly not demand it of anyone.
So what's the answer? I have no idea. But I appreciated this newsletter, as well as Christian's post that you shared. Thanks, Danielle!
Joan Didion observed that "Writers are always selling someone out." Janet Malcolm went further in her book "The Journalist and the Murderer" and stated: "Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible. He is a kind of confidence man, preying on people’s vanity, ignorance or loneliness, gaining their trust and betraying them without remorse. . . . Journalists justify their treachery in various ways according to their temperaments. The more pompous talk about freedom of speech and ‘the public’s right to know’; the least talented talk about Art; the seemliest murmur about earning a living.”
The few times I have interacted with journalists, I have always remembered that they are not your friend (or foe, necessarily), but their motivation is not to make you look good, intelligent, or reasonable. Their motive is to get material to complete their story.
Another wonderful newsletter. I'm left thinking about my interactions with others, and what they say about me. I've tried to have more empathy in the last few years, even when I think the person or their positions are abhorrent. It has taken some time to recognize that empathy does not mean I have to like—or even tolerate—what I hear. The seeds were planted the first time I read a biography of Bob Knight. I found myself thinking "wow, he's such a miserable person. I pity him." I still think he's a pretty terrible person, but I came to understand _why_ a little better.
But it's also true that empathy is a privileged position to take. I can afford to try to understand someone's motivations because they're not out to get _me_. There's some karmic (for lack of a better word) power in being able to tap into empathy even when you're oppressed, but I would certainly not demand it of anyone.
So what's the answer? I have no idea. But I appreciated this newsletter, as well as Christian's post that you shared. Thanks, Danielle!
Wonderfully engaging and intriguing essay. Thanks for sharing your perspective.
Joan Didion observed that "Writers are always selling someone out." Janet Malcolm went further in her book "The Journalist and the Murderer" and stated: "Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible. He is a kind of confidence man, preying on people’s vanity, ignorance or loneliness, gaining their trust and betraying them without remorse. . . . Journalists justify their treachery in various ways according to their temperaments. The more pompous talk about freedom of speech and ‘the public’s right to know’; the least talented talk about Art; the seemliest murmur about earning a living.”
The few times I have interacted with journalists, I have always remembered that they are not your friend (or foe, necessarily), but their motivation is not to make you look good, intelligent, or reasonable. Their motive is to get material to complete their story.