Can we build empathy through Virtual Reality?
Let me start by saying that this post will be more personal than my others as I try to work through the wonderful experiences of the day that are offered by the Evergreen course + SPPG, as well as all who are involved.
The common form of Virtual Reality (VR)(the form using a headset) was developed in 2010 after many other models and forms dating back to the 1950’s. It is an immersive experience that simulates some form of reality while allowing you to interact with virtual features and objects.
Aside from this brief description, I knew nothing about virtual reality, the experiences it could offer or how on earth it could ever build empathy and be used as a tool for policy. What I knew, were the videos of people screaming as they sat atop a virtual roller-coaster, or becoming terrified at an incoming virtual zombie only to be relieved and a little wide eyed upon removing the headset.
Before I go into my own experience with VR I would direct you to watch a compelling TEDtalk on the power of VR on creating an empathy machine, given by Chris Milk. VR can be used as a way to make people see life, virtually, through someone else’s eyes — a refugee, someone with a disability, the realities of some Indigenous reserves, an elderly person etc. It puts you directly into an experience as an observer, in the realest sense you could imagine.
Without knowing any of this information beforehand, I began my VR experience. We were told before putting on the goggles that we would first watch a video called Clouds Over Sidra about a young Syrian girl living in a refugee camp in Jordan, followed by a VICE documentary about a Cut-Off (name of film) Indigenous reserve in Canada. Oh man. Though these were topics I was quite familiar with, I immediately knew that as an already empathetic person — this new format would likely increase that feeling.
As I put the googles on, it was immediately apparent that this would be far different than just watching any old movie on a screen — and I was only at the start screen. As soon as the first documentary started, my heart-rate elevated and as I swiveled my head around to look at my surroundings, I panicked a little. For me, VR felt like being a ghost. I felt uncomfortable when people’s eyes met with mine, constantly having to remind myself that I was actually standing in a strange green box. When I looked around and looked down at the virtual ground, I had no legs, no shadow, no arms, nothing at all. When I saw a shadow pass behind me I instinctively shuffled a little forwards to make room despite my virtual presence.
It was difficult to tell my brain what was happening. I felt the same feelings I did when I was travelling; I tried to take in all of my (virtual) surroundings while listening to these stories being told. There is something extremely and monumentally different about seeing the reality of a refugee camp as if you were there versus through short news clips.
I am an empathetic person, and a lover of new experiences. Being immersed in an experience and seemingly uncomfortably close to people who don’t know you exist is a very strange feeling, and a very thrilling one. While I do see how experiences such as this can provoke thought, further empathy and a deeper visual of realities that people face — I struggle to see how an unsympathetic person may be swayed by this, or how someone could understand or empathize with the poverty, systemic oppression, resilience and hardships faced by an Indigenous community in Shoal Lake.
I do worry about the dangers of hailing VR as a game-changer for empathy building. Separating your eyes from your body is a surreal and incredible experience in order to see through the eyes of someone else. I do not want to take away from the importance of this, because I think it can do a lot of good. But I would also place VR in the category with other empathy building and effective activities such as, real life simulations like one called Desperate Journeys or memoirs and books. The feelings I got from VR could arguably be the physical manifestation of reading a very descriptive account and experience from a novel.
What about VR and policy?
I think that VR’s role in policy could potentially bring a lot of very valuable insights, new ways of thinking, sharing, effective ways of training, education and increasing accessibility needs.
VR could be immeasurably beneficial in schools and in educating children in a more interactive and engaging way. VR could be a way in which increased student engagement could increase learning outcomes or could provide training opportunities for a variety of work (such as medical surgeries).
The improving and changing nature of VR technology is also something that could present many upcoming opportunities. What if VR could be live? This could change the potential of work as we know it — customer service could be in your home, policymakers could see the communities and on the ground issues impacted, the public could be more immersed and involved in political processes, or in understanding and participating in negotiations.
I certainly have no answers, and am left with many questions about the uses of VR. There are many possibilities and an exciting potential future for the use of VR to increase knowledge and sharing among people and communities. If anything, it’s a sure way to alter your sense of reality and opens us up to experiences we never thought possible — which is no small thing.
