Understanding Empathy — Diary of a Social Anthropologist
In sociology and before that in social anthropology, a long-standing method of research has been the Participant Observation. Commonly used in ethnography — the scientific study and description of human groups (cultures, institutions, societies, etc.) — participant observation involves immersing oneself into the socio-cultural context of the group that one is studying — a long-drawn inductive practice of becoming one of them, thinking like them, to be able to write authentically about them. Central to this practice, the starting point is empathy — the unbiased, unprejudiced eye — the tabula rasa mind.
Ethnography has its historical routes in pre-Hispanic Mesoamerica explored by Spanish missionaries such as Bernardino de Sahagún in the 16th Century. To understand these cultures was to mobilise missionary conversion of the natives as a goal. Participant observation, likewise, originated in the colonial desire to govern the natives of Asia, Africa and Latin America. Social anthropology of the 19th century was inspired by evolutionary studies on one hand and study of folklore and non-European cultures on the other.
The first instance of the colonial participant observation too came from Latin America from Frank Hamilton Cushing’s work on Zuni tribes of New Mexico in the mid-19th century. The inductive method of research was however epitomised by Polish anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski in the 1920s through his extensive work on the Trobriand Islanders of Papua New Guinea in Oceania. The man is hailed as the ‘father of social anthropology’ today and is taught in introductory sociology and social anthropology in several academic institutions around the world. He gave the world even more such anthropologists such as E.E. Evans Pritchard who studied the Nuer tribe of Southern Sudan or Edmund Leach who studied Highland Burma in the mid 20th century.
Malinowski’s work is the reference point for modern ethnography. Moreover, his work elucidated a certain respect or even admiration for the aboriginal natives he was so diligently studying. He lived with them, learning their language, engaging in their day to day activities as a part of their commune. He lived in the Trobriand Islands amongst the natives completely detached from the European civilisation he was a part of (apart from rare visits by a photographer) from 1914 till 1918. His writing on magic, science and religion painted a revolutionary picture of the sound reason and logic behind seemingly religious practices of a primitive community. In a way, Malinowski’s work questioned the idea of the West being the custodians of scientific knowledge and reasoning.
It was only decades later when his personal diary was found that this entire notion of the appreciative anthropologist in harmony with his field came crashing. It was a ‘big deal’ for the social science academia which idealised this man as the epitome of empathy. The diary held contempt for the natives, resentment towards even his closest respondents, disgust at their practices and constant anxiety over his own health. It even contained the n-word! Malinowski, the person, was tainted forever as a narcissistic, egotistic psychopath. The anthropological fraternity distanced itself from the contents of this diary published by Malinowski’s second wife and widow, posthumously. The diary had no introductory note about Malinowski’s context. It was published as it is, open to interpretation by anyone who reads it. One of the greatest anthropologists of all time, Raymond Firth, who wrote an introduction to a later edition of the published diary, called it ‘a footnote to the history of anthropology’. Largely the reactions to the diary in social science circles of the time were either of complete dismissal or of great disappointment. The greatest work of ethnography, the greatest exercise in empathy had suddenly turned out to be an illusion — a sham.
Hardly anyone could show empathy to a man clearly experiencing culture shock in a place where he had no one to call his own. Unfamiliar territory, climate, food, language, customs, mannerisms and rituals — a man in an island with no family or friend for company. A man who wasn’t yet an established anthropologist. He was insecure. The diary shows a man with an ailing mind in desperate need for an outlet. Incidentally, Malinowski was strongly against racial discrimination in his public life. Hence, he was also seen as a hypocrite. Apart from the notable exceptions of Clifford Geertz and George W. Stocking who tried to show how the diary was actually a purge, a coping strategy for the lonely anthropologist, most people chose to be politically correct. No one considered that the diary could have been the only thing which made it possible for him to author the most splendid work of his lifetime. Political correctness took over empathy in the public reception of his diary in the academic world.
As a social scientist, I can’t help but feel slightly bad for Malinowski. He was first put on a pedestal and dehumanised. Then after his death, his privacy was violated. He never got a chance to explain the contents of his diary. Taken outside of its context, years later, the diary became a blot on his work and on his reputation built over a lifetime. For a man born in Poland before the first World War when racist terms were in common parlance, theories of white supremacy were not challenged just yet, and ideas of nationalism were in nascent, harmless stages, Malinowski’s thoughts and ideas — the language in which he conveyed them, were consistent with his context. But more than half a decade later, when two world wars had already ended, the Black Panthers Movement had taken off, Malinowski could not possibly be spared. Moral responsibility of the anthropologists and the intellectual world at large, for decades of injustice towards non-white populations, was a baggage they could not afford to drop even if they themselves never participated in any such act. There was no way to be absolutely certain if Malinowski’s feelings were limited to the pages of his diary. The choice to not show empathy to Malinowski was based on the political and social need to show more empathy towards a large group of people who had been deprived of their basic human rights for decades. It could not have been easy.
If Malinowski was someone in our times, he would have lost his social reputation, professional credibility and probably stripped off of all his honours. He would have been removed from text books. His picture would not have adorned the wall of my old classroom in Hindu College in Delhi.
Just for putting his darkest, ugliest thoughts on paper that he neither intended nor consented to be published, created a furore in the late 1960s and 1970s. If he was a man of our times, the internet would be full of articles titled, ‘Famous Yale anthropologist was racist. #BoycottAnthropology trends on Twitter’; or worse ‘Malinowski Racist. Widow reveals all in new book’. If he was a man of our times, his three daughters would be subjected to merciless trolling on the internet with rape and death threats. Meanwhile his widow who published his manuscript without his consent would appear on the TV debates and exclusive interviews. She would probably be approached by OTT platforms for hefty sums of money so as to make a series on the tormented, unpleasant character of Malinowski. She too would be called out for a metaphorical digging of gold on social media. Furthermore, his excellent students too would get hit in the crossfire with a public trial on social media. Their personal lives would be opened up for scrutiny and commentary. The topic will be a furore on social media and news forums till the next sensational, juicy piece of news replaces it.
‘Put yourself in someone else’s shoes and walk a mile in them’
This timeless adage is often repeated to us to remind us to think before we judge someone, or to be considerate. Empathy — from experience I can say, cannot be fully achieved. Because no matter what you do, someone else’s shoes would always be exactly that — not your own.
Someone else’s shoes will most certainly not fit us. They could be too large, too small, too tight, a shape that does not feel comfortable despite being the exact size. Other people’s shoes, might be perfect for them, but are uncomfortable for us. The mere thought that we are wearing someone else’s shoes itself could be enough to make us squirm. Yet that precisely is the point. Empathy is what might save us humans from killing one another and wiping out our own from the face of the planet.
Empathy — the first lesson in social sciences — needs you to truly identify and acknowledge the reason behind human action, without any judgement be it positive or negative. This isn’t easy even when the said human action is non-threatening such as people conducting charitable events, people cheering for a particular sporting team at a stadium or online, or people obsessed with virtual gaming. To empathise is to be able to understand even those actions which you yourself might not be able to relate to. Such as why a person engaged in domestic violence, or why a soldier decided to open fire on innocent people, or what would motivate a teenager to commit crimes such as robbery, rape or murder. Empathy requires you to understand why a woman would finally open up about abuse several decades after it happened. It also requires you to understand why a woman would accuse a man of abuse after engaging in a sexual relationship with him with prior informed consent. Empathy requires you to understand a situation by putting aside your own opinion about it. It’s the least human thing to do. Yet it is the most humane practice in building intervention policies for mental health, deciding punishment and reform for convicted criminals, counselling and rehabilitating juveniles or just studying a community such as the Trobriand Islanders without allowing your horrible feelings and twisted thoughts about people and their practices get in the way of your search for the truth.
Empathy is flawed. Perfect empathy is unachievable. Yet, trying relentlessly to achieve empathy in public life can actually bring out a just and inclusive society. Empathy comes from maintaining respect at least in the public domain. A conscious practice of empathy in the public domain may eventually make people more considerate even in their private lives. Conscious attempts at understanding others often lead to accepting others more easily. I may be a very religious person, and I might passionately disagree and dislike people who question my faith, but I can consciously choose to not let those feelings guide my actions in areas where they may adversely affect these people I consider ‘others’. And as I consciously interact with these ‘others’ in a respectable and considerate manner, I receive respect and consideration in return sooner or later, and I might begin to wonder why I was so angry with them after all. This would require mindful self-awareness. To be able to achieve that, we all need a Malinowski’s diary, metaphorically. The more we purge our own problematic thoughts by engaging with them, the more self-aware we are. Malinowski’s diary was a lavatory for his mind. Definitely not for public viewing.
Empathy comes from self awareness. It is required all the more in the digital age with open borders, real and virtual. The policemen who killed George Floyd must indeed be punished. Yet we also need to create a safe space for police personnel to actually realise their own strengths and weaknesses, to recognise their own biases and to be able to find ways to prevent them from affecting their job persona. A training in empathy might prevent another George Floyd from dying. In the Indian context, it might save hundreds of people like Jayaraj and Fenix from gruesome custodial deaths. If empathy as a basic form of being considerate and respectful towards others was taught in schools, maybe we would have a lower number of cases of cyber-bullying and juvenile crimes than what we have currently. There would not be a ‘Bois Locker Room’ or racist ‘Zoombombing’.
Ethnography or not, prolonged interactions with unfamiliar people in unfamiliar settings puts one through a considerable amount of stress. Everyone has a different way to process it. No matter how much we familiarise ourselves, we will never fully belong. We know we never will fully be able to relate. The relationships in such settings may not always be straightforward. Psychologists, workers in rehabs and prisons, or soldiers in conflict zones would be able to understand this. During my own fieldwork I wrote page after page about the sheer guilt I felt for conducting research in a slum and coming back to a posh South Delhi house to write my findings for a dissertation they would never read. I wrote about the gut wrenching fear when I was followed by a man in pitch dark as it rained on one of the coldest days of January. Or the gratitude I felt for the lady who served me tea when she noticed I had a cold. These cannot enter my research because a scientific code must not be violated. At most I would write a line or two under limitations. Without those diary entries, without that mindful engagement with my own self, my ugliest thoughts, my greatest anxieties, they would enter my work and it would lose its credibility. After all, despite his disconcerting diary, which should never have been published, Malinowski survived in social anthropology, immortalised. It is because he consciously practised empathy where it mattered the most.
