Good post, thanks.
I haven’t abandoned it completely, but I am now a lot less sure about how to make use of the concept. I’m wary of getting into the psychology, since my level of analysis is societal, but in fact your example, taken from your own military experience, makes me think that we can treat desensitization in terms of social structure: it’s not just individual habituation, it’s a process structured by group conventions and institutional expectations. There is something to what you are saying, but I don’t want to claim anything so straightforward as viewing execution videos => lack of empathy on an individual level.
So, maybe the kind of desensitization I’ve been aiming at all along is not just, or even especially, to do with too much exposure, i.e., the numbing effect of repeated exposure.
So, take the Milgram experiment. The desensitization of the participants wasn’t a numbing effect caused by repetition, but a result of the institutional context that made the shocks seem legitimate (so a combination of authority and what I’ve been calling distancing), and the gradual escalation that made each step feel like it didn’t matter much—all leading to a diffusion of responsibility. This is desensitization as a social phenomenon, not just a psychological one.
Which is not to say that the numbing effect of repeated exposure doesn’t happen.
When you say that consuming extreme media requires a necessary suppression of the person’s capacity for empathy, that makes it sound like empathy is a fixed capacity. But maybe empathy is not a faculty that exists independently of the situations we’re in, but is more like something that’s situationally constituted and appears or disappears depending on the structure of the encounter. It’s something that happens paradigmatically in the face-to-face encounter, and derivatively when viewing violence and suffering on a screen. Regarding the latter, the claim that over-exposure numbs the faculty of empathy depends on the consequence, namely that people will be less empathetic in face-to-face encounters—otherwise, why worry?
But the structural description of the same phenomenon, as a change in the social and institutional context of exposure to violence and suffering, doesn’t depend on this empirical result. We don’t need to show that people who watch death videos become less empathetic toward their friends or colleagues. What matters is that there might be a progressive replacement of face-to-face encounters with screen-mediated ones, and a corresponding constriction of the social spaces where empathy, as a response to the face, is even possible.
So I’m not sure we even need to defend the claim that desensitization leads to reductions in empathy that can be measured. I think what I want to do is describe the transformation of the moral field, the way that empathy is being structurally displaced. This can be a significant change and even a very bad one, even while people continue being really nice to those who are close to them.
Yeah, I can’t take it myself: I have to look away at the violence in almost every movie these days, never mind extreme horror or real violence and death. So I definitely feel the same. But I try not to let it intrude, because there’s a feeling of self-righteousness in it that I just don’t trust any more. It may come from a good place—I trust the source, as in Levinas’s source of morality—but it too easily becomes a moral consolation and a source of thoughtless indignation: I’m still affected, therefore I’m still moral and properly human, unlike the awful masses. I suspect this is as much a performance as the moral outrage that @Tom_Storm and I were talking about earlier in the discussion. Thus it would be part of the problem it attempts to critique: a performance of sensitivity that floats free, costing nothing and changing nothing. It allows us to feel virtuous without having to confront the structural conditions that produce what we’re observing.
Point is, I sympathize, but it’s something to be wary of.
Sure, but availability isn’t some external thing imposed on a steady-state civilization; it’s produced by specific technological, economic, and social conditions. I’d go further and say that how human beings think changed in modernity too: genocide, as something carefully and calmly carried out through normal institutions, was not something people had always wanted to do and it just had to wait on technology and organization to catch up. It was only thinkable in modernity, with the technical and organizational means, as well as the ideologies surrounding scientific racism. Obviously mass killings had happened before, but the kind of mass extermination carried out by ordinary people filling out forms and consulting train timetables, all while thinking they were helping to cure a kind of infectious disease—this was something new in means and in the way people thought.
But I realize you’re not talking about genocide. Maybe the same kind of logic applies directly to social media exposure too: it’s not that a static human nature makes use of changing means, but that people’s subjectivity is shaped by new structures of encounter.
I think this is actually very much in line with the OP. They heard the pleas but did not perceive them as moral demands to a sufficient extent to override authority, due to the distancing mechanism of placing a wall between two people who were physically quite close.
That they experienced PTSD shows that they weren’t psychopaths; the point is that they continued anyway. So maybe we have two kinds of distancing:
- No moral demand experienced, as in the workers who proudly built the gas vans for the Nazis
- Moral demand experienced but overridden, as in the Milgram experiments
I’m not quite sure where scrolling past death lies here.
In any case, maybe we just need to make it more general. As Bauman put it:
In a nutshell, Milgram suggested and proved that inhumanity is a matter of social relationships. As the latter are rationalized and technically perfected, so is the capacity and the efficiency of the social production of inhumanity.
— Bauman, Modernity and The Holocaust