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Who Is My Neighbor?

Do we routinely think of those with whom we have little in common as neighbors?

In October 2011, a two-year-old girl wandered away from her home in the Chinese city of Foshan and was struck by a van. Closed-circuit TV captured the incident and showed that the child was left alone while at least 18 people passed by without providing aid. Ultimately Chen Xianmei, a female garbage collector, stepped in to help; but the girl died from her injuries eight days later.

The video footage later went viral, and many were appalled by how many people passed by without offering to help. In an effort to promote more compassion, a “Stop Apathy” social media campaign followed.

But how exactly do we stop apathy? And how was Chen Xianmei able to tap into compassion when others couldn’t?

To Act or Not to Act?

People may choose to intervene (or not to intervene) in a given scenario for a number of reasons.

For example, in China at the time of the toddler’s death, there were no national Good Samaritan laws, and there had been prominent examples in the media of victims taking their would-be aiders to court for medical expenses or even accusing them of causing the injuries. Xianmei herself faced accusations that she’d intervened in order to gain fame, attention or even a reward. Many commentators speculated that bystanders may have been fearful of these kinds of repercussions. Additionally, a common scam in the region involved someone feigning an injury and extorting money from bystanders. Considering these cultural circumstances, it’s easier to understand why so many may have hesitated.

Cultural influences impact Western nations too. Those who grew up in the United States or the United Kingdom during the era of “Stranger Danger” public service campaigns may have encouraged an overly wary attitude toward strangers. While it started as an understandable response to a number of high-profile abduction cases, and some of its advice was useful (such as warning children not to get into cars with anyone they didn’t know), it largely ignored the fact that most children were abducted by someone they did know. The misdirected emphasis may have contributed to a fearful approach that now extends to strangers and foreigners more broadly. 

Alternatively, for someone raised in an area where the southern African concept of ubuntu is practiced, there may be a more naturally compassionate posture toward strangers. This concept emphasizes a collective and interconnected view of humanity, where the community’s interests are prioritized over the interests of individuals. Such cultural factors may affect our comfort level in approaching someone unfamiliar.

In addition to cultural influences, our brains are subject to a number of biases that may aid or hinder our ability to rise to the occasion on behalf of strangers.

Have we ever been frustrated by a driver on the road and demeaned their entire existence, but later excused ourselves for executing the same careless act? This could be an example of the cognitive bias known as fundamental attribution error. When others make a mistake, we attribute it to their poor character; but when we make the same error, we tend to justify it or dismiss it as an aberration.

Or perhaps we might pass someone in need without offering help because, unconsciously, we believe their plight is the natural consequence of prior unwise choices. In that case, we would have fallen prey to the just world fallacy—the assumption that everyone gets what they deserve.

Believing in a just world is comforting—it creates order and predictability, rather than acknowledging the capricious nature of things.”

Casey Jo Humbyrd, “Virtue Ethics in a Value-Driven World: The Just-World Fallacy”

When multiple people are present, the bystander effect could come into play, resulting in diffusion of responsibility: No one is quite sure who should act, so no one does.

These (and many other) biases are largely unconscious, but we often neglect to question such mental shortcuts. When it comes to strangers, this can mean failing to recognize the common humanity between us and someone in need, and understanding that we, too, could find ourselves in a distressing situation.

Any (or all) of these factors may influence our ability to approach a stranger in need.

Us” and “Them”

In an effort to feel safe, we often search for similarities and groups that make us feel more comfortable. It’s natural to seek out people with whom we easily connect. And identifying these similarities can help us feel a sense of belonging. Finding others who are like-minded, who share our interests and values, helps increase engagement when we might otherwise feel alienated. It can also provide connections for people going through rare and unusual circumstances, offering access to others with similar experiences. All of this can serve to strengthen a social foundation that, at its best, supports all of us.

Research suggests that these easier in-group connections can also impact how well we empathize. A review of functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) studies found that when people see members of an in-group receive painful stimulation, they’re likely to show activity in regions of the brain associated with watching others in pain. While that comes as no surprise, the opposite is also true. When the same person watches a member of an out-group in pain, those same regions of the brain are less likely to activate. This suggests that we struggle more to empathize across group divides.

Equally concerning is the way in which we differentiate along group lines. Groups that may seem harmless can still ultimately result in bias against nonmembers. Even a study of preschool children sorted randomly into “red” and “blue” groups shows a favorable bias toward those in their own group. Another study of opposing soccer fans shows that they were more likely to intervene to reduce pain in in-group than in out-group members.

Protect Your Peace?

Encouragingly, studies also show that if we are able to relate with members of the out-group, it can lead to more empathy and compassionate actions to reduce pain. Cognitive exercises that help us identify our concern for those close to us and then practice directing that level of concern toward those we don’t know have proven very successful. Hundreds of studies agree that the more we learn, know and relate to members of out-groups, the more easily we can recognize a common humanity and tap into compassion.

Here is the definition I use as a compassion scientist. Compassion involves: 1) an awareness of another’s suffering, 2) a benevolent emotional response to this suffering, and 3) a desire or motivation to help relieve that suffering.”

Jennifer Mascaro, “The Science of Compassion,” Insights (Mind and Life Institute, 2021)

Unfortunately, we experience many cultural pulls to do exactly the opposite, causing us to drift toward further isolation. As conversations increasingly move online, short-form discussions on social media make it difficult to provide context and nuance around complex issues and instead favor memes, pithy jokes and insults. Our digital experience is becoming increasingly hyper-personalized, with less access to differing groups, ideas and perspectives.

One concern in the digital landscape is the increased access to more polarizing, biased or skewed content. The term “algorithmic radicalization” has been coined to describe the theory that social media sites such as YouTube, Facebook and TikTok can drive people to consume increasingly radical content. Though studies produce conflicting results as to whether the algorithm or the user is the primary driver of radicalized content, certainly there is a clear increase in access to radicalized content. And this can promote a skewed version of reality. Our lack of appetite for differing ideas may harm our ability to empathize more broadly.

At the same time, pop-psych movements encourage us to “protect our peace” by surrounding ourselves with people who share our worldview. Understood accurately, the concept aims to help people establish healthy boundaries and foster meaningful connection. But if our primary goal is to find and engage with people we already agree with, one is left to wonder whether we’re missing opportunities to wrestle with difficult, complex and nuanced ideas.

Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt explored this phenomenon in their controversial 2018 book, The Coddling of the American Mind. In their view, college campuses had experienced increasingly distorted emotional reasoning and us-versus-them thinking. The authors attributed these thought patterns to a culture of “safetyism,” whereby students are shielded from complex ideas to the point that they confuse what is simply uncomfortable with what is unsafe. The authors suggested that this lack of viewpoint diversity contributes to witch hunts and even physical violence, referencing examples such as the Berkeley protests in 2017, where initially peaceful protests turned violent when masked agitators turned up.

Critics of the book point to straw-man arguments and flawed premises underpinning some of their more sweeping claims. But Lukianoff and Haidt do make a valid point about the increasing inability to discuss difficult topics calmly and instead to escalate toward violence. It’s clear, however, that a lack of tolerance to opposing ideas is not restricted to college campuses. Though some argue that censorship has long been a college-campus issue, we see it in every corner of society.

The impulse to silence those we disagree with isn’t confined to any one generation, economic status, institution or ideology, and research confirms what we see in everyday headlines. For instance, Emily Kubin and her team of psychologists found in 2024 that censorship feels justified when the ideas seem harmful or false to us. Another group of researchers found that, further, people across the political spectrum engage in “canceling” at similar rates—and each side interprets its own response as just and their opponent’s as censorship. This shows up at every level: in workplace firings over social media posts, in government legislation, in music and arts, in business patronage—wherever we can identify something we perceive as a threat to our moral values. The difficulty in tolerating opposing views appears to be a thoroughly human problem, not just a campus one.

In an ideal world, rational people who encounter new evidence that contradicts their beliefs would evaluate the facts and change their views accordingly. But that’s generally not how things go in the real world.”

Keith M. Bellizzi, “Cognitive Biases and Brain Biology Help Explain Why Facts Don’t Change Minds”

Respectfully sparring with those who hold differing ideas is easier said than done. Maintaining composure and being willing to listen to an argument that challenges our worldview is never easy. At times it may feel uncomfortable and perhaps even offensive. But could it be worth working toward broadening our perspective while maintaining composure and compassion, even in those difficult moments?

It would seem so, especially considering that increased polarization has been identified as a major risk to global stability. The World Economic Forum “Global Risks Report” for 2025 indicates that two of the top four short-term global risks are “misinformation and disinformation” and “societal polarization.”

The Allure of Polarization

With polarization being associated with increases in violence and disconnection, it’s a wonder that it has such a hold on society. What’s the allure?

Soren Kaplan, author and affiliate at the Center for Effective Organizations at the University of Southern California, observes that polarization feels good. It fulfills a psychological need for belonging and sense of purpose. There’s comfort in finding people with similar views. It provides concrete, black-and-white answers in a world that often feels confusing and ambiguous. However, too often, polarization leads to dehumanization of those with opposing views. So while a sense of belonging may be fostered within a prescribed group, anyone with different opinions becomes an enemy.

Brené Brown, leading researcher at the University of Houston, describes some of the devastating side effects of forming common-enemy groups in her book Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone. She notes, “Common enemy intimacy is counterfeit connection and the opposite of true belonging. If the bond we share with others is simply that we hate the same people, the intimacy we experience is often intense, immediately gratifying and an easy way to discharge outrage and pain. It is not, however, fuel for real connection.”

It’s easy to see how tempting it may be to engage in polarizing discourse, but ultimately we won’t find the connection we seek.

The Value of Discomfort

Human relationships are complex, nuanced, ambiguous and, at times, confusing. We’re all human, which means we’re all capable of great good and great harm—toward strangers and acquaintances alike. And our ability to handle the nebulous nature of the human experience is critical to moving through it with reasonableness, kindness and compassion.

If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago, Volume 1

This is not a new idea. Max Gluckman, a South African and British social anthropologist, noted in 1955 that societies often form whereby members can be both friends and enemies with the same person over different issues. People may connect with others on a variety of allegiances, but by having many interdependent relationships, no one loyalty becomes dominant. He posits that precisely because of these interdependencies, conflict is kept in check. Consequently, societies that encourage regularly interacting with people that both share and diverge from our views adds a layer of social stability.

Kaplan describes it this way, “Empathy. Humility. Intellectual curiosity. The ability to sit with ambiguity. These are the qualities that polarization quietly erodes, even as it promises belonging and meaning.” These are the pillars on which we find compassion and empathy for our fellow human beings and build a truly loving community.

The temptation to separate ourselves into factions, tribes, parties or groups is certainly very strong. But we gain immense value and opportunity for growth from considering the risks; belonging to a group that we think is better than another can give us a false sense of security and comfort, and its danger lies in devaluing the humanity of those in other groups.

While we may identify with various ideals and movements, are we still able to find compassion for people who think differently?

The Good Neighbor

As we’ve seen, a number of obstacles can get in the way of our good intentions toward others. Even if there aren’t ideological or other differences, we can let laziness, apathy or even fear of repercussions stop us from acting to show compassion where someone has a need.

Finding compassion in difficult circumstances may be elusive but not impossible. Chen Xianmei’s actions in trying to help the injured child offer an encouraging reminder of what we all are capable of when we prioritize compassion in our lives. Accounts like hers are often described as “good Samaritan” stories, named after the biblical parable in which an unlikely bypasser provided aid to a stranger who was the victim of robbery and physical abuse.

“‘Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’”

Luke 10:36–37 (New Revised Standard Version)

Interestingly, the account immediately follows what’s often called the Golden Rule: “Love your neighbor as yourself,” a foundational moral principle in many societies. But the parable is an answer to a challenge. After hearing the Golden Rule taught, a lawyer asked, “And who is my neighbor?” He was looking for a legal loophole so he could decide who warranted compassion and empathy and, consequently, who didn’t (Luke 10:25–37).

One can’t help but notice similar attitudes today. Our polarized and divisive global environment may seem unique to our time, but it’s an issue that has plagued humanity for millennia. The parable is set in an equally divided first-century Judea. Before the Samaritan arrived, two others had passed by; they’re identified as a priest and a Levite, esteemed religious figures who would have been expected to lend a compassionate hand to a stranger in accordance with their law. Samaritans, on the other hand, represented a group with whom Jews had longstanding animosity. Identifying the protagonist as a Samaritan would have been surprising to the original audience.

The answer to “Who is my neighbor?” lies in the parable of the good Samaritan. It was as instructive then as it is now and invites us to shift our focus. The good Samaritan showed that anyone who cultivates an empathetic and compassionate attitude can make a profound impact on someone in need. Focusing on whether someone deserves compassion misses the mark. Rather, our focus should be on how to cultivate compassion in our lives.

We all have opportunities to show empathy and compassion to those around us. But fear, division and dehumanizing mindsets put us all at risk of seeing people as Other instead of as fellow human beings. To develop the skill of viewing each person we encounter with compassion requires moving beyond group affiliation to recognize our common humanity and to promote kindness and care toward all, even those with whom we may disagree.

Good Samaritan stories typically describe extraordinary actions. Indeed, in the parable, the Samaritan went above and beyond to perform a beautiful act of kindness. But compassion can also be demonstrated by a listening ear, patience, a desire for understanding and many other attributes. Even in the most ordinary of circumstances, we can find opportunities to foster compassion and become a better neighbor.