My Kingdom for a Horse
I'll start by saying I'm one of those people who was sincerely saddened to hear the news yesterday that Barbaro, the Kentucky Derby winner who broke down in the second leg of the Triple Crown last spring. I grew up in Louisville, and every year have picked my Derby horse and usually faithfully watched the race only to see that horse finish somewhere towards the rear.
Last spring I picked Barbaro, and while I'd love to say it was based on some fine analysis of his record, pedigree, confirmation, it was really because of his attitude. I'd never watched one of his races but I saw him work on tape and that was it - I was sold. Like many fans, I was thrilled to see that promise realized on Derby Day, and like them, I really thought that at last, within my lifetime, I would see the Triple Crown won.
When I heard the news, I went to the various news sites and read the articles and the tributes, and then at the last moment clicked onto the New York Times, which had set up a post encouraging readers to share their thoughts.
Most shared their sympathies with the Jacksons, Barbaro's owners, and the veterinary staff at the New Bolton Center. Several expressed outrage at the horse racing industry in general, and what they called the callous decisions of the owners at all points of Barbaro's career.
What was most puzzling to me though was the outright hostility of others with regards to the outpouring of emotion generated by Barbaro's death. Several comments were one line only: "It's just a horse." Now, I think anyone who has had a pet would take issue with that statement, so I'll leave that one alone.
But I did want to abuse the forum here a bit to say my piece with regards to other comments, which dealt with some sort of perceived contradiction between caring about a horse and the many problems facing us all in the world. (They usually ran along the lines of, why don't the folks posting about how sad they are for Barbaro care about say, Darfur, AIDS, global warming, the war in Iraq, child poverty, malaria, etc., etc., etc.)
Somehow there seems to be a feeling in some folks out there that compassion is some sort of finite resource: caring about a horse automatically means we can't care about people. Love one thing, and then love another, and you must love less.
Really? I am usually the most cynical person in the room, and this seems an incredibly sad statement about the human race.
Are people really born with a finite amount of empathy? We as a society do not have a perfect system of making choices. While I might want us to address any number of problems in the world, the fact is I cannot force those choices on anyone. Instead, I have to do what I can to help where I can, and trust that others care enough to help where I cannot.
All of us make choices every day to show what we care about: we spend our time, our money, our energy to show the world what we wish to about ourselves. We wear T-shirts, go to rallies, sign petitions or watch TV, and each thing makes a statement about who we are and what we believe.
I believe that the world can take a moment and appreciate the fall of a horse, as goes the fall of a sparrow. If we believe life is sacred, then all life is sacred, and all should be valued. If we can care about a horse, it gives me hope we can care about others. If we can pause and think of what it is like to lose something we care about, then we can imagine what it is to lose something more precious than a racehorse. Perhaps we can imagine losing a limb ourselves or losing a loved one.
This is the imagination that will fuel our choices, and those moments we pass through each day leave lasting memories that we carry forward each time we leave the house. If we lose the ability to empathize with the sufferings of others, the loss of others, we lose what makes us human. To be sad because others are sad, to feel pain because others feel pain, hopefully means we think twice before we make those choices and argue for those actions that cause others loss and pain.
All of us get chances to make statements with our lives, and there are far worse statements to make than that we cared, however briefly and however deeply, about the loss of any life.
2 comments:
Cheers to you Cassandra.
While I do tend to believe that people have a finite amount of empathy to give during their lifetimes. These limitations are driven by our time on this planet, the need to provide for our person and the desire to accomplish certain life events (e.g., education, marriage, childern, running that 5K). All of which are understandable reasons to reduce one's dedication to empathy for others. If one didn't do things for themselves then there would be very little in the way of other lives to empathize with, wouldn't there?
Anyway, even if our reserves of empathy are limited there should always be some empathy even for the smallest of causes. Whether that be a horse who touched people's lives and made them happy by its performance or a child with a bruised knee it is all worth it and it all makes the world a better place. If you think about it, on the margin, one person caring for a horse may bring about more results than the 8 millionth person concerned about a given disease.
If one didn't do things for themselves then there would be very little in the way of other lives to empathize with, wouldn't there?
Hector, how very Ayne Rand-ian of you.
I recall a discussion in one of her inpenitrable tombs about the selfishness of alturism, in that people generally do good works as a way of inflating their own egos. The above reminded me of that theory.
But seriously, I think you may be conflating empathy with action. Time, dollars, expended effort, etc. are indeed finite in nature and some degree of pesudo-economic decision-making must be undertaken to allocate those resources.
Empathy, on the other hand, is limitless, as it costs nothing to empathise. While one can argue that empathy without action is sort of an empty vessel, without putting words in her mouth, I think Cassandra's point was precicely that empathising with Barbaro has no effect on either empathy or action with respect to the host of evils which we face in this world.
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