A few months back I shared a blogpost post entitled “It happens to us every day.” Throughout the post the intended message was that grief is not a singular event. It doesn’t stop and start. When we are forced to live without someone so dear to us, grief happens to us again and again. Click here for full blogpost.
As we move into a new year, I wanted to share a different perspective on this theme. Most of the content shared in this blog is created from a place of learning to live without someone we love. But today, I am stepping away from the grief theme, and going straight for the core of another challenge we face on a daily basis: Systematic Dehumanization. Little by little, dent by dent, we are literally losing critical aspects of our humanity in a “death by a thousand cuts” manner.
Definition from Oxford Languages:
de·hu·man·i·za·tion: 1. the process of depriving a person or group of positive human qualities.
Today’s blog is about how we as humans are perpetuating dehumanization without knowing it, and identifying small actions we can do to maintain our civility.
As we move through the world there is endless interaction potential between us, and the world around us. But these intersections are shutting down one by one. Here are a couple of scenarios that illustrate this point. See if any of them resonate.
Have you ever:
- Approached the check-out section of a store, only to find the line is backed up for “self-check out” while there is only one live cashier among many kiosks originally designed to accommodate shoppers?
- Waited on hold for a live person, for an extended period, only to be disconnected and having to start over?
- Tried to find a new doctor?
- Sat in a business meeting where everyone stares at their phones until it begins?
- Attempted to replace your phone?
- Called an “agency” of any kind and been unable to get a live person who actually has the capacity to assist?
- Had a problem with a chosen cable/internet service?
- Driven through a fast-food (double) line where the consumer is incentivized so strongly to use the (non-human) “mobile app” that there are separate parking places for you if you do, and they will bring your food out to your parked car?
- Received a “sales” pitch from a health care provider, that boasted a sale on something that until now has never been commoditized? For example: “20% reduction on various lab tests and procedures at our location! Book your next test today!”
- Noticed the aggregate decline of our ability to peruse, select and purchase items in an actual store? And noticed the resultant shutdown of various smaller businesses and even massive retail chains altogether?
- Experienced a live person in any capacity that is unwilling or unable to do anything to help the situation for which you are seeking assistance?
These are just a few day-to-day examples of how we might experience dents to the foundation of our humanity, not because any of them are “serious” but because they chip away at our faith in the system. What system? The system in which we believe that if we seek help we will find it; that if we are kind others will be also; that there are certain aspects of life that should not be commoditized, like health care. Every time we have a chance to interact with the world around us, we find there is less and less humanity in the room. (Spoiler Alert: It’s us up to us to bring it!)
So, let’s agree, for purposes of this post, that it indeed seems harder than ever to get help with anything, anywhere, anytime. As a quick example, I once flew with Zach from Atlanta to WDC. Since I carry his feeding pump in my carry on, it somehow fell out of my bag (in the trunk on the way to the airport I think) and I didn’t realize it until we were all the way home. After making several panicked phone calls to our medical supply company, I finally reached the driver of the vehicle that was due to bring us a replacement pump.
When I told this driver we needed them pump by bedtime (Zach was fed by machine over 12 hour stretches at that time) he literally laughed. He was amused by our predicament on a “Now, that’s funny!” fashion. He said it was impossible to bring a pump that evening.
I told him I wasn’t ordering a pizza and that this was a critical, life support machine that we needed. After he refused to entertain the possibility of finding a way to help, I spent the next 24 hours feeding Zach by gravity, via two-ounce syringes (one cc at a time) as that was the only way he could digest his nutrition. (And thank God we’re not THERE, anymore!). The pump was delivered the following afternoon.
I share this experience to illustrate the nuance of what “death by a thousand cuts” feels like. To begin with, the pump was my responsibility, and I blew it, so I own the mistake. But in that ownership of my part, there was no humanity on the other end to say: “Wow that sucks…Hey listen, I feel your pain but there is no way to get a pump delivered tonight. Perhaps you can talk with his doctor about other options? Or I can put you in touch with the distributor and make sure your delivery is first on the schedule for tomorrow?”
There was only sarcasm and apathy. He literally responded with a laugh that had him coughing, and said: “Lady, that’s never going to happen.”
I am not suggesting the driver could have waived a magic wand and make my serious mistake go away. I am saying that sprinkling in a bit of humanity, empathy, kindness or at a minimum some respect for our situation on his part was indicated. The fact that we allow ourselves to be amused by or worse, validated by the suffering of others is a crime against humanity.
If the only people who needed human nurturing were on the asking end of things, that would be one problem. But the bigger debacle brewing is that apathy in our world is not limited to a certain number of people. We all feel it. On some level we are living our own version of “Lady, that’s never going to happen.”
To demonstrate this point, consider the potential (and for our purposes fabricated) experience of that medical device delivery person. Perhaps his day went something like: The number of machines he was told to deliver that day was significantly higher than his normal load. Five extra deliveries nowhere near each other already meant he would miss dinner with his family and get home after his youngest child went to sleep. One of the machines he delivered was faulty and he had to return to pick it up, and tell the family there was not another one.
On top of that, the driver’s dispatcher has ordered him to be the backup assist for a colleague whose company van broke down. He will have to make sure that van’s items get where they are going also, before clocking out.
During one of his deliveries, he got a parking ticket, which wouldn’t be a big deal but since he has so many, he knows underneath that he could lose his license. While attempting to refuel, his company credit card didn’t work. It was frozen because of his backed-up expense reports and his lack of regular receipt submission. So, he used his personal charge card, which will get him into trouble at home. But what choice did he have?
Toward the end of the day, he gets a phone call from me, a nameless, faceless human that he has no connection to or care for, demanding he do even more in his day. I can almost hear him telling the story to his pals over a beer: “Can you believe it? This lady was so arrogant, she thought I would drop everything and drive to Montgomery County. All I could do was laugh! I said ‘Lady, that’s never going to happen.” She’s nuts!
In conclusion, we are all feeling the painful effects of “death by a thousand cuts” through the chronic dehumanization of our culture and our world. There is no major solution either. We are not reverting to previous technologies, the horse has left the proverbial Artificial Intelligence barn, and self-driving trucks are on the rise.
But even if we can’t solve the whole problem, there are two things we CAN do:
- Be mindful that when interacting with ANYone, they have their own bag of shit to manage.
- Find common ground. Sometimes letting someone know you see them by saying something like “It must be a tough job having to drive all over the DMV with much needed medical equipment” can disarm the other person so a human-to-human interaction can ensue, instead of an anonymous, robotic, transactional deal.
Is doing either or both these things easy? Certainly not. Did I feel like making a human connection when that driver laughed in my completely vulnerable face? Hell no. And it didn’t help in that situation.
But there are situations where it does make a difference. Next time you are communicating over the phone with someone at a call center of any kind, try beginning the conversation with “How are you today, _____? (Including the person’s name to let them know they are seen.). Another way to try this is to ask where they are located geographically. We can even ask about their local weather.
If you’re not yet inspired to fight for our day-to-day civility, think about how all of the “Happy Holidays” and “Happy New Year” sentiments have softened our experience of the world over the recent holiday season. It is so subtle, yet ending a call, or any interaction with a simple care for the other changes the energy of the entire engagement.
I understand this is not easy. But neither is death by a thousand cuts. We have to be intentional about acting as human BEINGS and not just creatures. The way we do that is to remember that this too shall pass, and that the person we are interacting with might have an even worse deal than we feel we do.
Give it a shot and let us know how it goes!