The View From Next Door: Why Proximity is the Key to Empathy

We live in a world that often rewards self-interest. From the hustle of personal ambition to the marketing that constantly urges us to prioritize our own needs, the message can feel clear: look out for number one. Yet, this intense focus on "me and mine" often comes at a steep cost—a creeping deficit of empathy for the person next to us, or even the people we never meet.

The true test of our humanity lies not just in how we care for ourselves and our immediate family, but in our willingness to look outward and genuinely consider the impact of our choices on others.

The Litmus Test of the Mask

A powerful recent example of this inward focus was the widespread debate over public health measures during the COVID-19 pandemic. For many, mask mandates became an abstract battle over personal freedom. The refrain was, "This is ridiculous, my rights are being taken away, and it's not a big deal anyway."

This staunch, uncompromising position often revealed a specific kind of privilege: the privilege of not being personally affected. If you or a loved one had been hospitalized, lost a family member, or were immunocompromised, the mask was not a symbol of oppression; it was a simple, visible act of mutual protection.

When a crisis does not touch your door, it’s easy to dismiss it as an inconvenience or even a conspiracy.

This pattern isn't unique to a pandemic. It repeats across almost every major social issue:

• Addiction: If your family has never been devastated by substance abuse, it is easier to view people with addiction as simply lacking willpower or moral character.

• Homelessness: If you've never faced housing insecurity, it is simpler to see people experiencing homelessness as a nuisance rather than as individuals failed by systems and circumstances.

• Racism and Inequality: If you belong to the dominant culture, the daily reality of systemic prejudice can feel distant or exaggerated, making it easier to oppose reforms aimed at equity.

Proximity Breeds Empathy

As author, speaker, and comedian Tyler Merritt eloquently put it in his book, I Take My Coffee Black, “Proximity breeds empathy, and with empathy, humanity has a fighting chance.”

Merritt's point is foundational: Empathy is not a feeling we can conjure in a vacuum. It is the natural result of closeness. When you are proximate to someone—when you hear their story, see their struggle firsthand, and recognize their shared humanity—it becomes incredibly difficult to maintain a rigid, self-centered worldview.

Proximity forces a shift in perspective. It moves a problem from the realm of political debate or news headlines into the realm of personal reality. When you stand next to someone whose life is directly improved by a policy or directly hindered by an injustice, that issue is no longer about your convenience or your rights; it's about their life.

The Neighbor’s Vote

Consider the simple question I've posed to others around election time: "When you vote, do you vote for yourself, or do you vote for your neighbor?"

While it is natural to want the best for yourself and your immediate family, a frequent answer—"I vote for myself and my family"—serves as a powerful litmus test for a purely inward-focused worldview.

Self-growth, at its core, is the awareness that you share this world with 8 billion other people. An evolved sense of civic responsibility is recognizing that what is 'best for me' cannot come at the systematic expense of my community, my neighbor, or the strangers I will never meet. True success for a society isn't measured by the comfort of its most privileged, but by the dignity and well-being of its most vulnerable.

The challenge is to actively choose an outward gaze. It requires intentionally seeking proximity to lives and experiences different from your own—reading books by diverse authors, listening to voices from marginalized communities, or simply striking up a conversation with someone whose life path seems vastly different than yours.

Ultimately, humanity's fighting chance rests on our ability to expand our circle of compassion beyond "me and mine."

The next time you face a choice—in the voting booth, at work, or even just in a conversation—ask yourself: What does the view look like from next door?

©Lisa King, LPC