“The Imprisonment of Compassion in the Social Media Age”
In the age of social media, kindness and compassion are no longer silent sentiments; they are being captured in the frame of the camera. Today, most of the help is done for ‘likes’ and ‘followers’ and not out of true humanity. Help has now become a ‘content,’ and the dignity of the needy is often sacrificed in this display. This article leads us to introspection—are we really helping, or are we just creating an image of kindness on social media?
Today’s era has become the era of ‘digital compassion,’ where values like humanity, charity, and empathy are now recorded in the flash of the camera instead of silent sentiments. Earlier, when the tradition of “Do good and put it in the river” was alive, it has now changed to “Do good and put it on social media.” Through this article, we will do a literary and social review of this trend.
The feeling of benevolence is one of the most sacred human instincts. It is the natural human quality that drives us to empathy, compassion, and cooperation. But today it has been brought to the stage—a stage where there is applause, comments, and, most importantly, a camera that makes every moment “visible.”
There was a time when if an old person was seen hungry, people passing by would give him something to eat without saying anything or looking at him. Today the same scene is seen, but the camera is taken out first. The angle in which the plate is visible is more important than the hungry person’s plate. Service is no longer straightforward; it has turned into a scripted act.
The soul of modern man has now become hungry for likes, shares, and comments. After helping someone, we get satisfaction only when someone says, “Wow, you are very kindhearted.” The satisfaction that the mind used to get after helping earlier has now been replaced by the satisfaction of ‘increasing followers.’
This not only scratches the soul of humanity but also hurts the dignity of the person receiving help. The person who is helped gets his needs fulfilled, but his privacy and self-respect are stripped off one by one in front of social media.
Imagine if there were no cameras, no audience, no one to clap—would you still do the same help? This question points to the need to look within ourselves. If compassion is true, it will remain anonymous. If it is a performance, it is not compassion—it is digital branding.
Today, many times it seems that helping has become a scripted event. The video first shows the pitiable condition of the person being helped, then the help being provided, and finally the face of the helper, like a hero. All this is done so cleanly that the video looks like a film, with music, titles, and a subtle message at the end.
The biggest sufferer in all this is morality. To make someone need a spectacle is an attack on that person’s existence. Is the suffering of a hungry person any less if his hunger is not recorded on camera? Is compassion only worthy if it is in the public domain?
This new morality lives only to be seen by others. Now even ‘kindness’ has become a currency—something that has to be shown, counted. Selfless service has been replaced by selfish display.
Hearing all this, the writer’s writings are now filled with sarcasm. Imagine a scene—a person is lying unconscious on the roadside. A ‘social warrior’ arrives, and with him, his cameraman. First, some photos, then a video: “We picked him up, gave him water, called an ambulance,” and then the caption: “Together we can bring about a change.”
Comments come in—”Wow Bhaisahab, you are an angel.” No one seems to think whether the man wanted to be on camera. Should he have been shown publicly in the most vulnerable state of his life?
Today, goodness has also become a commodity. It has a market value. The more goodness a person does (or rather, shows), the higher his social rating becomes. Sometimes this goodness is political, sometimes it is under Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR), and sometimes it is for personal brand building.
In such a situation, where does real compassion hide? Does it now survive only in poetry? Does it now breathe only in the couplets of Kabir and Tulsi?
It is time to think. Is the one who helps greater or the one who receives help? If someone is hungry, is it necessary to take a picture of their hunger? Is his consent not necessary? If we make his suffering ‘content’ while helping him, are we helping or consuming it?
Today, when pictures of goodness float on social media, they are giving a new direction to society—a direction where service has also become a part of show-off. We must introspect again.
Kindness is silent, and its impact silently enters the heart. If we want to make this society better, then we need to help someone without a camera, without a stage, and any selfishness. Kindness is not a picture; it is a line of sympathy that goes from heart to heart, without asking for any proof.
