The University of Idaho Argonaut

Last week, students, friends and families gathered at Northern Illinois University to remember those killed in Thursday’s shooting, and across the country sympathetic friends and strangers alike have offered their condolences, comfort and support. NPR news reported that the tragedy at NIU was one of four fatal school shootings within a week. Following terrible events such as these, we see an outpouring of love and empathy. These demonstrations of caring and hope are a testament to the human spirit.

Or maybe not. The sadness which we express over these events is a convenient sadness. It is short-lived (the shootings were last week, no one expects you to be sad this week), and it doesn’t require any action.

Do we really care about human suffering and tragedy? Our actions would tell us that we don’t. We hear many sad stories about the numerous American soldiers who have died in Iraq, but what about the Iraqis who have died? Their number far outweighs the American military casualties, but their deaths do not affect us, so we don’t care. We recall Sept. 11, 2001 as a day of unspeakable tragedy, when more than 3,000 people died, but what about Dec. 26, 2004? On that day, a tsunami caused by an earthquake in the Indian Ocean killed close to 200,000 people, yet I would be surprised if any of our readers could have made that connection to the date (I had to look it up myself). And who is familiar with the situation in Congo, where 45,000 people die every month as a result of a civil war which has killed 5.4 million since 1998? But once again, the Congo is so far away and detached from our lives, why should we care about those people? Given that only 1 in 4 college students can find Iraq on a world map, I would guess that most of us do not even know where Congo is, if we have ever heard of it.

We express sorrow and grief over many tragedies, but only those that affect us closely. If we are honest, I think it is only those which frighten us that get a response. A domestic terrorist attack or the loss a friend or family member in Iraq is something which could happen to us. Civilian deaths in a distant, foreign country, or a natural disaster on the other side of the world are less likely to enter our personal experience, so they don’t matter to us. School shootings upset us deeply not because of the deaths involved, but because they scare us. Six people died at Northern Illinois University, but they could have been me or my friends, so I will feel bad for their families. Five and a half million people died in Congo, but they could never be me, so I don’t care.