Lives over Likes: Compassionate Care Works When There Is Compassion
Lately, there's been a resounding echo in the ABA world: "compassionate care." Just the other week, I found myself immersed in a wonderful conference where several speakers spoke on the topic. It's not just limited to seminars and workshops. Everywhere I look, there's a growing conversation, a new article, or a spirited discussion about the importance of compassion in our work. I wholeheartedly support this emphasis on compassion—it's essential in virtually every profession...but especially our own. It’s a movement I can get behind.
Amidst this rising tide, I’d like to dedicate a few Fridays to write on it.
There’s a pondering often attributed to Mark Twain.
A quote that encapsulated a skepticism towards blindly following the majority or status quo without thoughtful consideration. It emphasized the value placed on individual thinking. But, if anything, it ascertained that every zeitgeist—even that of compassionate care—comes with nuance and a need for deeper understanding.
"Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."
I certainly consider myself on the side of the majority in regard to compassionate care. Thusly, I reflect.
What does compassionate care genuinely mean? Without clarity, our well-intentioned movement may inadvertently drift off course, leading to unforeseen challenges. It's not just about embracing the concept; it's about understanding its depth and implications fully.
It's undeniably heartwarming to see how our field widely applauds and embraces compassion and empathy. Scroll through any social media platform and it's evident: compassion is in. This is good news! Declarations of empathetic gestures or professions of compassionate belief should garner immediate social approval, amassing likes, shares, and the occasional “Bravo!” comment. On the surface, this is commendable. Reinforcing compassion? Brilliant! Yes, please! But, let's hit the brakes for a moment and consider the nuances.
When compassion becomes the trending currency of social validation, we’re all smart enough to know that there are risks. And, it’s important to think critically about it and ask questions. The true essence of compassion can be overshadowed by the rush to showcase it. Might compassion morph from an authentic, deeply-felt emotion into a performative act—a sort of staged virtuosity? Will people start prioritizing the appearance of compassion over its actual practice? If so, we are akin to placing the spotlight on the form rather than the function. Suddenly, "being compassionate" might mean we've posted a quote on Instagram or tweeted about empathy, but it doesn't confirm our genuine understanding or application of the sentiment.
And, the rabbit hole of these unintended consequences doesn't stop there. A more punitive side might emerge when compassion is reduced merely to social display. If public declarations of compassion are the gold standard, what happens to those who probe deeper, asking how we can genuinely embed compassion in our practices? There’s a danger that this crucial dialogue—full of textured insights and practical questions about compassionate care—might be sidelined or silenced. If the rallying cry becomes a surface-level chant of "Be more compassionate!", without delving into its depths, we risk overshadowing those truly seeking to understand and implement compassion at its core.
The irony? The loudest voices championing "compassionate care" might unintentionally drown out the very voices seeking actionable ways to embody it.
The loudest voices championing "compassionate care" might unintentionally drown out the very voices seeking actionable ways to embody it.
And then we’re back at square one.
The compassionate care movement is too important to screw up.
One way we can screw it up is to make it about us and not about the client and their families.
In fact, it’s not compassion if it’s directed at ourselves. In our case it should be the families and the learners we help! So, the takeaway? We have to make compassion what it is: A willingness to alleviate and/or take on the suffering of others. Not to prime our personal pump of virtuosity. Not to make us feel good. Not to access social reinforcement for us. Not to help us gain good moral altitude and influence over our peers. Not to help us fit into the herd.
Any and all of these when they are the primary mechanisms at play are not compassion. These are self serving. In fact, this contaminates and perverts compassionate care. If our primary purpose in discussing compassionate care is anything but the wellbeing and quality of life of our learners, then we are not compassionate nor are we truly caring.
Ouch! Martin is opinionated this week. (Read in the tone of Jim Gaffigan’s “commentary voice”.)
Certainly I am.
But, getting compassion wrong has consequences—it hurts the learner. And the easiest way to get it wrong is to make it all about us.
What are your thoughts?