Bystander syndrome
A woman named Wong Shuk Yee was struck by a car on Wednesday, somewhere in the northwest suburbs of Calgary. The driver of this car did not stop. The woman’s body became an obstacle to traffic, & two more cars had to swerve to avoid her. Neither stopped. A fourth car struck her again, dragging her (still living) body a short distance before it became detached; & that driver, too, sped on.
Another woman, named Tonja Beach — mother of four — was drinking her morning coffee at a kitchen table by a window to this scene. She heard the thumps, then looked out. She, alone, ran to the stricken woman’s aid. She found Wong Shuk Yee still alive, & conscious, but with ghastly injuries that could not be survived. She held the woman’s hand to comfort her, as she lay dying.
While she was doing so, innumerable other cars passed, without stopping, including several turning into a nearby daycare to drop off kids. At the transit loop across the street, the driver of a waiting bus remained in her seat. Those waiting at the loop continued waiting. Someone must have called 9-1-1, for the police arrived, & the agencies of the state then began standard procedures, to eliminate this road anomaly. A media reporter was duly assigned to ask Tonja Beach how she felt, & to explain to the woman that psychologists refer to such events — which are now quite common — as “bystander syndrome.” (This is one of the “fun facts” you pick up in a place like journalism school.)
The term describes our modern, non-participatory democracy quite well. Everyone is equal, & everyone has rights. We might call them “the rights of the bystander.” One might say that the most fundamental of these rights, on which all others can now be constructed, is the right to assume that “someone else is taking care of it.”
In this case, all but one of the bystanders did nothing. In the case of the Vancouver hockey riot, all the bystanders joined it, but one — one kid who stood up to the crowd to declare “this is wrong” & was then physically attacked by the rioters he had tried to address. We forget that the evil we witness so often in passive form, may also take active forms.
I do not drive a car, I walk wherever I can, though sometimes I am reduced to public transport. As a pedestrian, over the last decade, I have been twice hit by a car, both times while crossing a street with a green light. In only one of these cases was I knocked flat to the asphalt. It was a glancing blow, & I do not think the driver (her attention focused on making an illegal left turn) ever noticed me.
In the other I remained standing. It was dusk, & the driver must not at first have seen me, coming as she did around a slight curve in the road. Had she not hit the brakes hard, I would have been killed. In the event, nothing more than my handprints were left on the shiny front hood of her exquisite luxury sedan. I did not at first realize that one leg had been twisted in such a way that I would be limping for the next two years. I was too angry to notice. I continued to stand in the way of the now stopped car, glaring at the driver. She — a person I took to be a “professional woman” from her dress, the car, & the expression on her face — shouted obscenities to the effect that I’d intentionally stepped into her way. I pointed to the stoplight, as Zeus with thunderbolt, as she rolled up her windows. It had not yet changed from green in my direction, red in hers. Her face changed from self-righteous indignation to that slightly frightened, “victim” look. (“Men are so violent!”) Then, finding me no longer in her way, she suddenly tore off, now round the corner, accelerating up a fairly empty University Avenue. In the euphoria of my anger, I neglected to take her licence number.
This, incidentally, was a moral error on my part. As Socrates explains, rather warmly to the smart Callicles, in the Gorgias, it is better to suffer wrong than to perpetrate wrong. But having done wrong, it is better to be punished than to escape punishment. And this is universally true. By failing to record the licence number (though I had a notebook & pencil on my person) I had let this woman escape punishment. By doing so, I had wronged her. It was my moral duty to see that this woman received the punishment she deserved, for her own sake, & for my own sake as a just man. “Forgiveness,” in the heart, is quite another thing; & injustice is an impediment to that forgiveness.
I have also been twice hit by a bicycle on the sidewalk; knocked over once, & the other time, gently but intentionally nudged by the wheel from behind by the impatient bicyclist — helmeted, visored, & spandexed — after I ignored his cute vocalized “Beep beep!” instruction to get out of his way. That changed immediately to, “Sorry man! Sorry man!” after I spread him out on the sidewalk, & hovered over his prone person shouting, “Quick, give me a reason not to kill you.” Then walked away contented, for justice had been served.
In three of these cases there were plenty of bystanders. In none did any of them intervene. In the two where I ended sprawled on the pavement, & the one where the bicyclist did, I was aware however vaguely of the crowds of people — my fellow pedestrians — simply standing out of the way, then moving along. Given the neighbourhoods, I would guess they all had important shopping to do.
I have extended these anecdotes to make a point. It would be easy to moralize against the effect of cars — these big metal boxes that insulate the people inside from unwanted human contact. And I would be happy to moralize in that way. But the cars, in this matter, are a red herring. The “issue” here is not technological but civilizational. Too, the glib psychologizing about “bystander syndrome,” & the fake empathy in the prying, “How did you feel?” — are themselves symptomatic.
There is one more excuse I should like to kick away. Tonja Beach made it, on behalf of all the parents delivering their kids to daycare, still on her mind many hours later. “You’d think that everyone taking their kids to daycare,” she told the news reporter, “that any one of them would have stopped. I can understand maybe they didn’t want their kids to see that.” (Two guesses on whether this woman is a Christian believer.)
I daresay their kids did “see that.” It is a myth that all children are born blind, deaf, & incapable of thinking. They saw a woman gravely injured, lying helpless in the road, & they saw their parents drive by, & no doubt heard them try to change the subject. For such parents are on a schedule; they cannot let an incident like this, or childish questions about it, slow them down. They may have “clients” waiting. They have colleagues who notice when they are late. They have big salary on the line. Money talks, after all; & they need that money to pay for stuff like daycare, & “a good home.”
Each of these little children has been taught, in a fairly traumatic way, a very important lesson about their parents, who dump them in daycare to get on with their busy lives, as professional people with “priorities.” And I daresay it is a lesson that will have consequences in each of their little lives, however their experience is assimilated. And there will be further consequences when the sensitive child begins reacting to the evil with which he has been contaminated, as at some point he may. His parents will perhaps seek psychological counselling for their “problem child,” & get him dosed with pacifying drugs. That will teach him the final lesson about what his parents are.
But then, let us be charitable. Perhaps the parents in their turn had been raised by similar, morally worthless parents, in this post-Christian society that has come to consider morality itself to be a form of “oppression.”
It is a myth that people have no conscience. Our Maker implanted that in each of us. We all know that voice perfectly well, even those who deny it. It is the voice to which we reply: “There was nothing I could do.” And we still hear the voice, & we reply, more impatiently, more self-righteously: “The woman was a goner. There was nothing I could do for her. I’m not a doctor, I don’t have a medical degree. And besides, if I got involved, I’d be exposing myself to legal consequences. I might get called as a witness. I might get sued for touching her. People are crazy these days, you don’t need to take risks like that.”
This has been the basic “liberal” act, through all ages: as much among the Pharisees as among our modern adepts of “secular humanism.” It is to refute the True, with the Plausible. It is to answer the hard moral argument with the soft tendentious argument; with mild heckling; with pseudo-moral posturing; with a display of insolence if it comes to that; & finally, with “statistics.” It is to be glib, by reflex, persisting into habit. And yet all these responses are founded in an uncompromising & absolutely necessary act of faith: that there is no God who will come in Judgement.
Czeslaw Milosz called this “the true opium of the people.” He defined it as, “a belief in nothingness after death; the huge solace of thinking that for our betrayals, greed, cowardice, murders, we are not going to be judged.”
Symptomatic of an increasingly uncaring society. But there’s always hope and that gets boosted when all members of a community are hit by the same catastrophe. I know. A destructive & deadly earthquake gets people helping each other.
As Mr Speaker knows, I don’t believe in a judgement after we die, except possibly by those still living whom I have helped or to whom I owe money. My experience has been that people of faith are no less likely to suffer the bystander syndrome than atheists. And, let’s face it, fear of judgement is a lousy reason for doing the right thing, whether it is judgement by a God, judgement by a court, or judgement by peers.
An atheist who stops to help somebody, and there are many of us, is far more virtuous than a Christian who helps because he fears judgement in an afterlife. If a person requires a fear of judgement in the afterlife in order to do the right thing, then I seriously question their moral virtue.
The most disturbing, and contradictory thing, is that many liberals, despite rejecting all morality, still hold a strong conviction that they will go straight to some vague “heaven” after death, because they are, after all, “nice” people. Kevin, above, is quite right about the honest, virtuous atheist, acting from stoic notions of morality. However the state of the world, and it is manifestly getting worse, demonstrates that Fear of God, although a lowly motive for doing good, is still the most effective means of encouraging the vast majority of people to behave. It certainly works better than anything else for me!
It is natural for anyone with a belief in God to fear Him. He can after all extinguish the entire universe in an instant. God calls on us to do more than fear Him. Through Jesus, He calls on us to love Him and to trust in His love for us. Therefore he who demonstrates only fear of God will not make Heaven, and he who demonstrates neither fear nor love is damned — however “moral.”
I can hear Mr Middlebrook asking how God can damn him when he is a good person who cannot help his lack of faith. Is God a monster? But it is Mr Middlebrook who damns himself. He says, “I do not believe in God and I do not need Him.” With that affirmation he must do without Him for eternity.
Of course we can all repent before it is too late. God is infinite in His mercy, for which we are all grateful.
To be fair to people like Mr Middlebrook, it appears to me that there are some individuals to whom God, in His Wisdom, does not grant the grace of Faith, but who are possessed of a conscience like everyone else, and follow it conscientiously, not realising who they are obeying, and I have a gut feeling that He will be quite welcoming of them, if they are accepting of Him when they finally know Him. I would distinguish them clearly from those who did receive this grace, but yet rejected it. I am always reminded of St Thomas, who couldn’t believe in the Resurrection without seeing the evidence for himself, despite having known personally and intimately our Lord and His words and works, including having witnessed many miracles. Our Lord didn’t send him away, but rather gently chided him and eventually welcomed him straight to his side in Heaven.
I had a similar experience to Ms Wong Shuk Yee at one point in my life; a light changed, and I sprinted away on my bicycle, to be struck by somebody running the red light. I was wearing a helmet; even so, I do not remember the impact, merely looking up to see everyone looking at me, three lanes farther north than I had been when I started. But my mind was clear, and I was sure I could not get up. In order to communicate that to everyone I presumed to be waiting for me to do so, I screamed as loud as I could. People promptly exited their cars to help me. But that was some twenty years past. Things might now be different.
Ouch. As Solzhenitsyn said, “The line between good and evil goes through each human heart.”
“Bystander Syndrome” is a rather stupid euphemism for “being an ass.” Let me explain with a personal anecdote that has stuck with me the last couple of years. I was standing in line on a day of no particular importance at the University of Oklahoma, passing the time by people watching. A girl whom I did not know was walking by when she dropped her books and papers. This happened directly in front of me and not four feet away. She dropped to her knees to gather her belongings as I, well, I stood there and watched. I was, after all, in line! The girl looked up and saw me standing there watching her. She made eye contact. She looked at me with contempt and said only one word: “Ass.” And then she turned on her heel and marched off.
“Bystander Syndrome”? No. I was being an Ass. Born and raised south of the Mason-Dixon Line, I was raised to be a gentleman, and yet, I failed at so simple and easy an opportunity to display the bare minimum of chivalry. Out of selfishness and habit I stood and watched, because how could I inconvenience myself by losing my place in the queue? I stood dumbfounded, in shock at my failure. The contempt that I felt for myself in that moment surely outweighed the contempt that the girl felt for me.
The whole incident lasted no more than four or five seconds, but I will never forget the way that girl looked a me. As long as our diseased culture uses these horrible euphemisms to hide from how wretched we have allowed ourselves to become, we will see many more incidents like the one in Calgary. And most of us will avert our eyes and drive on by.
I’m writing from America where there are many bystander stories, but I just want to say I’m so glad you’re alright after all those events! (Glad, also, that the bicyclist must’ve given you a reason to let him live!)
I see no reason why an atheist should be any more or less capable of discernment than a believer, and discerning God’s will in a moment of crisis seems likely to be based less on one’s theology than are most judgements.
When I heard the unmistakable sound of a (90 mph) head-on collision 50 feet from my front door a few months back and saw the twisted wreckage next to my mailbox, my wife — whose beliefs are the same as mine — yelled to me not to go to it, but my only conscious thought, as I ran out the door, was, “I hope that thing doesn’t blow up.” (It didn’t, and air bags had done their job so, thankfully, there were no mangled bodies to deal with.)
I think the author underestimates the role of abject fear as a paralyzing influence in the events in the essay, but my main point is that, if divine revelation exists at all, then anyone can be open to it and can do what’s right in the moment, even if their world view precludes the existence of right and wrong as such.
It’s at the level of what is accepted and rejected or encouraged and discouraged culturally where we see the different outcomes of Christendom and atheism most clearly, less than in the impulses that are generated by the heat of the moment. Here is where the application of the atheist’s theology, as has been demonstrated time and again, runs a very restrictive gamut between failure and catastrophe.
The tendency to perceive good as evil and evil as good is increasingly pervasive in the West, and it is at this level that life has again become cheap and expendable rather than precious. And that goes for the lives of the bystanders and the victims both.
“We men and women are all in the same boat, upon a stormy sea. We owe to each other a terrible and tragic loyalty.”
~ G.K. Chesterton, “Christmas,” All Things Considered.
Mr Leahy makes a good point.
Let’s hope we don’t have to wait around for help from someone who is doing it from the goodness of their heart, to use a phrase. I don’t care why I am being helped as long as I am helped.
There is something nonsensical about Mr Middlebrook’s argument. He should reread the quote from Milosz and think about it. If we live with a sense of our lives being weighed and measured by our Creator then we work in tandem with perfection and therefore take our lives seriously. That is the beginning of moral virtue. Sure we hope to have fine moral fibre, but does it come naturally or because God says we ought to be good? Fear of reprisal was one of the ways I learned to be good. My parents might leap out at me “like brigands from behind a bush.”
And who actually believes that a society of atheists is possibly more morally pure than one which believes in God? Come on.
M. Pepall
Venice
Mr Speaker, if you will allow me to respond to the comment made by the honourable M. Pepall. I don’t believe that I said that an atheist society would be more morally pure than one that believes in God, although I would be willing to participate in that debate. I simply said that an atheist that provides assistance because it is the right thing to do is more virtuous than someone of faith who does it out of fear of judgement in the afterlife. I didn’t think that this claim would be controversial. It seems self evident.
But on the subject of this essay I would argue that we have all been guilty of this, and it isn’t necessarily evil. We all think that we would act quickly and appropriately. But until it happens, how do we know? The “appropriate” action is seldom in question. It is the “quickly” that most of us fail at. Acting quickly out of rage is easy, as I am sure that David would agree was the case when he knocked down the biker. But I am sure that he would admit that his quick reaction was not appropriate.
I have been in a couple of circumstances where I have administered first aid. But in both cases, there were no other people in close proximity. Would I have acted in the same way if others were present? I would hope so, but I don’t know.
Great post and I like the phrase “bystander syndrome.” I’d attribute the passerby behavior more toward Edvard Munch’s “The Scream,” the original German title of which is “Der Schrei der Nature” (The Scream of Nature). Mr Munch later rendered this as a poem:
“I was walking along the road with two friends / the sun was setting / suddenly the sky turned blood red / I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence / there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city / my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety / and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.”
I would like to say I’d have stopped my car and jumped to aid the poor lady, but I can’t know that for sure. But if I did, it would be by instinct, not anything else. Where would that instinct come from?
Clint Lewis said, “Where would that instinct come from?”
A good question. Where does Hope, or its opposite Despair come from? Did someone say they evolved? Don’t make me laugh. Hope and Despair are the ultimate expression of Free Will. Take Hope for example: Hope is the universal craving for mercy, which is engraved on all human hearts and is completely incompatible with Darwin’s theory of natural selection (a.k.a. survival of the fittest), which by its own rule would completely crush any sign of mercy at the moment of hatching. But the fact is mercy exists: we have all experienced it; either by receiving it or dispensing it, or at different times both. The By Stander Syndrome is the clear indication that Mercy has atrophied in the heart of the beholder except where the exceptional individual steps in to help. See Gospel of Saint Luke 10:29–37.
A woman was hit by several moving vehicles recently in suburban Atlanta and no one went to her aid. I’d been wondering if this had also happened in other regions. Sadly to say it has. What a crazy world we now live in. I don’t need to read a debate about whether there is a G-d or not to know this kind of behavior is sinful — to not help another human being who needs life-saving assistance. Recently while walking my very strong dog along Peachtree St, he pulled me so hard to get at a cat that I fell. People rushed to help me up, thank goodness for their kindness. It happened again several weeks later and two people rushed to help me up. Have faith for people we have contact with and pray for a society that has lost its way. Ask G-d to especially Bless the people who help us when we need help. G-d never fails us!
The ancient Jews, I believe, were wise enough to say that the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. This would imply that helping someone out of fear of divine consequences is a good thing indeed.
On the other hand, an atheist cannot argue that something is better than something else, for that requires acknowledgment of absolute good, which is acknowledgment of God.
So the contention that the atheist acting in the right is better than a believer acting out of fear is not only not self-evident but self-refuting.
Thank you, Mr Speaker — I, for one, appreciate some occasional light psychology to balance the heavy philosophy. With extreme caution — who would have guessed that Mr Speaker sometimes channels Dirty Harry? — let me venture an observation. One of the main arguments for religion is that a valid moral code requires the imprimatur of a Higher Power which can only be accessed through the arguer’s Church of Choice. Thus it is notable that Mr Speaker should assert that every individual comes equipped, courtesy of God, with a conscience. How could one have a conscience without an inherent sense of right and wrong? It seems to me that the universality of individual conscience is a good argument for a blessed God but a poor one for any religion’s exclusive access to valid morality.
Just so, Mr Estey. Morality is “catholic” (universal) in the very broadest sense; & God doesn’t wait for people to become Roman Catholics before making His demands of them. Through conscience, He is already “on the case” of e.g. atheists such as Lord Kevin of Acartia.
As to Dirty Harry, I have yet to see how I did the wrong thing. The bicyclist in question, as I could see from his face, was a basically “nice” fellow who had made a silly but significant mistake in judgement, through impatience; while performing the technically illegal act of riding on the sidewalk. His response to being spread out on it showed him essentially quite harmless. Thanks to quick & decisive punishment, I would guess he is now cured of the temptation ever to make that mistake again. And all done without the slightest intervention of the state’s cumbersome bureaucracy, or any permanent physical harm.
Sorry, Mr Speaker, my reference to Mr Callahan was not meant as a rebuke — it was just a spontaneous reaction to a more aggressive than expected pursuit of justice.
I well remember an occasion many years ago via somebody who having lived in China was talking of his experiences per radio broadcast & this gentleman recounted how a well known harem scarem local youth was hurtling on his bicycle and struck an old man creaking across the road. A crowd quickly assembled and made some on the spot decisions. The “living alone” old man’s leg was broken & it was decreed that as soon as he had returned home the youth would move in with him and care for his needs. They started their relationship as enemies but six months on had become inseparable friends. Community natural law and common sense at work pointing to the mistake many non Christians make about authentic Christianity which has nothing to do with building better societies but everything to do with individual salvation from which the by-product is a better society. Remove Redemption from the mix & you have stepped onto the slippery slope — from my perspective we are already half way down it.
I think it’s pressure. We’re being squooze from all sides, and people under pressure behave badly. I am not sure there is an answer. You could ignore the pressure and quit striving so hard, but given most people’s circumstances I am not sure things would be any better. If you really want to be depressed, watch some Japanese science fiction animated movies. That stuff is almost too realistic.