I don’t have a handy exercise regimen, but I’ll toss in my two cents.
An exercise I often do in this space involves explicitly looking for symmetry: if I am judging someone for doing X, I look for and articulate ways in which I also do X; if I am feeling aggrieved because Y has happened to me, I look for and articulate ways in which Y has also happened to other people. I doubt it helps build empathy directly, but it helps me curtail some reflexes that seem incompatible with empathy.
Another involves building models of worlds in addition to people: if someone is behaving in a way that seems inconsistent with how the world actually is, I try to work out in some detail how the world would have to be for their behavior to make sense… or, rather, what the minimal changes would have to be. It seems like something that ought not make a difference, and yet it does: the way I approach someone who I model as operating in a fictional world where everyone is a dangerous threat, for example, is different (and much more compassionate) than the way I approach someone who I model as being frightened of everyone.
Taking a step back… I find it’s helpful to remember that every time someone seems to be doing or saying something unconscionably stupid, or thoughtless, or evil, or otherwise behaving in ways that I want to classify as other-than-me, that’s an opportunity to instead practice empathy and compassion. (I don’t mean to suggest here that one ought to practice empathy and compassion in such cases; I don’t think that’s a useful claim to make in this context.)
Taking a step back… I find it’s helpful to remember that every time someone seems to be doing or saying something unconscionably stupid, or thoughtless, or evil, or otherwise behaving in ways that I want to classify as other-than-me, that’s an opportunity to instead practice empathy and compassion.
I think this is an excellent point. From most people’s own point of view, they never do anything stupid, thoughtless, or evil. Everything is justified as the best or only course of action that anyone they consider reasonable could take when put into the same circumstances. If you look at what they’re doing and judge it to be stupid, thoughtless, or evil, and you don’t understand how they could see it otherwise, then your model of them is incomplete. This method has almost always worked for me in terms of figuring out the missing bit of my model, and usually works for reducing frustration. (Sometimes my own emotional response is still “I know I’d do exactly the same thing in your place, but it’s still freaking annoying!”)
I agree with this point as well, and I think it bears emphasizing.
Awhile ago, I had a series of conversations with a friend who was having problems with people in her workplace. She would complain along the lines of, “I just can’t believe that X would just shuffle a problem over to my desk. It was X’s responsibility to solve the problem; X must be trying to get me in trouble with the boss.”
Or similar formulations.
It gradually became clear that her go-to modality was to think that if other people aggravated her, it was because they were doing it on purpose.
I pointed out to her that practically nobody in the world enjoys maliciousness, meanness, etc. and that, given the choice of ascribing a person’s actions to maliciousness, when it was just as plausible that the real motivation was thoughtlessness, misunderstanding, or ignorance, one should only opt for maliciousness if there’s a number of REALLY GOOD REASONS to think the person would behave that way.
Ultimately, we all want to get along with those around us. Usually, when we don’t, it’s misunderstanding to blame.
Well, sometimes people really are out to get you. My brother’s immediately senior co-worker at Goldman Sachs once admitted to deliberately trying to sabotage his work. The co-worker was indeed behaving quite game-theoretic-rationally, though; the way Goldman Sachs works, it was likely that exactly one of them would soon lose their job.
I also find it can help with communication. That is, when I decide I want to talk to someone about the annoying behavior (which I don’t always, of course) the opening tack of “I notice you doing X, which is something that I do more often than I’d like and really irritates me when I do it, so I’m kind of sensitized to it” is often both entirely true and a useful way of shortcircuiting the usual adversarial dance that starts that sort of conversation.
I don’t have a handy exercise regimen, but I’ll toss in my two cents.
An exercise I often do in this space involves explicitly looking for symmetry: if I am judging someone for doing X, I look for and articulate ways in which I also do X; if I am feeling aggrieved because Y has happened to me, I look for and articulate ways in which Y has also happened to other people. I doubt it helps build empathy directly, but it helps me curtail some reflexes that seem incompatible with empathy.
Another involves building models of worlds in addition to people: if someone is behaving in a way that seems inconsistent with how the world actually is, I try to work out in some detail how the world would have to be for their behavior to make sense… or, rather, what the minimal changes would have to be. It seems like something that ought not make a difference, and yet it does: the way I approach someone who I model as operating in a fictional world where everyone is a dangerous threat, for example, is different (and much more compassionate) than the way I approach someone who I model as being frightened of everyone.
Taking a step back… I find it’s helpful to remember that every time someone seems to be doing or saying something unconscionably stupid, or thoughtless, or evil, or otherwise behaving in ways that I want to classify as other-than-me, that’s an opportunity to instead practice empathy and compassion. (I don’t mean to suggest here that one ought to practice empathy and compassion in such cases; I don’t think that’s a useful claim to make in this context.)
I think this is an excellent point. From most people’s own point of view, they never do anything stupid, thoughtless, or evil. Everything is justified as the best or only course of action that anyone they consider reasonable could take when put into the same circumstances. If you look at what they’re doing and judge it to be stupid, thoughtless, or evil, and you don’t understand how they could see it otherwise, then your model of them is incomplete. This method has almost always worked for me in terms of figuring out the missing bit of my model, and usually works for reducing frustration. (Sometimes my own emotional response is still “I know I’d do exactly the same thing in your place, but it’s still freaking annoying!”)
That’s okay, I’d be annoyed in your place too.
I agree with this point as well, and I think it bears emphasizing.
Awhile ago, I had a series of conversations with a friend who was having problems with people in her workplace. She would complain along the lines of, “I just can’t believe that X would just shuffle a problem over to my desk. It was X’s responsibility to solve the problem; X must be trying to get me in trouble with the boss.”
Or similar formulations.
It gradually became clear that her go-to modality was to think that if other people aggravated her, it was because they were doing it on purpose.
I pointed out to her that practically nobody in the world enjoys maliciousness, meanness, etc. and that, given the choice of ascribing a person’s actions to maliciousness, when it was just as plausible that the real motivation was thoughtlessness, misunderstanding, or ignorance, one should only opt for maliciousness if there’s a number of REALLY GOOD REASONS to think the person would behave that way.
Ultimately, we all want to get along with those around us. Usually, when we don’t, it’s misunderstanding to blame.
Well, sometimes people really are out to get you. My brother’s immediately senior co-worker at Goldman Sachs once admitted to deliberately trying to sabotage his work. The co-worker was indeed behaving quite game-theoretic-rationally, though; the way Goldman Sachs works, it was likely that exactly one of them would soon lose their job.
Yes.
I also find it can help with communication. That is, when I decide I want to talk to someone about the annoying behavior (which I don’t always, of course) the opening tack of “I notice you doing X, which is something that I do more often than I’d like and really irritates me when I do it, so I’m kind of sensitized to it” is often both entirely true and a useful way of shortcircuiting the usual adversarial dance that starts that sort of conversation.