Why see the human in an offender, an enemy, or a toxic parent?
From our very first moments of life, it is kindness, affection, and care that help us survive and cope with hardship. Yet over time, we often forget how essential they are.
Kindness and compassion are often mistaken for naivety or blind forgiveness — as if they have no place in a harsh world. Sometimes it seems they ask us to close our eyes to cruelty, betrayal, or deception.
Compassion is not weakness — it’s a resource
But in recent years, numerous studies have shown the opposite. Compassion-based programs (including self-compassion) have been proven to reduce stress, anxiety, and post-traumatic symptoms.
This works not only in the therapy room, but in real life: among doctors, rescue workers, survivors of violence or war.
Compassion turns out to be not a “soft philosophy,” but a practical way to support oneself — without escaping into illusions or hardening emotionally.
Compassion as a way to see clearly
In other words, compassion is an evidence-based strategy that improves mental health and resilience in war, trauma, moral injury, stress, and conflict.
When our perception is blurred, we stumble more often — not because reality is inherently cruel, but because we don’t see it clearly.
The more clearly we see, the less likely it is to hurt us.
Distortions, fears, and projections amplify suffering. Compassion brings focus back.
It helps us see: yes, an enemy may be cruel. But behind the rage may be despair. Behind aggression — desperation.
This is not justification or reconciliation. This is clarity.
When we see a perpetrator not as a monster, but as a person — flawed, possibly dangerous — but still human, we stop being blind.
And that gives us freedom to act.
The danger of dehumanization
This becomes especially important in hostile situations: during war, destructive conflicts, or psychological pressure.
In such moments, it’s easy to believe the illusion that “the enemy is not human.”
But once we strip someone of their humanity, they become frightening — unpredictable, like a creature from the dark.
And fear of the unknown intensifies inner tension and trauma.
Dehumanization may seem convenient — it makes aggression easier and creates distance from pain.
But the cost is high: when we lose the ability to see another as human, we lose connection with our own humanity.
Dehumanization dulls our moral boundaries and can lead to actions we later regret.
“Dehumanizing the opponent reduces short-term moral distress but increases the likelihood of later emotional exhaustion and guilt.”
— Winders et al., 2020
Compassion reconnects us with reality
It’s not reality itself that wounds us, but its distortion.
Not the fact that someone hurt us, but the belief that this person is pure evil, and I am a helpless victim.
Compassion brings us back to what is — it doesn’t remove pain but gives it meaning.
It allows us to set boundaries, resist, leave, protect ourselves — not out of destruction, but from clarity.
The body and psyche are usually grateful for this kind of engagement with the world.
Compassion and action are not opposites
Compassion doesn’t prevent action.
We can go to court, defend our country, end toxic relationships — and still see the human in the other.
This is not weakness — it’s maturity.
Seeing the enemy as a human doesn’t mean agreeing with them.
It means not destroying yourself in return.
The courage to stay present
The essence of compassion lies in courage and wisdom.
The courage to face pain, to see things as they are, not turn away, not blame yourself — but stay present.
And the wisdom to offer support.
Compassion does not rule out action — it rules out destruction.
It helps us stay connected to reality, no matter how difficult it is.
This makes it not a comforting idea, but a mature and sustainable strategy.
It’s important to remember: compassion is not something we must feel at every moment.
It’s not an obligation or scheduled emotion, but a general strategy.
Feelings come and go for many reasons — external and internal.
They don’t need to be controlled, suppressed, or shamed.
Our task is not to force compassion, but to cultivate it when we can.
If we want to use it to stay in touch with reality and support ourselves — we simply learn to turn it on where there’s inner space for it.