Why Blind Compassion Is Dangerous
I was waiting on the sidewalk outside a New York City deli storefront in 31°F winter weather when a young man passed by, rolling a new, dark brown leather armchair on a cart. He paused and looked at the front door to a residential building next to the deli.
"Are you going to be out here a minute?" he asked me. His tone was annoyed and demanding.
No, I said. I explained that I was leaving soon because my partner was coming out of the store any minute—he was just there to pick up one item.
"Not even a minute?" he asked again, sounding insistent and even more demanding, as if he could not believe anyone would say no. He didn't explain further. Dozens more people were around us, but he didn’t ask them.
"No, I am leaving soon," I said, feeling like I had to come up with another reason. I wondered if this was a scam. He asked a third time, and I started to explain again.
"Well, that's a Good Samaritan attitude," he said sarcastically and angrily.
I looked at him and wondered if he had always been this entitled. Is this how he had learned how to ask for help? Would he have spoken to a man this way? At this moment, I should have left, but instead I stood there speechless. His words were clear.
In a split-second judgment call, I thought about what it meant to be a good person. All the spiritual and yoga teachings of being kind, caring, and compassionate bubbled up to the surface. Wasn't the right decision always to help someone in need if you could? In that moment, I relented and agreed to watch his armchair outside. Just as I agreed, my partner came outside to join me. He said he was totally fine to wait—until he heard the full story of what the stranger had said to me just seconds before.
"Why would I agree to help someone who acted like that?"
I wondered the same thing. Why hadn't I walked away? Does being a good person mean I had to be the kind of person who would be "good" enough to wait outside in the freezing cold for a stranger who was disrespectful? Is this the hidden cost of always being a good and moral person? And, if so, did I have to accept this cost in order to act authentically, in line with my moral values?
Many traditions teach us to be kind and compassionate. But is there such a thing as acting with "too much" compassion, at any cost?
A little-known problem is that trying to be a good person all the time, without regard to the context and your own boundaries, comes with a dangerous blind spot: "blind compassion" (sometimes referred to as "idiot compassion"). Pema Chödrön has written about "idiot compassion" as the near enemy of compassion, "This is when we avoid conflict and protect our good image by being kind when we should definitely say 'no.'"
"Blind" compassion is not the same thing as "wise" compassion.
1. If you act with blind compassion toward people who don't respect or honor your boundaries, it can do more harm than good—to everyone involved.
Psychotherapist Robert Augustus Masters writes beautifully about blind compassion in his book Spiritual Bypassing:
Blind compassion is rooted in the belief that we are all doing the best we can. When we are driven by blind compassion, we cut everyone far too much slack, making excuses for others’ behavior and making nice situations that require a forceful “no,” an unmistakable voicing of displeasure, or a firm setting and maintaining of boundaries. These things can and often should be done out of love, but blind compassion keeps love too meek, sentenced to wearing a kind face.
Blind compassion is kindness rooted in fear, and not just fear of confrontation, but also fear of not coming across as a good or spiritual person. When we are engaged in blind compassion we rarely show anger, for we not only believe that compassion has to be gentle, we are also frightened of upsetting anyone, especially to the point of their confronting us. This is reinforced by our judgment about anger, especially in its more fiery forms, as something less spiritual; something that shouldn’t be there if we were being truly loving. Blind compassion reduces us to harmony junkies, entrapping us in unrelentingly positive expression.
With blind compassion we don’t know how to—or won’t learn how to—say “no” with any real power, avoiding confrontation at all costs and, as a result, enabling unhealthy patterns to continue. Our “yes” is then anemic and impotent, devoid of the impact it could have if we were also able to access a clear, strong “no” that emanated from our core.
2. The reality is that the essence of being a good person does not mean that you have to respond to every person or situation with universal, blanket kindness, including people who do not respect your boundaries and do not show the same respect and care about your own needs.
In this case, it was a minor non-emergency situation. He was not in dire need of help nor did he take the time to explain why he needed help—he simply expected that I would help and then immediately directed his anger at me when he did not get what he wanted. This act of "blind compassion" reinforces his unhealthy way of asking for help, even if it was in a moment of frustration, which would likely not serve him or the other people he would interact with in the future.
3. The danger of blind compassion is that it can enable or reinforce unhealthy behaviors and patterns or leave the compassionate person feeling taken advantage of, drained, resentful or angry.
Being angry does not mean that you are a "bad" or "aggressive" person. Sometimes this is a sign that someone is not respecting your boundaries and is crossing them. It is important in these cases to feel empowered to protect yourself and stand up for what your own needs are. Being good does not require you to always be self-sacrificing and put other's needs above your own. Putting other people's needs above your own in situations where the other person does not respect or honor your boundaries can be harmful to everyone. Giving up your own needs and your essential voice are costs that can often come with feeling taken advantage of or resentful later.
4. Acting with "wise compassion" can feel counterintuitive, especially in situations where "blind compassion" can feel "easier" or "the right answer."
In many cases, walking away from the situation can be a lot more effective than giving in or continuing to engage in the situation, even if it feels like you will not have proven that you are a "good" person. The other person may even accuse you of being a "bad" or "unhelpful" or "unkind" person for not giving them what they want. It is likely this stranger would not have heard any feedback on how he was behaving either.
5. You might have to repeat and set your boundaries many times. If you find that you have to do this, it is a red flag.
I often hear that the reason it's hard to keep boundaries is that another person has disregarded them in the past, which becomes tiring. This case illustrates that when someone repeatedly does not listen to your boundaries the first few times, it is a red flag. If possible, walk away from the situation. The danger of blind compassion in cases of friends or family members is that if the other person repeatedly disregards your boundaries, over the long term, this issue will persist or get worse.
6. You don't have to come up with different or new excuses each time you set your boundaries. The "broken record technique" is to repeat and hold firm to your boundaries multiple times if necessary, repeating the same thing.
It is interesting that even though the stranger did not feel any need to vary his demand or come up with any or new reasons or explanations for it (he kept repeating his request and disregarding my boundary), I felt the need to have to come up with different reasons for saying no each time he asked. The best technique for situations where you feel a pressure to have to come up with multiple excuses is to use the broken record technique, which is to simply repeat yourself and your boundaries. You do not have to come up with new ways to say the same thing.
7. Finally, if you find yourself acting with blind compassion, is important to not be hard on yourself. Offer yourself the ability to observe what happened and be curious about it as a learning experience. Reflect on what "wise compassion" would have looked like.
It is essential not to be hard on yourself when you realize in hindsight that you may have acted with blind compassion. Learning to distinguish "blind" compassion from "wise" compassion takes time and practice, with awareness, patience, and insight. The goal is not to act perfectly, but to act with integrity and authenticity, to set boundaries firmly, and to learn from each experience along the way.