capital S suffering
Everyone suffers.
And yet, the story is incomplete.
There are different degrees of suffering. The experience of this universal human condition varies widely. Its range of severity is as diverse as it is ubiquitous across region, time, and individual neurology.
The poor man suffers, and so does the rich man. Whose suffering is greater?
All things being equal, the rich man has more resources to manage his suffering: access to therapists, perhaps a network of other high-net-worth individuals who have the freedom of time for self-discovery.
But the question sets us up for failure. Measuring each other’s suffering is a futile exercise, bearing no fruit but resentment. Even if an imbalance of suffering existed, there would be no reasonable equalizing force to measure—let alone rebalance—suffering across different people.
Even the thought exercise hits a short ceiling. There is no such thing as “all things equal” outside the vacuum of theory or Kantian ethics. The multivariate nature of each individual human existence is too complex to derive an adequate comparison. At best, we arrive at reductionist reasoning—a pseudo-mathematical equation of infinitely asterisked components. The problem eludes logic because logic cannot contain the fullness of its complexity.
So, we land back at our original statement: everyone suffers.
Yet, why does the story still feel incomplete?
The extremes can illuminate the rest of the data. It is easy to find examples today and throughout history of intense human suffering: victims of war, genocide, or other atrocities. Their suffering is likely far greater than any we’ve personally encountered.
It’s worth acknowledging that not all suffering is equal. There is suffering with a capital “S.”
Here’s where I start to hit a wall: even if we conclude that others suffer more or have it harder in life, what do we do with that?
This is my best shot at an answer: those of us who can have a moral responsibility to help others in need. The highest moral aim is to reduce suffering in this world. I hesitate to prescribe how because I don’t think it’s about writing a playbook. It’s about adopting a disposition.
Interestingly enough, the capacity to help others is likely independent of our degree of suffering. Or perhaps—less intuitively—more suffering may give us a greater capacity for compassion and a stronger desire to help others. It can give us empathy.
The duty to reduce suffering is not a rebalancing act. It is a universal responsibility, independent of suffering.