The Failure of Compassion and Its Remedy

By Kenneth Leong

I have been working on a book about Buddhism that begins with what I believe is the heart of the Buddha’s teaching: Dependent Origination (paṭicca samuppāda). Though frequently cited, this foundational principle is often misunderstood — even by longtime practitioners. It’s commonly treated as either a metaphysical account of rebirth or a psychological process of suffering. But at its core, Dependent Origination is a radical invitation to see the world differently.

Rather than beginning with the twelve-link formula, I start with the Buddha’s most concise and profound expression — often called this–that conditionality:

This being, that becomes.

From the arising of this, that arises.

This simple phrase reveals a world where nothing exists independently. Everything is woven into a dynamic web of conditions. This principle, I believe, offers not just insight into personal suffering, but a deep framework for understanding collective suffering as well. And there is no more urgent and heartbreaking example today than the ongoing conflict in Gaza.

The Compassion Instinct: Rooted in Biology and Evolution

Human beings are biologically wired for compassion. Our species has survived through its capacity to nurture, protect, and care — especially for the vulnerable. Neuroscience confirms this: the vagus nerve, a key part of the parasympathetic nervous system, plays a central role in empathy and social bonding. When we witness suffering, this “compassion nerve” activates: heart rate slows, facial muscles soften, and we are moved to respond.

This instinct is not lofty idealism — it is physiology. As the Confucian sage Mencius observed, if we see a toddler about to fall into a well, we instinctively rush to save the child — not for reward or reputation, but because we are human.

Our nervous system is designed for connection. Compassion is its natural expression.

The Roots of Animosity: Fear, Separation, and the Reactive Brain

Just as compassion arises from connection, animosity arises from separation — the felt sense that “I am here” and “you are over there,” and that your existence is a threat to mine. This response is not just emotional; it’s biological. It is hardwired into the sympathetic nervous system, which prepares the body for fight, flight, or freeze.

At the center of this system lies the amygdala, a small almond-shaped cluster in the brain. When activated, it:

• Amplifies fear and hyper-vigilance,

• Narrows perception to immediate threats,

• Triggers aggression or retreat,

• And overrides empathy, reflection, and reason.

This mechanism was once essential to survival. But today, especially in the spiritual and social realm, it often misfires — projecting enemies where there are none, mistaking disagreement for danger, and reinforcing the illusion of an isolated, embattled self.

This is precisely the terrain the Buddha sought to illuminate.

Hatred does not cease by hatred. Hatred ceases by love. This is an eternal law.

— Dhammapada, verse 5

Rather than labeling animosity as evil, the Buddha saw it as misdirected energy — a byproduct of fear and delusion. Through mindfulness and insight, we learn to observe anger without being ruled by it. And when we recognize the suffering behind another’s aggression, something extraordinary happens: the vagus nerve re-engages, the body softens, and compassion begins to flow.

As Thich Nhat Hanh wrote:

When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself… He does not need punishment; he needs help.

This does not excuse wrongdoing — but it reframes our response. The one who harms is not an enemy, but another being caught in conditions — just like us.

Dehumanization and the Social Suppression of Compassion

If compassion is our biological baseline, how does it get overridden? In times of war, our natural empathy is systematically suppressed by cultural, political, and ideological forces. In Gaza, we have seen infants buried beneath rubble, mothers weeping over lost children, and elders crushed in collapsing homes — scenes that should break any human heart. And yet, some look away. Others justify the violence.

Why?

Because tribalism, propaganda, and fear dehumanize the other. Every atrocity begins with a narrative: that “they” are not like us, that “they” are dangerous, subhuman, disposable. Over time, the unthinkable becomes permissible — and then normal. Our compassion is anesthetized.

This loss of empathy is not just a political failure — it is a spiritual catastrophe.

The Illusion of Brute Force

Behind this failure of compassion lies a deeper delusion: the belief that brute force works. We imagine that by destroying the enemy, we eliminate the threat. But this logic is based on a linear and mechanical worldview — as if the world were a billiard table, where force produces direct, isolated outcomes.

In reality, every act of violence sets off ripple effects — new trauma, fresh grievances, deeper resentment. Violence rarely ends a conflict; it often sows the seeds of the next one. In Gaza, as elsewhere, military actions may achieve tactical goals, but they create strategic instability. Each strike deepens the wound. Each death births a future vengeance.

Dependent Origination as Systems Theory

This is where the Buddha’s teaching of Dependent Origination reveals its profound relevance. Long before the language of science, the Buddha saw that the world is not static or linear, but dynamic and interdependent.

Modern systems theory echoes this vision. It understands the world as a network of agents — interacting, adapting, and evolving. Systems are not predictable machines, but living webs filled with feedback loops, emergent behaviors, and sensitive dependencies.

Just as in Dependent Origination, there is no single cause, no isolated effect — only interconnected conditions continuously arising.

Rethinking Karma: From Linearity to Interconnection

Traditional karma is often taught as a moral ledger: do good, receive good; do harm, receive harm. While this view encourages ethical behavior, it risks oversimplifying the complexity of causality.

Karma, when seen through Dependent Origination, becomes less about cosmic bookkeeping and more about systemic influence. Every action — especially violent action — triggers new conditions, new consequences, and unexpected outcomes.

Brute force may appear effective in the moment, but within an interdependent system, it escalates suffering, entangles the future, and perpetuates harm. What we need is not retribution, but understanding. Not control, but wise intervention in the web of causes and conditions.

A Cycle That Must Be Broken

When we fail to see the world as a system, we become trapped in cycles of violence. The tragedy of Gaza is one such cycle. Each act of aggression gives rise to fresh hatred. Each funeral radicalizes the next youth. Each bombing plants the seeds of the next retaliation.

These are not abstractions — they are visible feedback loops in the real world.

To break the cycle, we must stop thinking in terms of enemies and victories. We must ask:

What are the conditions that give rise to violence?

What loops sustain it?

And how can we intervene compassionately and skillfully?

A Shared Wisdom: The Spiritual Rejection of Violence

This insight is not uniquely Buddhist. Across traditions, the wisdom is clear:

Those who live by the sword will die by the sword.”— Jesus

Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. — Martin Luther King, Jr.

These are not sentimental ideals. They are strategic truths, grounded in a profound understanding of how human beings — and human systems — actually function.

Violence perpetuates itself. Compassion interrupts the loop.

Conclusion: A Call to See Anew

To truly practice Buddhism today is not merely to meditate or chant — it is to see the world as it is. Dependent Origination is not a theory of suffering alone; it is a model of reality, offering a vision of deep interconnection and radical responsibility.

If we are to reclaim our shared humanity, we must abandon the illusion that we can solve complex problems with force. We must see the world not as fragmented threats, but as a living web of relationships, in which every action ripples through the whole.

Let this insight — not animosity or brute power — be the foundation of our moral imagination.

Let compassion arise — not as sentiment, but as understanding made visible.

Let us break the cycle — together.