As I age into my early 20s, I realize now that overused cliches are not as useless as their unoriginality might suggest. Take this one: “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”
To elaborate, let us consider a chilling incident that occurred in New York City in 2010. One night in April, an assailant stalked and attacked an innocent woman. Luckily for her, someone was there to help.
A homeless man jumped to the aid of the woman. The hero himself was then stabbed by the assailant and fell to the sidewalk. Nearly 25 people indifferently walked past the injured man in the next hour. One bystander even pulled out his phone to take a picture of the facedown body before leaving. No one seemed to care about the growing pool of blood.
By the time firefighters arrived on scene an hour and 20 minutes later, the homeless man had died.
Such cruel apathy is well-documented. The most famous example of the “bystander effect” is that of Kitty Genovese, who was attacked near her New York apartment by a serial murderer. Her screams and calls for help were heard by neighbors, but no one intervened. The Genovese murder took place nearly 50 years ago.
You can partly blame the “diffusion of responsibility” that we delude ourselves into thinking, the notion that since there are so many people out there, someone else will take action. But that’s not the full story.
Today, the default state of mind is indifference. Sure, the apathy we identify ourselves with doesn’t translate to ignoring bleeding victims on sidewalks, but it is still dangerous.
Each of us has selfish instincts. Naturally, the urge to pay attention to the individual self is the top priority for everyone. The problem begins when the top priority becomes the only priority.
The amount of peace and justice is inversely proportional to the level of apathy people have. The luxuries of freedom and law in the United States we enjoy today are precisely because of the relentless struggle of people whose names history books never mention.
Spending a few semesters fighting Student Government corruption won’t beef up your resume. Protesting the poverty endured by those working for minimum wage won’t win you any awards. Devoting your life to the eradication of nuclear weapons can seem like a grand waste of time.
But, ultimately, is that not life?
After the booze runs dry and we look back at our college years, little contentment will come from remembering the epic Midtown parties.
As corny as this sounds, our years will be defined by how much our humanity blossomed — to what extent did we, as individuals, care for others.
Recently, another dumb cliche started making sense to me. In the book “Tuck Everlasting,” Natalie Babbitt says, “Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever. You just have to live.”
What did she mean by the unlived life?
“Apathy” is derived from the Greek term for “without feeling.” In our lack of concern for the suffering of others, we become zombies.
The world is becoming a colder place, and I’m not referring to global warming.
When “good people” like ourselves stay silent, evil triumphs.
The victims of our apathy patiently wait for us. The question remains: How long do we keep them waiting?
Zulkar Khan is a UF microbiology senior. His column runs on Wednesdays. A version of this column ran on page 6 on 11/13/2013 under the headline "Instead of death, fear the unlived life"
