The Bystander Effect: Understanding the Psychology of Courage and Inaction: Difference between revisions

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{{review|The Bystander Effect: Understanding the Psychology of Courage and Inaction|Starts off brightly; shame about the tiresome agenda}}
{{a|book review|}}{{br|The Bystander Effect: Understanding the Psychology of Courage and Inaction}}<br>{{author|Catherine Sanderson}}<br>
this book is about an interesting - though controversial - psychological phenomenon. It starts out brightly but quickly gets bogged down by its author's own liberal agenda, and goes from "why is it that people who could, and are disposed to, intervene, when given the opportunity to, don't" to " why are people, and especially young white men, so horrid?" the latter of which, while undeniably true, is neither interesting nor capable of solution by a well meaning social scientist.
This book is about an interesting though controversial psychological phenomenon: why do good, well-adjusted people who ''could'' intervene to help a person in distress, not always help?


it is not clear there is much of a bystander effect, at least as envisaged by the Kitty Genovese murder, which appears to have been seriously misreported, so Professor Sanderson looks at situations of peer pressure and bullying. But these are different, and far easier to explain. Some of her proposed solutions to bullying - such as publicly rewarding children who stand up to, or God forbid tell tales on, bullies - no doubt seem brilliant to a tenured academic, but ought to strike terror into the heart of any parent inhabiting the real world.
It starts out brightly but quickly gets bogged down by its author’s agenda, and goes from the interesting question “why is it that people who could, and are disposed to, intervene, when given the opportunity to, don’t?” to the uninteresting one “why are people, and especially young white men, so horrid?” Undeniably true, is neither interesting nor capable of solution by a well-meaning social scientist. It isn’t ''just'' white males: that’s just your [[confirmation bias]] talking — yes, true — and mine.  


Far more interesting, and briefly touched on but not fully investigated, is the question of what factors contribute to the sort of person who does intervene.
“Assume people will be dicks, and avoid disappointment.” Granted, that’s hardly a decent hook for a bestselling book, but it might make less of an outrage.
The evidence as far as she presents it suggests these people tend not to be the righteous do-gooders the author would like to make us all into, but spikier, more individualistic types who are disinclined to toe the line: awkward people the metropolitan elite tend to not to like.


Had Professor Sanderson focussed more on these people, her book might have be worth persevering with.
On the other hand, it turns out there’s not much evidence that there ''is'' much of a bystander effect, in the sense of the notorious Kitty Genovese case. That horrible murder appears to have been seriously misreported.  So Professor Sanderson hasn’t got much of a hook for her book anyway. Instead, she looks at situations of peer pressure and bullying.
 
But social pressures are different, and far easier to explain. Bullying goes back to the beginning of time, isn’t about to stop, and however we might like to tell ourselves otherwise, the musings of a well-intentioned social scientist aren’t about to change that. Some of her proposed solutions, such as publicly rewarding children who stand up to bullying or, God forbid, ''report'' it, might seem brilliant to a tenured academic, but demonstrate a profound misunderstanding of how children work — was she not one, once? — and ought to strike terror into the heart of any parent whose offspring inhabiting the real world where children, when gathered together, can be monstrous in a way that no patrolling adult can hope to ''see'', let alone police.
 
Far more interesting, and briefly touched on but not fully investigated, is what factors contribute to the sort of person who ''does'' intervene.
 
The evidence, as far as she presents it, suggests these people tend not to be the righteous do-gooders the author would like to make us all into, but spikier, more individualistic types who are disinclined to toe the line: ''awkward'' people the metropolitan elite tend to not to like.
 
Had Professor Sanderson focussed on these cases, her book might have be worth persevering with. It didn’t, and nor did I.

Latest revision as of 20:29, 10 February 2021

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The Bystander Effect: Understanding the Psychology of Courage and Inaction
Catherine Sanderson
This book is about an interesting — though controversial — psychological phenomenon: why do good, well-adjusted people who could intervene to help a person in distress, not always help?

It starts out brightly but quickly gets bogged down by its author’s agenda, and goes from the interesting question “why is it that people who could, and are disposed to, intervene, when given the opportunity to, don’t?” to the uninteresting one “why are people, and especially young white men, so horrid?” Undeniably true, is neither interesting nor capable of solution by a well-meaning social scientist. It isn’t just white males: that’s just your confirmation bias talking — yes, true — and mine.

“Assume people will be dicks, and avoid disappointment.” Granted, that’s hardly a decent hook for a bestselling book, but it might make less of an outrage.

On the other hand, it turns out there’s not much evidence that there is much of a bystander effect, in the sense of the notorious Kitty Genovese case. That horrible murder appears to have been seriously misreported. So Professor Sanderson hasn’t got much of a hook for her book anyway. Instead, she looks at situations of peer pressure and bullying.

But social pressures are different, and far easier to explain. Bullying goes back to the beginning of time, isn’t about to stop, and however we might like to tell ourselves otherwise, the musings of a well-intentioned social scientist aren’t about to change that. Some of her proposed solutions, such as publicly rewarding children who stand up to bullying or, God forbid, report it, might seem brilliant to a tenured academic, but demonstrate a profound misunderstanding of how children work — was she not one, once? — and ought to strike terror into the heart of any parent whose offspring inhabiting the real world where children, when gathered together, can be monstrous in a way that no patrolling adult can hope to see, let alone police.

Far more interesting, and briefly touched on but not fully investigated, is what factors contribute to the sort of person who does intervene.

The evidence, as far as she presents it, suggests these people tend not to be the righteous do-gooders the author would like to make us all into, but spikier, more individualistic types who are disinclined to toe the line: awkward people the metropolitan elite tend to not to like.

Had Professor Sanderson focussed on these cases, her book might have be worth persevering with. It didn’t, and nor did I.