Empathy and Maturity: A Mother’s Gift, A Society’s Ethos

From Chico to Padre Maduro

Introduction

Today, I watched and listened to a long-form podcast featuring two of my favorite social commentators, Jordan Peterson and Megyn Kelly. While the conversation was deep and far-ranging, what struck me deepest was the discussion of motherhood, the archetype of motherhood symbolized by the Virgin Mary, and the pathological Devouring Mother described by Freud, in the ancient and wise commentary on human nature told by the fairy tale of Snow White, and in the third Chapter in the first book in the Bible, the story of Adam and Eve.

I am attempting to draw a parallel between observations about the attributes of our current social times, how our societal ethos has changed in the course of my lifetime, and why that is not a good thing. I continually struggle with formulating the right message about all of that, and what we need to do to change course.

As always, I ask you to take a local perspective and consider how this reflects upon your own experiences living in these times and in this small city in Northern California, whose name itself invokes smallness; Chico translates as “a child or small boy.” I hope you can appreciate the significance of that name in the words that follow.

Empathy and Maturity: A Mother’s Gift, A Society’s Ethos

From Chico to Padre Maduro

There is no purer form of human connection than a mother responding to her crying infant. In those early years of life, empathy is not only appropriate, it is sacred. A baby’s cry is never wrong; it signals need in its most elemental form. The maternal instinct to nurture, to hold, to feed, to soothe, these are the most fundamental instincts of a mother, not choices but gifts of nature and grace, without which, no human would long survive.

As Jordan Peterson once put it, “A baby’s cry is always right, but not every creature that cries is a baby.”

This instinct for empathy, however, is not meant to last in its original form. A loving mother does not work to keep a child in a state of infancy and need. The sacred work of empathy for a crying infant gives way, in time, to the painful and heroic labor of letting your child go out into the world as an independent and sovereign being.

In the Christian tradition, Mary, the mother of Jesus, is the archetype of motherhood. Her calling began with the fulfillment of devoted empathy and compassion: the duty of serving and nurturing new life. But it ended with something far more difficult: standing by as her son is sacrificed in his service to humanity. This is not her failure, but the fulfillment of her nature.

This understanding of motherhood stands in contrast to the character of the Devouring Mother, who keeps her child dependent and infantile to preserve her own needs. The devouring mother places her needs above those of the maturing child; her inward orientation devours the outward-facing needs of her child.

A mature mother understands that her unconditional empathy must ripen into something else: acceptance, encouragement, sacrifice, and trust in her child’s independence and maturity.

What is true for the family is also true for society. Our smallest and most immediate family institution, mother and father, is devoted to protecting and nurturing the needs of the infant. As those relationships mature, they increasingly turn outward, expanding to neighborhoods, schools, courts, governments, and economies, where empathy alone becomes inadequate, and even dangerous.

The ethos of empathy in these contexts does not scale. Society must adopt a new ethos, one defined not by inward needs, but outward to what we can create and sustain through duty and cooperation. Empathy, while essential in its own time, must yield to something else. Infancy must eventually yield to maturity. Empathy must yield to personal agency and a duty to cooperate with others within one’s community.

The natural process from infancy to maturity introduces the attributes of resilience, courage, hope, action, cooperation, and the attachment of meaning to that which lies beyond and above self-gratification. It is the process of maturing that turns our focus from inward to outward.

Maturity does not reject compassion, it disciplines it. It turns empathy into duty, emotion into wisdom, and love into sacrifice. Maturity doesn’t ask “What do I need right now?” but “What can I build in the future if I sacrifice my comfort today?” “What does my community need that I can provide?” Maturity is outward-facing, purposeful, and courageous. It assumes responsibility for things it did not cause. It embraces the idea that fulfillment is found not in seeking comfort, but in the meaning of one’s contributions to others. It seeks fulfillment instead of happiness.

This ethos still lives in the hearts of most American adults. You see it in the father who works two jobs without complaint. You see it in the neighbor who checks on an elderly friend during a storm. You see it in public servants, teachers, police, soldiers, volunteers, coaches, and pastors. But while these values endure in our hearts, the culture around us has shifted.

Our social institutions, once designed to channel maturity, have increasingly taken on the role of the Devouring Mother. They extend endless permission but demand no growth. They soothe, but they do not lead. They console, but they do not command. They continually implore us to satisfy our slightest desires before the opportunity for pleasure passes us by. Consumerism itself is designed around fulfilling inward needs above all others.

And so, even those who know better, who want to serve, to build, to lead, to focus their attention outwardly, are left paralyzed. Not because they lack courage, but because they feel alone. And isolation, more than anything else, is the seedbed of hopelessness.

Here is the paradox: the cure for hopelessness is not found inside oneself. It begins the moment we look outwardly, even before we feel ready to engage. When you understand you are not alone, you realize you must act as if you are not alone. Encourage someone. Lend your hands. Offer your time. Step forward with the assumption that others, like you, are waiting for a signal that they are also not alone.

The message, then, is not to leap into action for its own sake. The message is one of encouragement, to ourselves, one another, and our children. The message is to remember that hope is not something we receive; it is something we give. And in giving, we create the conditions for renewal, discovery, and hope.

Empathy begins the human journey. Maturity sustains it. Encouragement lights the path between them. It is time we once again encourage boys to embrace their place as men and fathers. It is time we encourage girls to rediscover the deeper values of masculinity and encourage the boys they know. Girls also need encouragement to grow into mature women. Without the encouragement of mature women, healthy boys, men, and fathers will be scarce. There was a time when women understood that not all creatures that cry are babies, and when men understood that tears do not get them what they and others need. In a society with an abundance of mature men and women, everything will be better.

For the long-form treatment of this subject, see: Jordan Peterson and Megyn Kelly on YouTube