Empathy is defined as the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. But does that understanding count if you don’t believe the reason for someone’s pain is the thing they say it is? Can you feel true empathy if you secretly doubt the person you are empathizing with? Chapter two of Leslie Jamison’s The Empathy Exams, “Devil’s Bait” discusses Jamison’s experience at a conference for people with Morgellons disease. The disease itself has been contested by doctors, many of whom claim it is not a physical disease but rather an affliction of the mind. As Jamison meets victims of Morgellons, she is careful to listen to their stories without confirming her belief in them.
Morgellons is characterized by fibers that emerge from underneath the skin, along with sores, itching, the feeling that something is moving under your skin, and other symptoms. 14,000 US families are affected, and 70% of Morgellons patients are women. Many are diagnosed with delusions of parasitosis and receive antipsychotics instead of physical treatment.
Jamison goes into detail about the symptoms and the lives of the people she meets, painting an almost horrifying reality that is true for thousands. However, she reveals to the reader that she is unconvinced about their testimonies. The first time Jamison hints at her disbelief, I was surprised.
“Rita tells me she lost her job and husband because of this disease. She tells me she hasn’t had health insurance in years. She tells me she can literally see her skin moving. Do I believe her? I nod. I tell myself I can agree with a declaration of pain without being certain I agree with the declaration of its cause.”
I expected her to come around, to support what the self-proclaimed “Morgies” were saying. She never did, instead exploring how she could empathize with their pain and not the cause. I was upset by this secret, but it was hard to articulate why. Jamison was still there, listening and offering at least some understanding, which is more than many Morgies’ doctors had done. I believe that her private disbelief felt like it undermined the rest of the understanding; it turned it into something disingenuous. Perhaps I’m just the type to believe anything someone tells me, so I couldn’t imagine being faced with all of these people and all of their stories and still doubting them.
I started to wonder, would it be worse if Jamison claimed to believe them, even when she did not? She never stated her disbelief, only danced around offering confirmation. Therefore, it would not have been any kinder to offer a kind of support that she wasn’t truthfully able to give. Jamison acknowledges the different type of empathy she was offering towards the end of the chapter.
“I feel an obligation to pay homage or at least accord some reverence to these patients’ collective understanding of what makes them hurt. Maybe it’s a kind of sympathetic infection in its own right: this need to go-along-with, to nod-along-with, to support; to agree.”
And yet, she resists the urge to nod along and agree wholeheartedly. However, she shows a kind of regret at her reluctance. She ends the chapter reflecting on it.
“I went to Austin because I wanted to be a different kind of listener than the kind these patients had known: doctors winking at their residents, friends biting their lips, skeptics smiling in smug bewilderment. But wanting to be different doesn’t make you so. Paul told me his crazy-ass symptoms and I didn’t believe him. Or at least, I didn’t believe him the way he wanted to be believed. I didn’t believe there were parasites laying thousands of eggs under his skin, but I did believe he hurt like there were. Which was typical. I was typical. In writing this essay, how am I doing something he wouldn’t understand as betrayal? I want to say, I heard you. To say, I pass no verdicts. But I can’t say these things to him. So instead I say this: I think he can heal. I hope he does.”
I liked that Jamison expanded the way she did. Ironically, I felt as if I understood her better. Imperfect narrators are often the most truthful with their readers, and it’s easier to still like them if you can understand them.