For nearly two decades, the American media adhered to a strict policy prohibiting the publication of photographs showing the coffins of fallen soldiers. Initially implemented by the U.S. government in 1991 during the Gulf War, the ban was lifted in 2009 by Defense Secretary Robert Gates. While family members are technically required to approve any publication of these images, enforcing such a rule is nearly impossible.
In February of that year, when the ban was lifted, photographs of soldiers’ coffins flooded the internet, sparking a public outcry. These images evoked an immediate and powerful emotional response—much more than the statistical reports on casualties ever could.
This shift in policy raises an important question: why was this ban implemented in the first place? The answer lies in a deliberate effort to conceal the human cost of war. Though the number of casualties can be readily accessed, statistics are cold and impersonal. But when we see a face, a human being, in those statistics—especially when that person is no longer alive—the story becomes profoundly personal, and the impact is immediate.
The Psychology Behind the Emotional Reaction
The human capacity for empathy is an evolved trait that has played a critical role in our survival as social creatures. Humans lived in tight-knit communities for thousands of years, relying on cooperation, mutual aid, and social bonds for survival. The ability to understand and share the feelings of others was essential, as it fostered strong, supportive relationships, ensuring that groups could thrive in the face of challenges. This evolutionary advantage gave rise to the “theory of mind”—a psychological concept explaining how humans can attribute thoughts, feelings, and intentions to others and understand that these mental states can differ.
As a key element of the theory of mind, empathy allows us to experience another person’s emotions as though they were our own. The most profound manifestation of this empathy occurs when we encounter the suffering of others. Humans, through evolution, developed an innate response to pain and suffering that prompts us to take action to alleviate it. When we see or hear about another person suffering, especially in the case of injury or loss, our brains automatically react to help or, at the very least, to feel a shared sense of grief. This emotional connection often leads us to support or help in need.
However, this same cognitive wiring can make abstract concepts, such as statistics or large groups, harder to relate emotionally. Our brains are not as equipped to process the immense scale of suffering that numbers represent. When we see numbers or hear about abstract figures, like “1,000 casualties” or “three million children affected by malnutrition,” we may understand the magnitude of the situation intellectually, but we are less likely to feel the emotional intensity of those figures. The numbers represent a collective, and our empathy, in this case, struggles to connect with the many rather than the one. In contrast, we are immediately moved when shown a single face, a person with a name, or a story. This is why the media and storytellers often focus on personal narratives to convey a crisis’s emotional and social weight.
The Ultimatum Game: An Empathetic Experiment
The Ultimatum Game, developed by economists in the 1980s, is a striking experiment that illustrates the human instinct to empathize with others, even in purely transactional situations. The game involves two players: the proposer, who is given a sum of money, and the responder, who must decide whether to accept or reject the proposer’s offer. If the responder accepts, they both get the money as agreed. However, if the responder rejects the offer, neither party receives anything. From a rational perspective, the proposer could offer the smallest amount possible, say $1, and the responder should accept it because $1 is better than nothing. This would be a logical decision, considering the “game” is designed around the premise that both participants will act purely in their self-interest.
However, when actual people play the game, they behave quite differently. On average, proposers offer the responder between 30% and 50% of the total sum. This is rooted in fairness and the social dynamics that influence human behavior. We are wired not just to act in our self-interest but also to consider the interests of others. Fairness matters to us. If the proposer offers less than a certain threshold—usually 30%—the responder will often reject the offer, even though it means both players walk away empty-handed. While seemingly irrational, this rejection stems from the responder’s instinct to enforce fairness, not just maximize their gain. The decision to reject an unfair offer is driven by empathy and a sense of justice, even at the cost of personal benefit.
This experiment highlights that human behavior cannot always be understood through a purely economic lens. People are not just calculating self-interest; they also consider social norms, relationships, and the emotional impact of their decisions on others. This willingness to offer more than the minimum required, driven by an empathetic understanding of the other person’s feelings, clearly manifests the “theory of mind” in action. It shows that even in a transactional setting, humans are keenly aware of how their actions will affect others and are motivated to maintain fairness and equity in their dealings.
Dehumanizing the Other: A Subtle Shift in Perception
The psychological shift that occurs when people are physically or emotionally separated from the person they are interacting with has profound implications for how we relate to others. In the Ultimatum Game, placing the two players in separate rooms is enough to significantly reduce the empathetic connection between them. Without the ability to see each other’s faces, read body language, or hear the emotional tone of each other’s voices, the player’s perception of the other person changes. They are no longer “real” people with thoughts, feelings, and stories. Instead, they become an abstraction—a figure on the other side of a transaction, a “player” in a game, not a fellow human being.
This dehumanization happens whenever we are removed from direct interaction with others. In many ways, it is a coping mechanism. The mind cannot handle the constant emotional weight of empathizing with every person we encounter. It’s much easier to feel empathy and act on it when we are presented with a person in need. However, the emotional connection weakens when that person becomes a distant figure—such as a faceless statistic, an anonymous voice on the phone, or an unseen “other” in an online transaction. This phenomenon significantly affects how we perceive large-scale social issues, such as poverty, war, or environmental crises.
When people are presented as part of a mass—”thousands dead,” “millions affected”—the emotional response is dulled. We may intellectually understand the enormity of the situation, but we struggle to feel each individual’s pain within that larger framework. This is why large-scale suffering often fails to generate the same emotional urgency as smaller, more personal tragedies. It is easier to ignore the suffering of a nameless group than to witness the anguish of a single individual, someone we can see, relate to, and empathize with. The psychological separation that occurs when people are abstracted from the larger whole makes it easier to disregard their humanity.
The Statistical Disconnect: The Impact of Numbers
The disconnect between the emotional impact of personal stories and the cold detachment of statistics is an essential feature of human psychology. In Paul Slovic’s experiment, the difference between showing a single image of a suffering child and presenting dry, impersonal statistics about the famine in Malawi dramatically shifted the participants’ willingness to donate. When people were shown the face of Rokia, the malnourished child, they were moved to donate significantly more money. In contrast, when they were shown the statistics about the scale of the crisis—three million children affected—they gave far less.
This result seems counterintuitive. On a national level, knowing that millions are affected should increase one’s sense of urgency and motivation to help. However, the human brain is not well-equipped to process large numbers in a way that evokes a personal, emotional response. A number like three million is abstract; it is hard for the brain to grasp what that figure truly means. We can imagine a single child in distress and feel an immediate emotional response. Still, three million children is too vast to relate to individually.
This disconnect is fundamental to how humans process information and make decisions. While statistics provide an objective overview of a situation, they do not elicit the same emotional reaction as personal stories. This is why personification—focusing on the story of an individual rather than the aggregate data—is such a powerful tool in both media and charity campaigns. It brings the issue down to a human scale, something we can feel and relate to. The emotional pull of a face is often far stronger than the cognitive understanding of an abstract number.
The Role of the Media: Giving a Face to the Story
The media has long understood the power of personification in shaping public opinion and motivating action. In journalism, the facts are important, but they are rarely enough to engage an audience on an emotional level. Media outlets use faces—images of real people whose stories illustrate broader issues to capture the audience’s attention. The media has learned that a well-chosen photograph of an individual can bring a story to life in a way that numbers and statistics cannot. Whether it’s a grieving mother after a natural disaster, a CEO involved in a corporate scandal, or a refugee fleeing war, the face is the entry point to the story.
This technique is so powerful that it extends beyond news reporting into advertising, politics, and entertainment. Politicians, for instance, are often portrayed not as representatives of a political party but as individual people with relatable human qualities. In the business world, CEOs become the face of their companies, and their image shapes how the public perceives the company. When a crisis occurs, the media often focuses on the faces of victims, giving those individuals a voice and turning them into the symbol of the larger issue. This is why the media’s focus on personal stories during disasters or tragedies can drive much larger waves of empathy and action than cold, statistical reporting ever could.
Personification is also central to the success of narrative storytelling, particularly in literature. Fiction has the unique power to translate complex societal issues into deeply personal stories. Novels like The Grapes of Wrath or Les Misérables are remembered not just for their depiction of historical events but for the personal stories of struggle, resilience, and injustice that they tell. These stories are not just about the events themselves ut about the human experience within those events. The success of such works illustrates the power of personification: when we can see the human side of a larger issue, we are far more likely to be moved by it.
The Danger of Human Stories
While human stories can move us, they can also be misleading. The emotional weight of a personal narrative can obscure the broader context of an issue, leading us to form conclusions based solely on emotional responses. When the image of a single individual moves us, we can easily overlook the systemic factors or larger trends that contribute to the problem. A single person’s story may not represent an issue’s full scale or complexity.
For example, media coverage of a natural disaster might focus on a particular family’s experience, showing their loss and struggle. While this humanizes the issue and draws attention to the disaster, it can also divert attention from the broader context—such as the government’s role, the long-term environmental impact, or the societal changes needed to prevent future tragedies. It’s important to recognize that while individual stories are powerful, they can sometimes oversimplify complex issues.
To ensure a balanced understanding of a situation, seeking out the facts and statistics behind the stories is essential. When we engage with human narratives, we should also ask for the larger context. What is the full scope of the issue? What are the underlying causes? By coupling the emotional power of personification with a deeper understanding of the facts, we can make informed decisions and respond appropriately to challenges. The story may move us, but the context will guide our actions.
Conclusion: Harnessing the Power of Personification
Personification—imbuing a crisis, a conflict, or a movement with a human face—has always been a powerful tool in shaping public perception. Whether used by the media, politicians, or storytellers, it is a method that taps directly into the emotional core of human beings. Understanding the psychology behind this approach, we can navigate the emotional currents that such stories stir and ensure our reactions are heartfelt and informed. When wielded carefully, personification has the potential to bring about profound change, but it is vital to remember that behind every human story, there lies a bigger, more complex truth.
This article is part of The Art of Thinking Clearly Series based on Rolf Dobelli’s book.