Compassion or Compliance: Who’s to Blame When Our Humanity Fails?
The suffering we can quietly cause by “just doing our job.”
Joe Henry lived his whole life in Denver.
At some points, unhoused.
Earlier this year, he put in the work, got sober, and landed a maintenance job at The Brown Palace Hotel. There, he said he felt needed and enjoyed solving problems for guests. He thought the situation was perfect.
Then, he lost his apartment and had no option other than to live in his car—in the middle of winter.
When his car was stolen—with everything he owned inside, including warm clothes—he slept on the streets for a couple of nights. But on an especially frigid night, he walked to The Brown Palace, granted himself access to a storage area on the tenth floor, and slept in a chair.
With no other housing options available, Joe continued returning to The Brown Palace after his shifts each evening. He’d sleep in the storage area and then take an early morning shower in one of the hotel’s out-of-order rooms.
One night, he decided to skip the storage area altogether and go straight to one of these non-functional rooms. Although he still spent plenty of nights on the streets, Joe continued sleeping there, including doing his laundry, for about three months.
Until he was caught. On August 7th.
A security guard noticed Joe crossing the hotel’s sky bridge, immediately recognized what he was up to, and told management. Joe was fired the next day.
With nowhere to go and only a bit of money, Joe was able to pay for a motel in an area west of downtown. He extended his stay every couple of days until his funds ran dry on August 19th, and he found himself back on the streets.
He died by suicide three days later.
I’m Just “Doing My Job”
Joe didn’t blame the security guard for what happened.
"He was afraid [to lose his job], he caught me coming across that bridge,” and “he had to report it,” Joe explained.
"I like him, he's a nice kid.”
I think most of us would agree that the young security guard wasn’t responsible for Joe’s death.
He wasn’t involved in Joe’s sobriety struggles and didn’t create the circumstances under which Joe was forced to sleep at The Brown Palace. He was simply in the right place at the wrong time, and he worried that by not doing his job, he could put his paycheck in jeopardy.
Who can’t relate?
After all, how many of us can afford to suddenly lose our source of income? Especially when absolving our responsibility is as simple as uttering a few words to a person in power?
The insurance customer service rep was just doing their job when they informed an elderly policyholder their coverage for an expensive procedure was denied.
The graphic designer was just doing their job when working on an ad campaign for the latest vape pen targeting teens.
The real estate agent was just doing their job when the corporation they worked for bought most of the area’s houses and rented them back to locals at twice the price.
The HR rep was just doing their job when they terminated an employee for speaking up about their manager’s power abuses.
The police officer was just doing their job when they arrested the unhoused person who fled domestic violence earlier that day but couldn’t find a place to sleep for the night.
Shifting Gears Between Compliance & Compassion
What’s the answer?
I have none. But we’re all culpable.
I recognize that 99% of us don’t have the luxury of stepping outside the machine—one that feeds on our time, energy, and often, moral shades of gray, and turns them into paychecks.
Still, we have a duty to our fellow humans to maintain mindfulness, compassion, and awareness about our roles as cogs and the power this position grants us to impact lives.
In this way, we recognize that some of our simplest, most mundane actions, even while "just doing our job," ripple far beyond our workplace walls.
With this recognition, may we remain grateful for our paychecks, the ways in which they sustain us, and the security they provide.
May we also remind ourselves that behind every paycheck is a person, while exercising our power to uplift with empathy and compassion instead of destroying with blind compliance.
What are your thoughts? What small daily steps can we take to make us more compassionate to the impact of our work?