A Mirror to Our Society’s Declining Empathy
Mohammad Arfat
In the heart of a bustling crowd, a man stands alone—not for help, but for spectacle. People surround him not with concern, but with cameras raised, recording every moment. Some laugh openly, finding amusement in his confusion. He may not even comprehend why he has become the centre of attention. This is no isolated scene; it reflects a disturbing trend in our society today. When we reduce a fellow human being to mere content, we strip away their dignity and humanity.
In recent days, several videos have gone viral on social media featuring **Fayaz Ahmad Rather**, popularly known as **Fayaz Scorpio**, from North Kashmir. In these clips, crowds gathered around him in places like Langate Park in Handwara, mocked him, and filmed the encounter for entertainment. The situation escalated to such an extent that police had to intervene. Handwara Police registered a case and arrested three youths for nuisance and harassment. Similar cognisance was taken by police in Sopore. What many dismissed as harmless fun was, in reality, a clear case of public humiliation.
Yet the problem extends far beyond this single incident. It forces us to confront a deeper question: What kind of society are we becoming?
Fayaz did not gain attention through talent, achievement, or contribution. His “fame” stems solely from videos in which people laugh at his appearance, mannerisms, or perceived vulnerabilities. This is not celebrity; it is exploitation. In the age of social media, anything unusual or different spreads rapidly, often without a second thought. We share, like, and comment, forgetting that behind every clip is a real person—with emotions, dignity, and a life that extends well beyond those few seconds of footage.
Fayaz may not fully grasp the scale of this mockery or realise that thousands are watching and laughing at his expense. But the damage to his self-respect is undeniable. Public humiliation on such a platform inflicts lasting harm, even if the victim appears unaware.
When we consume these videos, a dangerous psychology often takes hold: we feel superior, deriving a false sense of comfort from someone else’s perceived weakness. This fleeting satisfaction erodes our own humanity. It dulls our capacity for kindness and normalises cruelty disguised as entertainment. Some may argue it is “just for fun” with no malicious intent. However, intent does not absolve impact. Laughter at another’s expense still causes pain, whether visible or hidden.
Social media has amplified this issue. Algorithms reward shocking, strange, or emotionally charged content, pushing it to wider audiences. Kindness and respect, by contrast, rarely go viral. What was once a societal instinct—to protect and support the vulnerable—has increasingly been replaced by the urge to record and share for likes and laughs. This shift reveals a profound moral erosion.
We must not treat this as just another viral episode. It demands serious reflection on our collective behaviour. We need greater responsibility: stop recording and sharing videos that mock the vulnerable. Families and educational institutions must actively teach empathy, respect, and human dignity. Law enforcement should continue taking firm action in such cases, as seen in Handwara and Sopore. Above all, each of us must look inward and choose compassion over cruelty.
Silence in the face of such incidents is not neutrality—it is complicity. A society that derives entertainment from the weaknesses of its most vulnerable members risks losing its soul. True progress lies not in viral fame built on humiliation, but in restoring the values of kindness and humanity that once defined us.
If we fail to change, this will not end with Fayaz Ahmad Rather. It will erode the fabric of our society, one mocking video at a time.
Mohammad Arfat Wani is a writer, social activist, and nursing student from Kuchmulla, Tral. He writes on social issues, culture, and public concerns to raise awareness and foster positive change.
