Victims and perpetrators

Recently, two things happened almost at the same time. First, I was completely ignored due to a mix of someone else’s anxiety and my own containment. I became invisible even though the task and responsibility were mine to carry. Second, a friend of mine was accused of being a perpetrator for appearing in the wrong place at the wrong time and, unfortunately in this case, also being male. 

And it made me think how we identify victims and those in need in our society, and who we actually pay attention to. Because even though we like to think we are so advanced in our growth as humanity, we still rely on very simple schemas.

Visible vulnerability beats actual strain

Even if we want to think differently, we rely on perceptual shortcuts to identify victims. Our approach is still based on fast, emotionally and cognitively economical scanning, not real analysis. It checks for visibility and rewards fragility. It looks for who looks distressed and who appears to need help, not who carries the load or who is actually holding things together. 

It is one of our unfortunate evolutionary “benefits”. Humans evolved to respond to visible distress signals, not to invisible labour or internal strain. A person who is regulated, competent, and non-dramatic does not trigger the caregiving reflex. In fact, competence often suppresses others’ attention. “You’ve got it covered” becomes an excuse not to look closer. And when we do not look, invisibility is created. 

Simple categories work best

The same system still relies on old category cues rather than context. Gender, age, size, and physical strength are taken into account immediately. The stereotype of the boundary-breaking, potentially dangerous man versus the soft, anxious woman lives in us far more than we want to admit. As a result, some men are pre-labelled as perpetrators without evidence, and some women are pre-labelled as victims regardless of actual impact.

The schemas are not consciously used by people. Think of them as the default operating templates. When a situation is ambiguous, people fall back on typecasting because it reduces cognitive effort and emotional uncertainty. That does not mean abuse isn’t real. It means that the recognition of harm is often driven by identity signals rather than by analysis.

Moral reward system

This is where it gets interesting… People do not just help because someone is harmed. They help because helping lets them be someone. And the easier it is to feel that, the better.

It often seems to me that people’s engagement in helping others, or even getting interested in their lives, is a function of the lack of capability of the helped person rather than the actual challenge embedded in the need itself. Simple openings make people feel like they are doing something good, like they are good people, and that feels rewarding. The “I’m a good man” identity and the social signalling of “look how much I do for others” are so addictive. 

Low-effort helping feels especially good. Anxiety, visible distress, and passivity are easy to help, not only easy to scan for. They require minimal effort. You can offer comfort without challenging systems or engaging with any real complexity. And the rewards, social recognition and emotional payoff, are often disproportionate to the effort.

As a result, those who scream the loudest get the most attention, including from people who have no real stake in the matter and simply want to feel like better people by offering punishment and expressing moral judgement. The visibility of need becomes more important than the reality of harm in such cases. And in those very situations the term ‘venging fury’ is not far off. Because one thing that can happen when people who are hungry for the moral reward go into a rage is that their retribution can inadvertently hit the wrong person. 

What gets rewarded grows

So the question is: do we really want to keep relying on these default approaches? Is this what actually makes a society better?

Because if we look closely, what happens is that expressing distress becomes the fastest way to gain social status. As a result, we end up with a perverse incentive system that rewards emotional collapse, lack of capability, and the offshoring of responsibility for oneself.

Over time, people learn to externalise rather than metabolise stress and emotion. They learn to outsource responsibility and resilience. This is a slow downward slope where strength becomes socially lonely, where the people most capable of holding complexity and responsibility are the least likely to receive any care. And where many innocent people are condemned simply because they fit a stereotype, are handy, and the mindless act itself is rewarding for too many.

So the shift has to be from asking, “Who looks like a victim?” to analysing, “Who is actually carrying the load?” and asking it often, not just once during the process. That requires slower perception, more analysis, and more empathy. It is harder and offers fewer immediate rewards, but it may be the only way to reduce moral theatre in the long run.