This is a topic that’s always caught my eye in fiction – genre stuff especially, but I sit up and take notice whenever I encounter it. In a fictional landscape where we’re primed for heroes who kickass and take names, where evil gets the thrashing it deserves, every now and then we come across a hero whose approach radiates from a different place. And when we do, I call it radical compassion.
It was Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts that helped me put my thoughts together on radical compassion. In the series, Kipo has grown up being taught that the post-apocalyptic surface of the Earth is a dangerous place overrun with even more dangerous mutants, and when she finds herself on the surface, the first human she meets, Wolf, reinforces that notion. Wolf is a hard-as-flint survivor who was burned once by trusting mutes and doesn’t intend to make the same mistake again. She roves the surface with her homemade deathstalker spear, believing absolutely that the rule of the world is “kill or be killed.” Benson, the second human Kipo meets on the surface, isn’t as intense as all that – after all, his closest friend Dave is a mute – but he’s still a street-smart kid who’s ever-ready to run or pull a con if he gets himself in trouble.
As such, with every new gang of mutes that group crosses paths with in their adventures around the surface, Kipo’s friends warn her to be on her guard. They tell her to be ready to fight, that she can’t trust Mod Frogs or Timbercats or Astronomer Wolves, that most everyone she meets is probably out to capture her and hand her over to the villainous Scarlemagne, if they don’t kill her themselves first. Wolf creeps into every situation with her deathstalker spear at the ready, and even if Benson and Dave put on friendlier faces, they’re simultaneously looking out for contingencies in the event of a double-cross.
But with every gang they meet, Kipo consistently looks for another way. Rather than fight or trick her way out, she tries to make connections. She secures the help and trust of others by helping and trusting them, whether that’s by aiding the Timbercats in recovering their lost leader or impressing the Umlat Snäkes with her guitar shredding. When they confront the Mega Monkey that destroyed her people’s burrow, Kipo doesn’t try to fight and she doesn’t run away. She stands before the Mega and sings.
All of these actions are reflective of Kipo’s radical compassion. Rather than trying to best her would-be enemies before they best her, she instead sees them as would-be friends and reaches out to them in good faith. And in doing so, wherever she goes, she collects allies. For some, it takes a while to come around, and others never accept the hand she extends to them – Kipo’s friends sometimes rag on her for being overly naïve, and her sunshiny optimism doesn’t always pan out. But in the end, these alliances are what save them. Because Kipo brings people together, increasingly urging further friendship between humans and mutes as the series goes on, they’re able to withstand the onslaught of those who never come on board, who persist in seeing humans and mutes as inherent foes.
It’s this same radical compassion that allows Meg Murry to ask, “What have I got that IT hasn’t got?” and realize the answer is love. It’s Cap dropping his shield because he won’t fight Bucky. It’s James Cole on 12 Monkeys realizing that the only time he succeeded in changing the future, he did it by saving someone, not killing them. It’s the Doctor imploring, “Why not, just at the end, just be kind?” It’s the occasions when the Flash talks a villain back from the brink instead of using his powers. It’s the characters on The Good Place continually helping one another be better and Michael defending humanity with the words, “People improve when they get external love and support – how can we hold it against them when they don’t?” It’s J’onn on Supergirl worrying about how his friends will react when they discover a secret sin of his past and every friend who learns the truth responding with empathy, encouraging him to forgive himself. It’s Moana looking into the eyes of a monster and singing, “They have stolen the heart from inside you, / But this does not define you.”
Don’t get me
wrong. I’m certainly not immune to cheering for a badass victory, and I know
that love doesn’t always win the day and not everyone chooses to be better when
given the chance. Furthermore, understanding a villain doesn’t mean excusing
them and someone saying sorry doesn’t erase the hurt they’ve caused. But that
doesn’t mean our heroes can’t try. I think kindness can be so brave, and I know
that, for me, the battles that are won through radical compassion always
resonate harder than those won through might.
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