I’m not surprised that nobody called for help. But I do believe there is no excuse, even for the 13-year-old. Stories are reported all the time in which kids as young as 3 have called 911 and gotten “Mommy” saved from some disaster. The victim in this case wasn’t the 13-year-old’s mother, but unless the kid was retarded or had no kind of moral upbringing he could have used a telephone to get help.
Gobear’s reference to Kitty Genovese might have been passed over by many here who are too young to remember the event. Here is one of many stories about the Genovese murder, this one reported in the NY Times.
Maastricht has an interesting point about the “bystander effect,” but there are too many and too frequent examples of individuals with a sense of moral responsibility to take it too seriously. Some people simply don’t want to get involved, and if they ever had a sense of responsibility it takes a back seat to their desire to be safe. Whatever its cause, this behavior is shameful.
In my own experience, people have refused to help even when there was no threat to them personally.
One morning, as I was returning from a job interview, I got off the bus and started to walk home. I was carrying my attaché case. I must have been distracted by something. I tripped on a slab of concrete in the sidewalk that was raised either by an earthquake or a tree root. I tripped and lurched forward. I ran, trying to get my feet back underneath me and regain my balance. But the attaché case pulled me farther off-balance. I went down hard on my face in the street.
I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. My arms and legs didn’t work at all, and I felt as if someone had a foot between my shoulder blades pushing me down. I almost lost consciousness. I had put my hands out to break my fall, but the slight scrapes indicated that my hands hadn’t absorbed much of the fall. My face did. When I was able to get to my knees I realized that my glasses were broken and that I was bleeding. The right side of my face stung, and there was blood coming from my nose.
There was a man walking a little ahead of me before this happened. He stopped, turned around, saw me on the pavement and said, “Are you all right?” I said, “No!” about this time a car pulled up and a woman’s voice said, “Are you all right?” Again I said, “No!” I was struggling to rise. The man didn’t offer me a hand up. Instead he turned around and continued walking. The woman, whose car I never saw (all I could see was the pavement – and that not too clearly because I was dizzy and my glasses were on the street) drove on. So much for neighborly concern.
After I got to my feet I was still reeling, trying to keep my balance. I still had a few blocks to walk to get home. The man who had been there was still walking in the same direction I was going, now at least a block ahead of me. He never looked around again. For all he knew I could have passed out or died in the street.
Two individuals, not a crowd, first took the time to ask if I was okay. Then after establishing that I was NOT okay they shrugged it off and left me bleeding in the street. Where was the bystander effect there? They just didn’t give a shit. I can’t imagine why they didn’t just walk and drive on repectively without speaking to me, since neither was disposed to give me aid.
Perhaps a lot of people would have helped, but we live in a world of increasing personal isolation in which too many people don’t really give a shit about each other.