Hey, this is Shae from the past interrupting this week’s newsletter to say how grateful I am that you’re here! I love taking the time each week to write these newsletters and respond to your emails and comments. Turning on paid subscriptions doesn’t quite work for this publication yet. However, if you would like to support me, you can send a one-off gift, so I can keep buying matcha while I write these newsletters–thanks for supporting an emerging writer!
It’s 2 am in Queens, New York. A woman just finished her late shift at a bar near her apartment. The bar has been doing quite well for the past few years, so she used that extra income to get herself an apartment in Kew Gardens, a nice and uppity part of Queens. The streets are quiet, but darkness still speaks. As she approaches her apartment, she thinks she’s alone, but something else, someone else has been lurking in the shadows.
Suddenly, a man with a knife springs on this woman stabbing her multiple times. As her screams filled the empty streets, bedroom lights turned on. The assailant flees under the cover of darkness. The woman drags her wounded body to a nearby stoop, just mere feet from her apartment door. Minutes pass, blood drips.
The assailant returns and continues his assault. By the time, the police arrive, she’s on her last breath and dies on the way to the hospital. Who was she?
Her name was Catherine “Kitty” Genovese. This took place on March 13, 1964.
At the time, journalists asked the very question you might be thinking: Why didn’t anyone call for help?
The March 27, 1964 New York Times headline read:
“37 Who Saw Murder Didn't Call the Police; Apathy at Stabbing of Queens Woman Shocks Inspector” 1
The person who murdered Kitty Genovese was eventually caught, tried, and sentenced to death. It was later alleviated to life in prison, where he died in 2016.
This murder case laid the foundation for the development of a theory in social psychology called the “Bystander Effect.” If you live in a major city, chances are you’ve developed a certain level of apathy towards your fellow city dweller. The theory suggests that this apathy makes you numb to the suffering of others and reduces your likelihood of intervening in a situation where someone needs help.
The Bystander Effect also presumes that people are more likely to stand by in a crisis moment, especially, in public or any large setting because each person believes someone else will do something. Consider it the anti-Good Samaritan theory.
For decades, the murder of Kitty Genovese has baffled social scientists and has led many to question the callousness of our fellow human beings. It revealed how delicate yet taut our social fabric was, each person tugging to cover themselves and leaving everyone else cold, seeking shelter. Yet there’s so much more to this story, stay tuned!
Welcome to the history of (post) modern living series! If you missed any of the past episodes, be sure to check them out here:
I’ve found when journalists, writers, and social critics try to diagnose the times we’re living in, they often quip that everyone just wants to be famous. In fact, in 2022, Vice News did a documentary on Gen Z kids skipping college for a chance of getting famous on TikTok instead (Given the increasing prices of higher education in the United States, there’s a larger conversation to be had on this, hopefully, in a future newsletter).2
It’s undeniable that with the ease of technology, anyone can make a viral video or post with the right conditions. However, fame is not cheap. It comes at a cost.
I think the real desire is everyone wants to be seen, heard, and recognized. In the absence of deep, high-quality relationships, people are making do with more numerous low-quality relationships. Sometimes a couple hundred likes on a post and a few dozen encouraging comments on an Instagram announcement can make you feel seen, but not deeply.
Reading Kitty Genovese’s story you may think, wow, not much has changed. It’s easy to take a pessimistic approach to understanding what happened here. The conclusion one could draw is that everyone is just as selfish and self-centered as they were in the 1960s. In a city as big and vibrant as New York how could no one respond to the moaned cries of a dying woman? Turns out people did respond.
When local historians and lawyers sat down to reexamine the evidence from the Kitty Genovese murder case they found that The New York Times got it wrong.
The moment someone heard Kitty’s screams, multiple people called the police. In the 1960s, there was no national emergency number like 911, so residents had to dial their local precinct to send police officers to the crime scene. To date, historians have not been able to find evidence that 38 witnesses stood by and watched Kitty Genovese get murdered.3 What they did find were people as young as 15 doing what they could to help Genovese even though they couldn’t see her from their windows.
As famous as this case may be the truth is in her last moments, someone reached out to Kitty. Someone recognized her suffering.
We all need and desire recognition–to be deeply seen and heard. Since everyone has this desire, I believe we’re also wired to want to give it. David Brooks puts it this way:
“Human beings need recognition as much as they need food and water. No crueler punishment can be devised than to not see someone, to render them unimportant or invisible. “The worst sin towards our fellow creatures is not to hate them,” George Bernard Shaw wrote, “but to be indifferent to them: that’s the essence of inhumanity.” To do that is to say: You don’t matter. You don’t exist.”4
What some are diagnosing as a desire for fame, I think is just a desire for recognition.
The need for recognition is why you take it personally when someone doesn’t respond to your messages. The need for recognition is why you do or post certain things to be seen by your peers and elders. The need for recognition is why your gut churns when you witness an injustice.
The need for recognition is not a bad thing, it’s a human thing. Maybe your social fabric just needs to be resown by the people whose recognition matters the most to you. Fame is having all eyes on you. Recognition is having the right eyes on you.
Which one do you really desire?
With care,
Hi, I’m Shae! I’m a doctoral candidate in History at Harvard University. I am also a writer weaving together storytelling, literature, primary sources, and whatever else catches my attention to bring us all closer to understanding this thing we collectively call life. This is a digital classroom, a TED Talk stage, and sometimes just a spot in a coffee shop where two friends gather. Whatever this space is for you, I’m glad you’re here 🤓.
You can read the original article in the New York Times archive machine: https://www.nytimes.com/1964/03/27/archives/37-who-saw-murder-didnt-call-the-police-apathy-at-stabbing-of.html?smid=url-share
In the meantime, you can watch the documentary here:
The following is a great study that breaks down some of the myths behind the murder of Kitty Genovese case: Rachel Manning et al. “The Kitty Genovese Murder and the Social Psychology of Helping: The Parable of the 38 Witnesses.” The American Psychologist, vol. 62, no. 6, 2007, pp. 555–62, https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.62.6.555.
David Brooks, How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen (p. 9).