An Alternative Definition of Compassion

The concept of compassion involves moral principles, social assessments, and complex maneuvers that can also be at the heart of “rescue and recovery”. The view we take of “compassion” is different from most psychologists, who view it as an emotion or as a way of suffering with another person, in accordance with the etymology of the word (Skeat 1888, 125). Later social scientists were to adopt this meaning (Merton 1976, 68), and many philosophers and psychologists see compassion as essentially a type of emotion (Steele 2000; Radey and Figley 2007; Leget, Gastmans, and Verkerk 2011).

An alternative view of compassion is presented here, which views emotions of various types as accompaniments to a type of human social decision‐making based on a specific neurology typical of the human species. Aspects of compassion are “beneficent”—but then, many animal activities are beneficent. Other animals care for, clean, and feed each other. They also share some of this beneficence with humans sometimes, and will do so off‐world (Rappaport and Corbally 2023). The humanity is found in the decision‐making. That is what made compassion so special, even unique, at least on Earth.

Emotions can emerge at any point in a social decision‐making process and they can change, so we still hold them important. However, we do not point to a specific emotion or time in the decision‐making process, because cultures vary in their prescribed emotions for compassion. In addition, situations and personalities vary. Compassion is universal in our species unless there is a defect in biology, personality structure, or social structure. Yet, it is expressed quite variably—again, not unexpected for a species like ours. The capacity for compassion accommodates all kinds of different human social structures.

Language has changed with society. In Rappaport and Corbally (2018), we completed an etymological analysis of “compassion” in the Septuagint Bible and the social circumstances in which the term occurred. We analyzed the words for compassion and related terms, dipping deeply into their origins and eventually coming to see that compassion was central to human social life, as some might say, at the “gut level”. The Greek words for “compassion,” “to have compassion,” “to be tender‐hearted,” and “to have mercy” all had their ultimate roots in words for the “entrails of divination,” “to eat the inner parts (of an offering),” “sensibilities,” “spirit,” and “boldness”. Compassion's full application sometimes required courage in biblical examples. It can require “guts” in today's colloquial language—a word, we suggest, that is not chosen by accident. There is a biology behind the type of decision‐making we call “compassion”.

Decision‐Making as a Useful Species Trait

We do not yet know all the neurological requirements for the emergence of a capacity for compassion, and how likely they are to evolve in other species in the universe. On Earth, compassion appears to be an evolutionary amalgamation of basic primate sociality and the exceptional decision‐making skills that emerged in our own species. It is so widely found, historically, culturally, and geographically, that we conclude it must have genetic roots. Essential for compassion is a biology that allows de minimis an assessment of future consequences of action or inaction, and an estimation of “right and wrong” along a continuum (Rappaport and Corbally 2020b; Kitcher 2009; Korsgaard 2009).

Decision‐making is still not fully modeled at genetic, synaptic, hormonal, organ, network, behavioral, and group levels. In Rappaport and Corbally (2019), for example, the levels for the emergence of compassion from genetic to group are suggested, and the concept of “cultural neural reuse” is introduced as a possible mechanism for producing both consistency and variation of compassion across the species, Homo sapiens. There is research on human decision‐making at each of these levels, for example, Popova, Kulikov, and Naumenko (2020) at the genetic and hormonal levels, but there is no integrated, testable model. Further neurological details on decision‐making can be found in Rappaport and Corbally (2022), including the application of those results to human spacefaring—which is known to cause changes in the nervous system.

There is much to suggest that human group problem‐solving is unique in the animal world, in part due to the involvement of symbolic systems and use of multiple symbolic systems concurrently. If compassion is indeed an integral part of religious thinking, as many see it, for example, the phenomena of immanence and transcendence, then there is substantial knowledge of the brain organs that manage these experiences, as well as ritual and mythology—including newly discovered functions of the cerebellum as a “quality control” of stored models that is exercised in interplay with the frontal cortex. There is an overview of the neurology of these experiences in Rappaport and Corbally (2020a). The evolution of this neurology within the context of the Extended Evolutionary Synthesis is described in detail, in Rappaport and Corbally, The Emergence of Religion in Human Evolution (2020b). Decision‐making is a featured theme.

The process of social decision‐making becomes apparent around 3 or 4 years old, when youngsters begin to solve problems in groups (Dean, Kendal, and Schapiro 2012). It is not a smooth and uncontentious process as they try one thing, then another. Children disagree, as adults do. This process is not evidenced by other primates. Group problem‐solving is one of the best traits that humans have to survive the coming changes in environmental balance on Earth, and space missions to other worlds. In the future, with the introduction of artificial intelligence, better results may be achieved with a combination of human and AI dual‐group decision‐making.

Universalization of Compassion

Culturally, compassion did not always apply to everyone, but it has changed, and, that past change suggests it can also change in the future if necessary. In the western world, the capacity blossomed historically when Jesus of Nazareth preached that it was important to help the poor. The idea of helping strangers and travelers appeared in ancient Mediterranean texts, and that idea also became part of Jesus’ teachings. The people who were new to the formula were enemies. Jesus preached that it was important to have compassion for enemies, that is, those individuals who had acted wrongly and therefore needed help. The theme has carried into the modern day. This goes far beyond the Golden Rule that is observed in the Old Testament and in Greco‐Roman culture (Kirk 2003; Seitz [1969] 2009).

Parables in the Bible detail the thought processes and intricate social steps leading to what, if any, action steps should be taken in a particular situation where compassion is appropriate. The writers of biblical stories clearly knew about these social complexities because they are featured repeatedly. The stories lay bare in a simpler time and place the essential nature of compassionate decision‐making and its potential action component. The concept has blossomed as an integral part of the modern rationale for hospitals, social welfare programs, and international aid. It most surely will become interplanetary. It may become interstellar.

Can we say the Golden Rule is universal among all intelligent and self‐aware species in the universe? Probably not, but we can model the biological features that appear to enable it here on Earth, as well as the social complexities that characterize its use. Finally, we can prepare to judge and be judged by other intelligent species. It may not be easy.

Compassion, and Rescue and Recovery Are Different

The two concepts, “compassion” and “rescue and recovery,” are similar, but different. The concept of rescue and recovery includes additional components in its ideal form. It emphasizes an action component that, for compassion, was derivative. Rescue and recovery are not tentative, but purposeful, directed, and imperative. Of course, there are circumstances in which they would cause danger to rescuers, and then they would regrettably be withheld.

The concept of rescue and recovery implies that someone is in distress who is important to save for some reason. That reason can be internal, according to one's beliefs, or external, in response to peer pressure or law enforcement, or most likely, a combination of both. When we again examine the United Nations Preamble Part VII, High Seas, we see that there is a requirement “to render assistance to any person found at sea in danger of being lost”. That is different from compassion, whose social decision‐making stems from a gut feeling about a fellow being, rather than from a social requirement for protecting others like oneself.

The action of “saving a person” is built into the notion of “rescue and recovery” and it implies that the person should be set right and able to breathe and survive. Embedded in the imperative nature of that requirement is the notion that the person is “important” for some reason. It could be the captain or another officer, or a sailor, or a paying passenger, or even a stowaway. The provision states “person”. Therefore, rescue and recovery as a singularly coherent concept implies something about personhood, and that is where its relevance as a theological principle begins to shine through.

In the sections below, we address the issue of personhood within the broad but still restricted framework of rescue and recovery in the Bible. The stories force us to ask: “Who is worth saving?” and “Why?” This leads to our central thesis and the relevance of rescue and recovery as a theological principle for humans, and more inclusively, other “persons” in the universe.

Rescue and Recovery in the Bible

We examine selected stories of rescue and recovery in the Bible in a search for a deeper understanding of the concept and what it implies about personhood. That may be more important than readers suspect, especially in the future.

Structures, Principles, and Lessons Learned

Rescue and recovery represent a process consistent with human nature. As a concept, it fits neatly into a broader structure of theological principles and provides a context explaining the impetus for the rescue of any self‐aware human—because of the human capacity of self‐reflection and positive change, as we saw in biblical examples. Anyone so gifted is worthy of rescue. We conclude that, when possible, rescue is the only humane course of action based on Judeo‐Christian values, and the central values of other Great World Religions.

As we saw in the biblical stories, it is possible that a person selected by God to be rescued is not happy about it. Therefore, theologically, it must be assumed that God has knowledge that humans do not have. Humans are seen to be at the mercy of forces greater than they can master, and this is true, whether we reason theologically or scientifically. It appears to us that theology serves the needs of humans as intensely social and very intelligent beings, since it views them as worthy of rescue, but still imperfect.

After rescue, recovery can be difficult, and it can best be summarized theologically as a struggle between Good and Evil, as it became evident in the third version of Paul's conversion. We saw how both Paul and Job struggled with God's selection of them to be rescued. Many substance abusers describe a struggle within themselves with nearly the same forcefulness. Indeed, humans are caught routinely in choices that are difficult to make. So, the theological paradigm available to them in biblical examples is useful. It helps the believer realize the struggle. Sometimes, the struggle is not easy to recognize. One often has to stop and think.

There are cosmic dimensions to rescue and recovery. We conclude that the Bible, as a source of moral guidance, often implies a continual and lifelong struggle. This is a view with which many people would agree whether from a theological or sociological or psychological perspective. The cosmic struggle seems to fit the human perception that life is an unsettled competition between forces that are not completely under human control.

Rescue and Recovery among Intelligent Social Species

Rescue and recovery are predicated upon the notion that intelligent, self‐aware individuals are important and worth saving within a problem‐solving social structure, whatever their role, if only to support others. There is inherent value in safeguarding individuals that have an ability to view the self, others, and life itself on a timeline, and as finite, valuable, and to be cherished. Derivatives of this self‐conscious viewpoint are human beneficence, self‐correction, an ability to reason whether an action is morally wrong, regret for wrongdoing, and an ability to become better group members over time. To broaden our perspective, we ask: Could we meet other species like this someday? Are we ready?

In valuing themselves, these species (if indeed there are others) could well value other species like themselves. They therefore may value us if they recognize similar abilities. Could there be problems on meeting? Indeed, because the ability to conceive of life on a timeline is also essential in planning aggressive actions. Intelligent social groups build spacecraft, but they also build weapons. Yet, if enough self‐aware group members join in like cause to forestall those developments, then there is a chance. Self‐aware species will likely be very much aware of the chances that life presents, and they have the intelligence to calculate odds. This ability to calculate odds permeates biblical stories, but it is rarely stated in those terms. The recognition of such calculations could be an indication of another species’ intelligence and level of awareness.

Use of Scenarios in Research, Philosophy, and Planning

We illustrate rescue and recovery in a scenario of an encounter with beneficent, ethical, moral beings from another star system. The scenario we use is but one example of a variety of purposes for the hypothetical scenario. For example, scenarios have been used as teaching devices, for government planning, and as “thought pieces” in the field of philosophy. These serious purposes take the scenario far beyond the moniker of “science fiction”.

Use of the Scenario in Anticipating Extraterrestrial Species

The scenario below focuses on the points made in this analysis. We keep in mind the need for intense sociality in building both societies and starships. Cooperation, communication, ability to correct oneself and others, ability to adjudicate problems and flaws in a rational, problem‐solving context—all those qualities are needed by any species to build starships and societies. Therefore, spacefarers encountered in First Contact may be much like we are, due to parallel evolution. They may appear different, and biologically, they will be different, but our view is that there is a good chance they will be like us in important aspects of cognition and morality. Does this imply that species that are completely different from us, and with whom we shall have difficulty communicating, do not exist? No.

Readers may find most unusual the possibility that visitors to the Sol System will consider humans within the same or similar moral parameters as we do. Whether First Contact is initiated by us, by them, or by accident, they may closely watch how we treat each other (Persson 2012). During human exploration of our system, even at its outer reaches where encounters with Earthlings would be less likely, it may be possible for other species to recognize a like ability and nature. We surely understand their need to recognize such an ability. It is our need, as well.

Available Scenarios for Students of Extraterrestrial Morality

Arnold Benz and Samuel Vollenweider created a fascinating dialogue in Mission to Saturn (2021). A debate occurs en route about science and God. The authors also included an intriguing rescue scenario on Saturn's moon, Titan, that involves an enigmatic lifeform.

The tale below is a full rescue and recovery scenario that follows sequentially from an existing narrative written for “An Ecotheology for Human Settlement of the Outer Planets: Roles for Religion Beyond the Warmth of the Sun” (Rappaport and Corbally 2023). The present scenario picks up where that one leaves off. It occurs near Ganymede, the largest of Jupiter's moons, and it follows the activities, thoughts, and feelings of scientists on a voyage of discovery. The issue of cross‐contamination with non‐Earth biological species is important, and readers are referred to Arnould (2021), Billings (2021), Milligan (2021), and Peters (2021). Each of these authors takes a different perspective on off‐world biological contamination: integrating it into environmental protection; or establishing a kind of inter‐species or universal ethics; or examining the program and policy aspects.

Contamination issues found in the following scenario include protection of both terrestrial and off‐world biomes that are important to either other species or humans. As we have written before, the great distance of the outer planets from Earth could provide a buffer to protect terrestrial species from exposure to life forms with a very different chemistry or biology, compared to Earth's.

Contamination is important in the following scenario, but equally important are the expectations about other intelligences and the likelihood of encountering them in the far reaches of our Solar System. The frequent image of an unexpected landing on Earth may not be how First Contact occurs. It may not happen soon. Humans may have to wait quite a while to encounter another intelligent species. We may already be settled on the Moon, Mars, and the asteroids when it finally occurs.

If an outer planet's moon such as Jupiter's Ganymede harbors life under the frozen crust over its ocean (NASA 2022a; Planetary Society 2022), it is less likely to be directly related to Earth's life forms because of sheer distance. Ganymede has been discussed as the location of a habitable aquatic environment (SciTech Daily 2022). The conditions for life to emerge, now or in the past, appear possible. However, there is no way of knowing if the species are consistent with Earth's life forms, or if they have been evolving using a nonterrestrial biology that arranges organic molecules differently.

It remains our hope that readers will enjoy all the mentioned scenarios that give a feeling for the lengthy and distant space discovery voyages ahead of us and help to illustrate the theological issues discussed here.

What Happened at Ganymede?

The science crew of the spaceship of discovery were very busy after their visit to Enceladus, one of Saturn's moons. They identified a tiny organism in the Enceladus ocean that resembled a rotifer on Earth, but it was not on any terrestrial lineage. The shipboard biologist found the self‐replicating molecules in its cells folded in on themselves so differently, he had a hard time calling them by the terrestrial names, RNA and DNA. The crew talked about cross‐contamination, wondering yet again about safety procedures once they returned to Earth.

Unexpectedly, the Captain received new orders from Mission Control. The spaceship of discovery was directed not to visit ice‐locked Pluto, but to return to Earth via Jupiter and effect a slingshot maneuver around the planet that would propel the ship faster on a return course for their home planet. The Captain was disappointed that they would not visit Pluto. He wondered why. Yet, Mission Control said nothing of the reactions of terrestrial religious leaders to their discovery of a life form clearly on a different path of evolution. However, the comm engineer captured several clear broadcasts. The crew were alarmed at the discussion of plans to meet the ship of discovery before it reached Earth, to take and destroy its “contraband species” that two powerful alliances called “the work of the Devil.” A third alliance said they would steal the species to create a biological weapon. They did not conceal their intentions but used it as a threat to subdue other nations. Worldwide violence and international movement of troops intensified.

At length, the Captain assembled the crew and confided he was not sure who was in charge at Mission Control. The crew were shocked, but they agreed to function as normally as possible, and they did. One and a half years later, as they approached Jupiter's moon Ganymede, the news from Earth was that war had drawn in the inhabitants of the Moon, but not Mars. The Captain assembled the crew and suggested that they begin to think about returning to Mars instead of Earth. The crew members nodded, but they were clearly upset. To make matters worse, they were running low on water.

The engineers met and planned to capture water from the ice‐covered Ganymede ocean which research suggested could contain more water than all Earth's oceans. Yet, any liquid water would be kilometers below the ice crust. They reasoned that they had found a way through a barrier like this on Enceladus and they could do it again. Their only problem was purification, in case some rotifer‐like species were present in the Ganymede ocean. They did not have filtration equipment for water that would fill their tanks. They decided to get what they could and purify it later. The landing vehicle departed the spaceship of discovery and was soon eclipsed by an aurora produced periodically by Ganymede's unique lunar magnetic field. The crew thought they had lost the lander. The Captain held his breath. The landing ship reappeared, and the excavation equipment they used on Enceladus was out of the landing vehicle, but the two engineers had disappeared. The crew were stunned. Suddenly, there was a bright flash from the direction of Saturn. “Why Saturn?” they wondered. They left Saturn behind them a year and a half ago.

Finally, there was another flash accompanied by a strong vibration that shook the entire spaceship. And then, the unimaginable happened. They could see that a link to the underground ocean was opened. The tanks were filled on the landing vehicle and the water source was secured for future use. The Captain shook his head, baffled. Then an even brighter light encompassed them all and the crew were blinded. When they recovered, the holding tanks on the spaceship of discovery were full of water. They looked toward Ganymede and both the landing vessel and the two crew members were gone. The Captain smiled to himself: That was an even trade! He had always known something like this might happen out here in the far reaches of the Solar System, but he hoped someday to see his two crewmen again.

The comm engineer sent out repeated messages to Saturn's Enceladus for a week's time, but the only message to be sent in return was this reassurance in an earthly Morse code, “We are safe.” The Captain made arrangements for the slingshot procedure and calculated a new course for Mars. Just prior to initiating the slingshot maneuver, the crew strapped themselves into their harnesses, looked around, and found their missing crewmates strapped in, too, smiling! The Captain nodded and grinned. First Contact. He knew it. They might need them in the Inner Planets, the way the war was going.

The crew were overjoyed, the mood shifted, and everyone began talking excitedly about what they expected on Mars. The biologist would be delighted to get his hands on their electron microscope. The small shipboard scope answered only some of his questions about the “Saturn rotifer's” cellular mechanics. The engineers began planning procedures to prevent contamination, filter the Ganymede water, and help forestall the war from spreading to Mars. There was a great deal to do.

The story that the two missing crewmates would tell was kept private and portions of the event were erased from the Ship's Log. The Captain's Log was the only remaining documentation and it remained under seal for decades, until long after the war ended. The crew landed safely five and a half years later at the Mars orbital station.