The Good Samaritan and the Power of Context

“A person who fails to help is not necessarily an uncaring person. A person who helps is not necessarily someone who possesses an enduring essence of goodness.”

In their famous Good Samaritan experiment, psychologists John Darley and Daniel Batson replicated and, in a sense, amended the biblical parable.

They examined whether seminarians’ religious motivations—including whether religion served their own salvation or reflected a concern for others—would influence their willingness to help someone in distress.

Surprisingly, religious orientation did not significantly predict helping behavior. What mattered much more was whether the seminarians were in a hurry.

The findings invite us to reconsider the priest and Levite who passed by the injured man. Perhaps their failure to help was not simply a reflection of their moral character. Perhaps they, too, were running late.

The lesson is not that character or values are irrelevant, but that behavior cannot be adequately understood apart from the context in which it occurs.

Based on Darley and Batson (1973), as discussed in The Person and the Situation by Lee Ross and Richard Nisbett.

The Complexity of Diagnosis Is Not Evidence of Progress

“In lieu of real progress we have created a system of enormous complexity and unknown treatment utility. There are over 10 million combinations of signs and symptoms that can yield a DSM diagnosis, and if specifiers are included, that number soars to 161 septillion (Borgogna et al., 2024). Diagnostic criteria allow for incredible combinatorial heterogeneity – for example, there are 636,120 ways of being diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (Galatzer-Levy & Bryant, 2013).”

— S. C. Hayes et al., Clinical Psychology Review (2026)

The increasing complexity of psychological classification raises an important question: Are we improving our understanding of human suffering, or merely multiplying the ways we categorize it?

— Nathan Chua

Being a Human Being is Doing Being Human

You may have heard the old saying that sometimes we become human doings rather than human beings.

But perhaps we miss something in that distinction. Being is also doing. Being human is something we do—moment by moment, choice by choice—as we create a life of meaning and purpose.

The human doing the old saying warns us about is the life spent chasing one achievement after another, as though a life could be measured by everything we manage to accomplish.

But living well is a different kind of doing. A worthwhile life is built much like a house: not all at once, but one brick at a time. So is a worthwhile relationship. We build it in the small things we do today, and then again tomorrow—the conversation we choose to have, the kindness we offer, the moment we stay when it would be easier to turn away.

There is no final brick called a meaningful life. The building is the living. Being human is this continuing process of choosing, moment by moment, what we want each moment to stand for. Each life is built from all those moments you showed up for.

Walden and Walden Two: Understanding the Difference Between Thoreau and Skinner’s Utopia

Thoreau sought a better life by stepping away from conventional society.

Skinner imagined building a better society so people wouldn’t have to step away from it.

Sometimes the problem is not simply the person,

but the context in which the person is trying to live.

Naming vs. Understanding Psychological Problems

“In behavioral therapy, we focus on how the problem works, not what it’s called.”
A label can describe a pattern—anxious, impulsive, avoidant, perfectionistic. But therapy needs to go further. We ask what keeps the pattern going: What happens before it? What follows it? What rules are you living by? And does the behavior still work in the context you’re in today?
Understanding how a problem works gives us somewhere to intervene.

The Hidden Costs of Greater Understanding

One of the hidden costs of developing a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world we create is grieving the unnecessary suffering within it. Once you see how much pain is sustained by unquestioned assumptions rather than inevitability, it’s difficult not to wonder how much suffering could have been averted had we been more willing to question the assumptions that shape our relationships, our institutions, and the way we understand and treat one another.