We've lost our sense of outrage, our anger, and our grief about

The dim light of the café bathed the room in warmth as the evening settled in. The soft hum of conversation surrounded Jack and Jeeny, but there was a certain stillness between them, as if the weight of the world outside had quieted their words. Jack sat, his elbows on the table, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup, staring out the window as the city’s lights blurred through the drizzle. Jeeny, across from him, was lost in her thoughts, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

Host: The quiet seemed to stretch on, and then, Jeeny’s voice broke the stillness, low but intentional.

Jeeny: “I came across something today by Chris Jordan that struck me. He said, ‘We’ve lost our sense of outrage, our anger, and our grief about what’s going on in our culture right now, what’s going on in our country, the atrocities that are being committed in our names around the world. They’ve gone missing; these feelings have gone missing.’ Do you think that’s true? Have we lost that sense of outrage, of being moved by what’s happening around us?”

Jack: He turned toward her slowly, his eyes tired but thoughtful. “It feels that way, doesn’t it? Everything feels like it’s happening so fast that we can’t keep up, like we’re being hit with wave after wave of bad news. And maybe we’ve just gotten numb to it. It’s not that we don’t care—we’re overwhelmed, and it’s easier to step back than to feel that outrage, that anger. It’s exhausting.”

Jeeny: Her voice was steady, but there was an undeniable sadness in it as she responded. “I think that’s exactly it. We’re living in a time where so many things are wrong, and it feels like it’s happening on such a large scale that we can’t possibly process it all. And maybe, in that process, we’ve lost the ability to feel. It’s not just about feeling angry or sad—it’s about not knowing how to act on those feelings. We’ve been desensitized to the injustice, to the cruelty.”

Host: The soft clink of silverware and the faint murmur of distant voices seemed to fade as the weight of their conversation settled between them. Jack’s fingers stilled on his cup, his gaze shifting toward Jeeny.

Jack: “But why have we lost it? Why does it feel like people don’t care as much anymore? I mean, we’re supposed to be moved by what’s happening, to feel like we have to do something, right? But more and more, it seems like people just shrug it off. We’re all so distracted, so focused on our own lives, that we don’t stop to think about the larger picture. It’s like we’ve stopped being connected to the real problems.”

Jeeny: She leaned forward slightly, her voice quiet but insistent. “I think we’ve been conditioned to accept it. Everything feels so far away, so removed. We watch the news, and it’s like we’re living in a separate world. But the reality is that these things affect us. They shape who we are, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. And the more we ignore it, the easier it becomes to detach from it altogether.”

Host: The atmosphere in the café seemed to shift, growing heavier as their conversation deepened. Jack sat still for a moment, absorbing her words, his fingers wrapped tightly around his cup, as though searching for an answer.

Jack: “So, are you saying that we’re the ones at fault? That we’ve let ourselves become numb? That we’ve turned a blind eye to the suffering, the atrocities, because it’s easier than confronting it?”

Jeeny: “I think so, yes. It’s easier to stay numb than to feel the pain, the outrage. But what happens when we stop feeling? When we stop caring? How do we fix things if we’re not even moved enough to act? I think the problem is that we’ve become too comfortable with the idea of inaction. We don’t see the urgency anymore.”

Host: The quiet between them deepened, filled with the weight of their shared understanding. Jack’s gaze softened, his thoughts now clearly on the larger implications of their conversation.

Jack: “It’s easy to get lost in it all, isn’t it? To feel like we don’t have the power to change anything. To look at the news and feel like there’s nothing we can do. Maybe that’s why we’ve become numb—because it’s the only way to survive in the face of all this chaos.”

Jeeny: “But I think that’s the danger. When we stop feeling, when we stop caring, we lose our ability to change things. Outrage, anger, grief—they are the catalysts for change. It’s when we feel that pain and channel it into action that we start to make a difference. If we lose those feelings, we lose our capacity to make a real impact.”

Host: The world outside continued its steady hum, the rain now lightening into a quiet mist, but inside, Jack and Jeeny sat in the weight of their conversation. The understanding between them was clear: indifference is the enemy of change. Action comes from feeling, from allowing ourselves to be moved by the injustices around us, and it is through that feeling that change can begin.

Jack: “I guess we can’t afford to lose that anymore, can we? We have to keep feeling, keep being outraged, or we risk becoming a part of the problem. We have to let ourselves care.”

Jeeny: Her smile was small but knowing. “Exactly. It’s the only way to make sure that we don’t let everything fall apart.”

Host: The conversation had settled into a quiet realization that the lost emotions—anger, grief, and outrage—are not only vital to our empathy but essential to the change we wish to see in the world. Outside, the world continued to turn, but in their small corner of the café, there was the unspoken understanding that we must feel if we are to act, and it is only through action that we can reclaim what has gone missing.