Peanut the Squirrel and the Power of Compassion
By Steve Lemeshko
The recent public outcry over Peanut the squirrel, a social media star with over 700,000 followers, is a testament to the power of compassion. Peanut was raised at the sanctuary from infancy after his mother was hit by a car and had lived peacefully with Marc Longo for seven years, according to the owner. Peanut was a central figure at the sanctuary, helping to raise awareness and funds for the rescue of over 300 animals.
On October 30th, officers from New York's DEC searched Longo’s P’Nuts Freedom Farm Animal Sanctuary in Pine City, seizing both Peanut and a raccoon named Fred. During the raid, Peanut bit one of the officers, and the DEC euthanized both animals to test for rabies. While the officers followed protocols, the public reaction reveals a striking tension: compassion for animals clashes with regulatory rigidity.
The outpouring of grief over Peanut’s death demonstrates the way people feel deeply for a single, relatable story. Time and again, we see how one animal’s story can evoke empathy more powerfully than statistics about widespread suffering. This phenomenon, known as psychic numbing, often causes us to respond more intensely to the plight of a single, identifiable animal than to larger, more complex issues. For example, in 2002, nearly $300,000 was spent on rescuing Hokget, a terrier stranded on an oil tanker in the Pacific, despite the scale of human suffering globally. As Shankar Vedantam mentions in The Week article “The Problem with Human Compassion,” this selective empathy reflects “the remarkable capacity human beings have to empathize [with one dog] around the world—when there are millions of children who need our help.”
Our compassion for Peanut also resembles the public reaction to Pale Male, a red-tailed hawk evicted from his nest in NYC in 2004. As Nicholas Kristof pointed out in the NYT op-ed, Pale Male’s eviction “aroused more indignation than two million homeless Sudanese.” We tend to rally around the immediate, visible suffering of one rather than the diffused pain of many. Similarly, in Peanut’s case, media coverage has focused almost exclusively on Peanut, with Fred, the raccoon, largely overlooked—a reflection of our inherent difficulty in empathizing with more than one victim.
The public's intense focus on Peanut rather than the broader issue of animal welfare also illustrates a phenomenon known as pseudoinefficacy. When faced with a singular, identifiable victim, we feel our actions are more impactful and meaningful than when confronted with multiple victims or abstract issues, where individual efforts may feel diluted. This selective compassion for one often translates into stronger emotional responses and increased willingness to help.
As sad as this story is, it also shows the public’s capacity for compassion, particularly when driven by individual stories that resonate deeply. Recognizing the power of these connections, we might consider how personal stories—like Peanut’s—could encourage a pathway to broader empathy and action, prompting us to consider animal welfare and conservation on a larger scale. As Kristof suggested in his commentary on the Darfur genocide, “If [...] the global public alike are unmoved by the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of fellow humans, maybe our last, best hope is that we can be galvanized by a puppy in distress.”
For further reading, see the following articles:
Remembering names beyond numbers / April 7, 2024
How do we know what animals are really feeling? / May 10, 2024
Psychic Numbing and the Environment / May 23, 2019