Understanding why some people are so courageous

It is useful to reflect on some of the small acts we all carry out to help others 

In the hospital where I work, I observe mostly unsung acts of selflessness and courage. It is humbling. As a society and certainly within healthcare, we depend on sacrifices from patients, families, and staff. Parents of sick children are almost universally willing to give up everything they know, including their own health, to gain happiness for their child. That loving motivation is clear. What is less clear is why certain people will do that for people they do not know.

In early June a great-grandmother originally from Douglas, Co Cork, was detained in the West Bank and deported by Israeli forces. Deirdre ‘D’ Murphy had moved to the village of Khallet al-Dabaa several weeks earlier to live with the besieged population, bearing witness to the desolation of their homes. She had travelled there many times as part of an anti-occupation movement. It was an extraordinary act of selflessness – but not unique. Dotted throughout catastrophic events in world history there are similar stories of ‘ordinary’ individuals who felt compelled to push aside fears for their safety and act for others.

From Rosa Parks to people who hid and smuggled Jewish children out of Nazi rule, and a thousand other examples, understanding what prompts some people to boldly act gives us clues on how we can encourage more bravery.

When a passerby jumps into the sea to save a drowning child, we celebrate their act of heroism. When a firefighter carries a woman out of a burning house, we celebrate it less. Somewhere between a spontaneous act of courage and an occupation built on bravery and skill, we make a judgement that one act is more notable than another. The training that prepares a healthcare professional to leap into action is vital. But the seemingly random heroics from ordinary people would suggest that all humans have the potential to act in a selfless manner. To paraphrase the writer John Banville, every day of our lives prepares us to step up for another person. There is much hope to be found in this possibility.

Repeatedly during the pandemic, we heard that not all heroes wear capes – some wear scrubs and gowns. It was a phrase that later became tokenistic, as misinformation grew about the virus, vaccines and deaths and public confidence in healthcare waned. The phrase lived on to acknowledge the ordinary, but heroic acts that many people perform as part of their job, voluntary work or home life.

Science journalist Elizabeth Svoboda explored the origins of heroism in her book, What makes a Hero? The Surprising Science of Selflessness. It gives fascinating neuroscientific and anthropological insight into selfless acts of courage. Carrying out an unsolicited act of courage and compassion causes a release of the hormones dopamine and oxytocin, which produce feelings of pleasure, satisfaction, and bonding. From the perspective of human behaviour within a tribe, the presence of individuals who went further than others to protect the lives of vulnerable members, especially children, conferred an overall survival advantage for the community. Psychologically, big and small actions grounded in enshrining our common good, provide communities with hope for the future. Heroic acts may also extract a sense of meaning from harsh conditions faced by disaffected people.

Uniting people who strike out bravely with those who celebrate courage has positive effects on individual and community mental health.

Focusing on acts of heroism can also temporarily relieve terror experienced during conflict. This was tapped into by veteran US broadcaster Fred Rogers, who encouraged children to “look for the helpers; there are always people trying to help”. But we need people to be helpers, not simply to seek them.

We can take these insights into our homes, schools, and workplaces. Setting aside professionals who endure rigorous training to climb down a helicopter winch or defuse a bomb, most episodes of courage develop in response to a sudden event or plight of another person. That person may be thousands of kilometres away, but their distress tugs on a force hidden inside an ordinary stranger. Nurturing positive values of courage and empathy puts acts of heroism within reach and is probably the only way to prepare for awe-inspiring bravery. To be a nation primed to act for others, when suddenly called upon to do so.

I’m not a strong swimmer and panic in cold water, so I wouldn’t be much use in a rescue; we all have different strengths. However, it is useful to reflect on some of the small acts we have carried out to help others. We share the experience of what we did and how it made others feel and it is there that heroism begins.

Heroes are ordinary; their stories exist in everyone.

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Dr Suzanne Crowe is a Consultant in Paediatric Intensive Care and President of the Medical Council