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Journalism of Courage
(UPSC Ethics Simplified draws attention to topics related to applied ethics, especially those making headlines. Recently, UPSC has been focusing on contemporary issues and posing ethical questions to candidates. In the past, we have examined pollution, war, sports, finance, international relations, bureaucracy, the Prada-Kolhapuri chappals controversy, the work-life balance debate and judiciary through the lens of ethics. Today, Nanditesh Nilay, who writes fortnightly for UPSC Essentials, addresses another pressing issue — Can compassion bridge the gap between humans and animals?)
In a significant development, a three-judge bench of the Supreme Court on Thursday reserved its interim order on managing the stray dog population in the National Capital Region (NCR). The court’s move follows close on the heels of another bench’s suo motu proceedings, which directed the relocation of stray dogs from public streets to designated shelters.
The directive has sparked protests, particularly from dog lovers and animal welfare groups. Where is this heading? Only time will tell. But beyond the legal and logistical debates, a deeper question remains: What does true compassion look like?
Today, let’s set aside theory and legal jargon — and instead, experience compassion as a lived emotion, through the power of a story.
“Why are you running on the wrong side of the road?” Kiran Kumar called out.
Mangat, out of breath, suddenly stopped. “My calf has been missing since yesterday,” he said. “I’ve been searching for him all night, going here and there.”
Kiran nodded, surprised. “That’s strange — I am also looking for someone. My puppy Simsim ran out the front gate this morning and disappeared.” He paused, then asked, “What’s the name of your calf?”
Mangat hesitated, unsure. But then he said quietly, “Sir, you must have heard me calling him. I’ve been shouting his name again and again. My calf is very innocent. His name is Sangat.”
The two parted ways, each walking the same road but with different hopes in their hearts.
A while later, Kiran’s phone rang. It was Mangat again.
“Sir, there’s a small white dog outside a colony gate. I’ve picked him up. What should I do?”
Kiran’s heart skipped a beat. “Check his teeth! One of them is yellow, the rest are white. Or maybe his throat sounds hoarse. Keep him close and don’t let him go, Mangat. Please keep talking to me.”
Mangat tried to look, but the puppy was wriggling, restless. Trying to force his mouth open felt dangerous. Desperate, Mangat even barked like a puppy. Nothing worked.
“Simsim? Speak, Simsim! Kiran sir is worried for you!” he said softly. “But you’re acting stubborn. And now—oh no—why are you peeing here?”
The call was still on.
“He has a soft heart, Mangat,” Kiran said. “If he smiles, you’ll see that yellow tooth. I’m almost there.”
Mangat had an idea. Maybe the pup was hungry. He took out some biscuits and offered them. Simsim wagged his tail, ate a few, and finally—smiled. A small, golden tooth shone.
“Sir! I see it. His tooth! It’s shining, a little golden too!”
Kiran sighed in relief and ran faster. But suddenly, someone else was running behind him. He turned—and was stunned.
“Mangat! I’ve found Sangat!” he said. “He’s standing with me. Every time I run, he tries to follow. But his left leg is hurt. I can’t let him run.”
“Sir, he is weak and gentle. Please take care of him. I’m bringing Simsim to you,” Mangat replied.
But as he crossed the road, Mangat slipped. He fell hard, and Simsim jumped out of his arms. The cold winter morning made the pain worse. But Simsim didn’t run away. He left the biscuits and returned to Mangat’s side, licking his hand, sitting close.
Kiran was still on the phone.
“What now, Mangat? I can’t leave Sangat.”
Both stood still, torn. Simsim and Sangat didn’t understand the call. But both understood one thing—they were safe, and they were not alone.
Half an hour later, Mangat was able to walk again. Simsim stayed close, careful, walking slowly by his side. On the other side, Kiran gently cleaned Sangat’s wound with his handkerchief. It was so soothing that Sangat sat down in peace.
Finally, Mangat reached. The moment he saw Sangat, he forgot his pain and ran. Sangat stood too, and they hugged—not as man and animal, but as two souls finding each other. Simsim nuzzled against Kiran’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Then something unexpected happened.
Simsim jumped out of Kiran’s arms and ran toward Mangat. And Sangat, who had refused to move, stayed by Kiran’s side. Mangat became emotional.
“Go back, Simsim. Don’t follow me. I will cry.”
But Simsim circled Mangat’s feet lovingly. Sangat, limping slightly, tried to show Kiran that he was strong enough to walk. Kiran laughed through his tears and ran a little. Sangat followed, delighted.
The sun began to shine, casting golden light on the road—and on four beings who had just shared something powerful.
“Glad to meet you, Mangat. I will never forget you,” Kiran Kumar said.
Simsim looked back at Mangat and flashed his golden tooth again. Sangat stood proudly beside Kiran. For the first time, it didn’t matter who was a man and who was an animal. They stood as a family.
Compassion had broken through all barriers.
Be prepared to have your ethics tested — especially when comparing two simultaneous events through the lens of compassion.
Recently, many lives were lost in the Uttarakhand landslide. But did cities like Delhi come together in empathy?
Do we protest when one human hurts another?
Do we cry out when stray dogs attack a child on the street?
Why is compassion not a social behavior?
When an animal stares, it may attack. But when a human stares, the attack has already begun. So, isn’t it time we reclaim compassion—not as a rare virtue, but as a defining trait of our humanity?
Loving animals is human. But loving people, especially the elderly, the poor, and the vulnerable, is human too.
Do we show the same unity and pain for people that Simsim showed for Mangat, or Sangat showed for Kiran?
These are questions worth asking. Because compassion should never be selective.
In ‘The Power of Compassion’, the Dalai Lama defines compassion as “an openness to the suffering of others with a commitment to relieve it.” In other words, compassion isn’t just about recognizing pain—it’s about being moved to act.
But compassion goes beyond just feeling for another person. It extends to any being or entity around us. As scholar Jason Kanov explains, compassion has three key components: noticing, feeling, and responding. British clinical psychologist Paul Gilbert further breaks it down into six core attributes: sensitivity, sympathy, empathy, motivation or caring, distress tolerance, and non-judgment.
Importantly, psychologists emphasize that compassion isn’t limited to those close to us — it can, and should, extend to strangers. Ethicists have long echoed this view.
Simsim, Sangat, and people in Uttarakhand — all needed care, all deserved kindness.
And that is what the world needs more of: not just rules and judgments—but real, shared compassion, for all living beings.
But in the noise of modern life, one question remains: How aware are we — truly — of compassion as a human responsibility?
The story of Mangat and Kiran Kumar revolves around two individuals searching for their lost animals. The story highlights that both men are faced with many challenges — emotional, physical and ethical. In the process, compassion, responsibility, and human-animal relationships appear dominantly throughout the story.
On the other hand, recent news like the Supreme Court’s directive on relocating stray dogs and the landslides in hilly part of the country leads us to ponder about selective compassion in times we live.
In this context:
(a) What does the story convey about compassion as a ethical value?
(b) When it comes to public policy, how can balance between compassion for animals and human safety and welfare be ensured?
(c) How should a civil servant ensure that compassion plays an important role in decision-making during crises?
(The writer is the author of ‘Being Good’, ‘Aaiye, Insaan Banaen’, ‘Kyon’ and ‘Ethikos: Stories Searching Happiness’. He teaches courses on and offers training in ethics, values and behaviour. He has been the expert/consultant to UPSC, SAARC countries, Civil services Academy, National Centre for Good Governance, Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI), Competition Commission of India (CCI), etc. He has PhD in two disciplines and has been a Doctoral Fellow in Gandhian Studies from ICSSR. His second PhD is from IIT Delhi on Ethical Decision Making among Indian Bureaucrats. He writes for the UPSC Ethics Simplified (concepts and caselets) fortnightly.)
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