Taste Requires Empathy

(In response to my recent ranting about critics and the role they serve in humanity - and hey, I can argue both sides - Max K. wanted me to remember this idea, which inspired the rest of this post)

“Taste requires empathy.” 

I’d like you to remember that too.

Because empathy asks the question, “What’s going on with this person beneath the surface?” And it doesn’t attempt to answer it.

It might take us into what their experience reminds us about our own experience, but it doesn’t take their experience away from them.

In any way.

When we say a person has good taste in music, or art, or even food, we’re saying they’re good curators of emotional inspirations.

When we say a person has bad taste, in any area, we’re saying they’re unreliable curators of inspiration, and mostly because they interject too much of themselves into the experience.

Empathy leaves a gap.

A good critic highlights the gap.

When a friend says, “I love to skate to this tape. Raw energy. Can you imagine catching them live and singing along to these songs? Oh man, raw power.” There’s the gap. They can make you a copy of the tape, you can pop it in your walkman, and you can try it all out for yourself.

When a less-friendly person says, “This is such garbage. Just - derivative trash music. The people who listen to this are morons. I can’t even handle looking at this let alone hearing it.” There’s no gap. There’s no room in or around whatever is on the tape. They’ve already decided for you.

It’s important to have good taste. It’s important to be good curators of good vibes. It’s important to practice good critical hygiene.

If you want good taste, practice good empathy.

Whether you’re the artist, or the critic, empathy is electric.

ps. there are a ton more empathy posts here, but this one, about studying empathy in a scene from Pulp Fiction, remains one of my favorites.