The Harm of Comparisons: Soothing White Guilt

As white women navigating a world shaped by privilege, many of us have found ourselves falling into the comparison trap. It’s easy, isn’t it? We see someone else’s pain or triumph, and instinctively, we relate it back to our own experiences. It feels natural, even empathetic. But what if I told you that these comparisons often do more harm than good? Drawing on comparisons in conversation can shut down even the lightest of topics. So let's unpack the hidden harm behind comparisons so you and I can continue on our path to build more intentional and impactful conversations.

The Pitfalls of Comparison

In Episode 8 of our podcast, Karen and I dove into this topic headfirst. We explored how comparisons—though often well-meaning—can inadvertently diminish others' lived experiences. For instance, we talked about Jamie Lee Curtis’s recent comment comparing wildfire devastation in her neighborhood to Gaza. While her intent may have been to convey the gravity of the situation, her analogy sparked backlash. Why? Because comparing a natural disaster to the horrors of war not only diminishes the profound and ongoing suffering of people in war-torn areas but also detracts from the grief of those affected by the natural disaster. Most Americans will never experience a war zone firsthand, making such comparisons not only ineffective but also disconnected from reality. Instead of illuminating the gravity of the situation, these comparisons risk trivializing both experiences, reducing their unique complexities and emotional weight to a false equivalency.

Beyond Jamie Lee Curtis, we see examples of harmful comparisons play out daily in the media. Consider the way some people discuss issues like the refugee crisis. When individuals compare fleeing war zones to "taking a difficult trip," it trivializes the unimaginable sacrifices and dangers faced by those seeking safety.

Similarly, in conversations about police violence, comparisons to personal encounters with authority figures can feel tone-deaf. A traffic stop that ended with a warning is not comparable to the systemic brutality faced by marginalized communities. These comparisons, even when made in an attempt to relate, can erase the unique pain of oppressed groups.

But this is about all of us (white women). It’s about the inherited cultural habits that lead us to center our perspective, often unintentionally, over the realities of others. These tendencies, rooted in privilege, can derail meaningful conversations and perpetuate harm.

Why Do We Compare?

The urge to compare is deeply ingrained. As Karen mentioned in our podcast, comparisons can feel like a way to empathize or make sense of someone else’s experience. But as we discussed, this instinct is often more about our comfort than their validation.

Sometimes, comparisons stem from a sense of white guilt—an attempt to prove to ourselves or others that we "understand" pain or injustice, even when our experiences are vastly different. This guilt, while a natural response to recognizing privilege, can lead to performative empathy that shifts focus away from the person we’re trying to support. Additionally, comparisons can arise from a desire to bridge gaps in understanding, but without careful thought, they risk overshadowing the voices that most need to be heard.

Think about a time you’ve shared something deeply personal, only to have someone respond with, “Oh, I totally understand—something similar happened to me.” Did it feel comforting? Or did it feel like they were shifting the spotlight onto themselves? Or even worse, did their comparison feel completely unrelated to what you were experiencing, leaving you feeling unheard and invalidated? Now, magnify this dynamic in the context of racial justice, gender identity, ableism, or any other marginalized identity. In these cases, the impact of such comparisons can be profound and silencing, perpetuating a cycle of misunderstanding and erasure.

The Intersection of Privilege and Comparison

Let’s address the elephant in the room: privilege. As white women, many of us have been conditioned to navigate conversations from a place of inherited cultural norms. This doesn’t make us bad people, but it does mean we have work to do.

Historically, this tendency has roots in colonial and Western cultural frameworks that prioritized individual perspectives and dominance over communal or marginalized narratives. For instance, during the colonial era, European powers often imposed their own cultural standards and values onto colonized populations, equating unfamiliar practices with inferiority. This created a legacy where white perspectives were elevated as the "default," a dynamic that still echoes in how conversations unfold today. Privilege often manifests in subtle ways—like centering our perspective in conversations or failing to recognize the full weight of someone else’s experience. By acknowledging this, we can begin to unlearn these habits and show up with more humility.

The Harm of Comparisons in Justice Movements

Comparisons in the context of justice movements—whether racial, gender, or otherwise—are particularly damaging. When we equate our experiences to those of marginalized communities, we risk minimizing their struggles. For example, comparing the challenges of being a woman to the systemic oppression faced by people of color may feel relatable, but it often divides the collective goal of equality for everyone.

As Mikki Kendall highlights in Hood Feminism, these kinds of comparisons can pit movements against each other, prioritizing some struggles while sidelining others. This "oppression Olympics" not only fractures solidarity but also delays progress by fostering competition instead of collaboration. As Karen wisely pointed out during our podcast, “We’ve lived in such a privileged space that I don’t even think we notice.” This unawareness isn’t inherently malicious, but it’s our responsibility to address it. True empathy means stepping back, listening fully, and resisting the urge to center ourselves.

To truly support justice movements, we must recognize that all forms of oppression are interconnected. Comparing one struggle to another overlooks the unique contexts and histories that shape each experience. Instead, we should focus on amplifying marginalized voices and working together toward shared goals.

A Better Way Forward

So, what can we do instead? Here are three actionable steps we discussed in Episode 8:

1. Practice Intentional Listening

The next time someone shares their story, pause. Resist the urge to interject with your own experience. Instead, focus on fully hearing their words.

2. Examine Your Language

Before making a comparison or analogy, ask yourself: Does this validate or diminish the other person’s experience? If you’re unsure, it’s often better to refrain.

3. Acknowledge Privilege and Bias

Take time to reflect on how your privilege influences your communication habits. Journaling about recent conversations can help identify patterns and areas for growth.

A Personal Reflection

I’ll admit, I’ve fallen into the comparison trap more times than I’d like to count. But what I’ve learned through these conversations with Karen and our podcast audience is this: growth is possible. It’s humbling, often uncomfortable, but always worthwhile.

Closing Thoughts

As white women committed to waking up, we have an opportunity—and a responsibility—to engage more thoughtfully. By stepping away from comparisons and leaning into intentional listening, we can create spaces where all voices feel heard and valued.

So, I challenge you: the next time you feel the urge to compare, pause. Reflect. Ask yourself if your words are serving the conversation or centering your own perspective. It’s a small but powerful step toward meaningful connection and justice.

Let’s keep growing together. Until next time, stay curious, be open, and keep waking up.

-Jonelle