Highly Insensitive People

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Illustration of insensitive person

At our first session, John described himself as “insensitive.” In his 60s, divorced and on the cusp of retirement, he’d realized this for a long time, but its impacts on his life were becoming more onerous. 

“In terms of feelings, I don’t connect much with people. At work, they’re like pieces on a chessboard that I maneuver to get the job done. I’m not mean about it, just kind of emotionally flat. My ex-wife says I have a heart of stone. Even my adult kids tell me I’m not approachable about feelings,” he explained.

We tend to regard insensitive people as mean-spirited, and some are, but John was not a sociopath or a narcissist. He didn’t set out to offend others, although his insensitivity sometimes did. Nor was he “on the spectrum,” as those with a flatlined affect often get labeled. Basically, he exhibited what we shrinks call “emotional muting.” Whatever feelings John experienced, he kept lukewarm, rather than hot or cold.

Folks like this are the opposite of highly sensitive people (HSP), the roughly 20 percent of us who are emotionally thin skinned. HSPs are empathic, feel deeply and are often sentimental, attributes that can be both a curse and a blessing. In contrast, highly insensitive people (HIP) are largely unmoved by those things that touch their more sensitive counterparts—such as joyful moments, loss, awe and wonder, suffering, altruism and so on.

Lack of Feeling

Sometimes we confuse insensitive people like John with folks who use their apparent indifference as armor, protecting their softer and emotional inner self. My father was of this psychological ilk. He maintained a reserved, emotionally non-reactive countenance most of the time, but occasionally some event (wedding, funeral, birth, etc.) would pierce his mental shield, leaving him emotional and briefly vulnerable. The first time I saw him cry was at my wedding.

In contrast, those like John don’t identify much with other people’s joys and sorrows. As he put it, “I can recognize how things affect others, but I don’t feel how things affect them.” The traditional psychological theory about insensitive people proposes that, underneath all that “I could’t care less” exterior there resides a vulnerable self, a sort of frightened inner child. The idea is that such a person’s chilly, impassive demeanor is simply a defense mechanism. However, my experience with these folks suggests there is no exterior “armor” that, once peeled back, reveals a soft inner core of sensitivity. Instead, it appears to be armor all the way down.  

“Being emotionally untouchable affords you a certain power and protection,” I told John. “The world doesn’t affect you all that much, for good or ill. There is more control and safety in being indifferent and unmoved.”

The origins of insensitivity are elusive. While some folks with a history of trauma or emotional deprivation end up with a hardened heart, others emerge from these same adversities with great empathy for others. What's more, certain individuals raised in a loving environment still end up callous or emotionally apathetic.  

“I suspect I’ve missed out on a lot in life, but I don't know how to be any different.  This is me. But lately, I’ve felt bad about it, which isn’t like me,” John concluded.         

Living on the muted end of the sensitivity continuum made John’s world quieter and less emotionally painful than that of a sensitive person, but it also left him lonelier and bereft of verve and peak experiences. As he approached elder status, these “what might have been” losses became more apparent and disappointing. John was feeling not the loss of something he’d had, but of something he’d never had. 

“It’s called regret, John,” I told him. “It’s not a pleasant feeling, but it is a feeling, and it requires a certain degree of sensitivity. Maybe something is waking up inside you.”

Emotional sensitivity gives spice to life. Sometimes it burns, other times it delights. Highly insensitive people fend off the pain, but they also forfeit the joy.

For more, visit philipchard.com.