The Empathy Engine: Why Theatre Matters in an Age of Outrage
Why do we need theatre when we have Twitter? This question, posed by a skeptic to playwright Colin Murphy, cuts to the heart of a modern dilemma. In an era where online platforms thrive on division and outrage, Murphy’s work offers a compelling counterpoint: theatre as an engine of empathy. Personally, I think this contrast is more than just a clever soundbite—it’s a profound observation about how we connect, understand, and feel in the 21st century.
The Politics of Empathy
What makes Murphy’s plays particularly fascinating is their ability to humanize political events. From the Irish bank guarantee to the 1916 Rising, he transforms headlines into intimate dramas. One thing that immediately stands out is his insistence on writing about real people, often still alive. This raises a deeper question: How do you balance historical accuracy with emotional truth? In my opinion, Murphy’s success lies in his willingness to walk the fine line between fact and fiction. He’s not just recounting events; he’s exploring the human cost of decisions made in smoke-filled rooms.
What many people don’t realize is that political theatre in Ireland has often been overshadowed by its English counterpart. Murphy himself draws parallels to David Hare, noting that Ireland’s aversion to the glamour of politics has stifled similar voices. If you take a step back and think about it, this reflects a broader cultural humility—or perhaps a post-colonial reluctance to mythologize power. Yet, Murphy’s work challenges this, proving that Irish politics can be as dramatic as any Shakespearean tragedy.
The Micro Moments That Shape History
A detail that I find especially interesting is Murphy’s shift toward micro-moments in his later plays. While his early works focused on macro events like the bank guarantee, his recent plays zoom in on smaller, more personal decisions. For instance, in Treaty, the drama hinges not on the treaty itself but on the internal crises of its characters. What this really suggests is that history isn’t just made by grand gestures—it’s shaped by the quiet, often agonizing choices of individuals.
This approach reminds me of how theatre itself works. It’s not about spectacle; it’s about connection. When you sit in a dark room with strangers, sharing the same story, something shifts. Personally, I think this is why Murphy’s pitch for theatre as an “engine of empathy” resonates so deeply. In a world where we’re constantly bombarded with outrage, theatre offers a rare space for collective reflection.
The Struggle of the Playwright
What this really highlights, though, is the precarious nature of being a playwright in Ireland. Murphy is candid about the challenges: the small reach, the financial instability, the constant need to juggle multiple projects. One thing that immediately stands out is his resilience. He supplements his theatre work with journalism, screenwriting, and even a stint as a political advisor. From my perspective, this isn’t just a survival strategy—it’s a testament to his passion for storytelling in all its forms.
But here’s the irony: while theatre may not pay the bills, it’s where Murphy’s voice is most distinct. His plays, like Miasma and The United States vs Ulysses, show a willingness to experiment and expand beyond Irish politics. What makes this particularly fascinating is his ability to maintain a consistent style while exploring new themes. If you take a step back and think about it, this is the mark of a true artist—someone who evolves without losing their essence.
Why Theatre Still Matters
In a recent interview, Murphy reflected on the purpose of theatre, calling it the “absolute opposite of the fragmentation and outrage fostered by online platforms.” Personally, I think this is the most compelling argument for theatre’s relevance today. In an age where algorithms reward division, theatre demands unity—not of opinion, but of experience. You bring a group of strangers together, turn off their devices, and invite them to feel something together.
What many people don’t realize is that this act of collective empathy is radical. It’s a reminder that we’re not just isolated individuals scrolling through feeds; we’re part of a shared human experience. From my perspective, this is why Murphy’s work feels so urgent. It’s not just about telling stories—it’s about reminding us how to listen.
Final Thoughts
Colin Murphy’s plays are more than historical dramas; they’re a call to reconnect. In a world that often feels like it’s falling apart, theatre offers a space to piece things back together—one story, one audience, one moment at a time. Personally, I think that’s something worth fighting for.
