What is so special about these 12 boys and their soccer coach that convinces millions of people around the world to follow their ordeal on their smartphones and televisions? Is it because we want to show solidarity with the parents and rescue workers in their fight against time and rain? We ask ourselves: Is it better to risk a dangerous rescue operation now, or wait until the monsoon season is over? But can the boys and their coach survive that long in the cave, even with appropriate provisions brought in from outside?
Up close and personal
Of course it's the pictures that make an impact on us. The photos and video clips taken by rescue workers give us the feeling of being close to what is happening. Who isn't touched by the boys' letters to their parents in which they express not only their love, but also what they wish for after they have been freed? One of the young footballers who has been sitting in the cave for two weeks with his coach wants to have a barbecue and told the world about it in his letter.
The innocence of these boys moves us. But it's more than just that.
Reporting on a catastrophe in real-time
Boys and girls cowering in the ruins of bombed-out houses are also innocent. Syrian refugees who have drowned in the Mediterranean because their parents sought a better life also couldn't do anything about their fate. The same can be said about children who are trained to become soldiers by murderous militias and do not understand what is happening to them.
Some say that a certain amount of voyeurism fuels the global attention surrounding ordeals like this. Thanks to the modern media and a throng of reporters from every corner of the world, we can follow the boys' fight for survival as if we were there. Real-time reporting on catastrophes surely does serve these types of low-level instincts.
But it doesn't suffice as an explanation.
No place for cynicism
The simple fact is that we only want there to be winners in this type of fight. Situations like this leave no room for cynicism. No one can utter statements like "but we surely cannot accept every last one of them," such as are often heard in the European migration debate. Nobody claims that the parents are somehow themselves to blame for their children's misery when trying to flee across the Mediterranean because they are economic migrants rather than true asylum seekers.
In Thailand, the 12 boys face only one enemy: the water.
No one chooses their fate
This clarity explains why the whole world has congregated around this ordeal. It is a clarity that leaves no place for cynicism regarding who ultimately has more of a right to the good life.
My wish is that these anxious hours of hope, sympathy and attentiveness engender something that transcends the mere media show — that we are left with more than just a good feeling after a hopefully happy outcome, but a realization that in the end, it always comes down to individuals who have not chosen their own fate.