About the Author: Luc Bernard is a French Jewish video game creator and director. Known for his game The Light in the Darkness, which has received rave reviews across the globe, Luc is changing the way people view video games and Jewish history. The Light in the Darkness tells a moving story of a fictional family of Polish Jews caught up in the Holocaust in France.
In an era where social media algorithms reward rage and division, our society is fracturing at an alarming rate. Platforms designed to connect us have instead become battlegrounds, pitting groups against one another and often descending into outright racism and bigotry. The most inflammatory posts rise to the top, garnering likes, shares, and attention that drown out nuance and humanity. This isn’t just a digital problem, it’s a societal one, eroding trust and amplifying echo chambers where empathy goes to die.
Demonizing entire groups or launching attacks rarely changes hearts or minds. It only pushes people further into their corners.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: demonizing entire groups or launching attacks rarely changes hearts or minds. It only pushes people further into their corners, entrenching divisions. Instead, we must choose a different path, one rooted in empathy and shared humanity. Rather than accusing or alienating, we should amplify the voices of peacemakers and seek common ground. After all, the tactics we decry when used against us, blanket generalizations, vilification, should never become our own weapons. Hypocrisy only perpetuates the cycle.
I learned this lesson firsthand through my work as a game director. In 2023, I released The Light in the Darkness, the world’s first story-based video game about the Holocaust. To date, over 2 million players worldwide have completed it, immersing themselves in an emotional narrative of loss during one of history’s darkest chapters. Surprisingly, one of our largest audiences has been in the Arab world, including Saudi Arabia. Rather than confronting these communities with accusations of antisemitism or Holocaust denial, I simply made the game available in their countries translated in Arabic. It told a human story, free of judgment, and it resonated deeply.
The response was profound. Players from regions often stereotyped as hostile sent messages of empathy and discovery. For many, it was their first real encounter with Jewish history and suffering. One particularly moving note came from a Yemeni citizen, who shared how the game opened their eyes to a shared human experience they had never considered. This wasn’t about confrontation; it was about connection. By approaching on a personal, emotional level, we bridged a gap that rhetoric alone could never close.
This wasn't about confrontation; it was about connection. By approaching on a personal, emotional level, we bridged a gap that rhetoric alone could never close.
Over the past year, I’ve applied this principle in even more challenging contexts. I’ve worked with families of hostages, bringing them into countries and spaces where one might least expect support, forums and communities often seen as adversarial. Time and again, these encounters were met not with hostility, but with genuine empathy. People who might otherwise remain indifferent or opposed stepped forward, advocating for reunions and recognizing the pain. These moments remind us that beneath the labels and ideologies, we’re all driven by the same fundamental desires: safety, love, and understanding. Of course, anger and hatred are seductive, they feel righteous in the moment. But they only breed more of the same, creating a vicious loop where disagreement turns into dehumanization. As humans, we’ll never agree on everything; that’s the beauty and burden of diversity. Yet if we lead with our shared humanity, finding that sliver of common ground, we can build from there. It’s not about erasing differences, but about refusing to let them define us entirely.
We're all driven by the same fundamental desires: safety, love, and understanding. Of course, anger and hatred are seductive, they feel righteous in the moment. But they only breed more of the same, creating a vicious loop where disagreement turns into dehumanization.
Skeptics might call this approach delusional, a naive dream in a world rife with conflict. And perhaps achieving a fully kinder world is an elusive goal. But striving for it isn’t futile; each act of empathy brings us incrementally closer. In the face of social media’s divisive machinery, let’s choose to be the architects of unity. Our future depends on it.
Publish date: October 6th
By: Luc Bernard
