how to design VR content that maximizes impact for “cold” audiences – perhaps by providing more background
narrative or interactive context for those who start with less knowledge.
Another important discussion point is the nature of empathy elicited and its ethical use. Many participants
expressed not only sadness (affective empathy) but also moral outrage and a desire to act. This touches on the
distinction between empathy (feeling with someone) and compassion or solidarity (feeling motivated to help).
VR creators often aim for the latter – converting empathy into action. Our qualitative data showed seeds of this
conversion: people talking about wanting to help, sharing the message, uniting against injustice. That is a positive
outcome and aligns with the goals of advocacy-oriented VR. Nonetheless, one must consider the sustainability
of such reactions. Research suggests that intense emotional experiences can have a short half-life; what matters
is if they lead to sustained engagement or policy changes (the classic problem of “empathy fatigue” or
slacktivism). We did not track participants longitudinally, so we can’t say how enduring the effects were. It’s
possible that without follow-up or avenues to act (e.g., donation links, campaign memberships), the empathy
spike could fade into a mere memory of a “moving experience.” This highlights a practical recommendation:
VR experiences used in activism or education should be part of a larger engagement strategy, offering users post-
experience resources or actions. In our case, since the exhibit was run by an NGO, they did provide pamphlets
and suggestions for how to support Palestinian aid efforts. That likely helped some participants channel their
emotions productively (some survey comments mentioned they signed up for a mailing list or donated on-site).
Future research could examine conversion rates – for example, do VR-inspired viewers volunteer or donate at
higher rates? Early evidence is promising (Robertson, 2015), but more data is needed for robust conclusions.
The dominance of the Hind Rajab story in participants’ feedback also raises a discussion about the importance
of narrative choice. The fact that one segment so overshadowed the others suggests that not all parts of an
immersive experience will leave an equal mark. For the curators of such experiences, this is a reminder that
packing a VR tour with too many segments or messages might dilute the overall impact – often one or two key
stories will carry the emotional weight. It might be beneficial to focus on developing those deeply and perhaps
simplifying or shortening less impactful portions. In our VR design, zones like the Bazaar or the Museum
provided context and variety, but arguably the emotional crescendo was what people walked away remembering.
An analogy can be made to filmmaking: a documentary might include many facts and scenes, but it’s the personal
interview or climax that stays with the audience. VR is no different in that respect. Our findings echo what
Hadjipanayi et al. (2024) concluded: empathy in VR is “shaped throughout the overall narrative experience,”
and moments (especially endings or resolutions) can greatly influence the take-home feeling (Hadjipanayi et. al,
2024). Interestingly, some research has debated whether happy or tragic endings yield more empathy. Our
experience had a somewhat hopeful final zone after the tragedy, attempting to end on a note of hope (rebuilding
Gaza). Yet participants largely fixated on the tragedy. This might imply that, at least in the short term, sorrow
and tragedy have a stronger emotional pull than hope in VR. It could also be that the hopeful part was too brief
or abstract to compete with the vivid personal story. For designers, this is a delicate balance: one doesn’t want
to traumatize the audience or leave them in despair (which could lead to inaction or distress), but one does want
to create a memorable emotional experience. A possible improvement could be to allow users more time to
process and resolve the emotions – maybe through an interactive debrief or a narrative catharsis – something to
consider in future iterations.
From a theoretical standpoint, our case reinforces the concept of VR enhancing presence and perspective-taking,
which are key mechanisms behind empathy. Many participants essentially described moments of presence
(feeling “there” in Gaza, feeling like it could be them). That psychological state likely facilitated the empathy
and understanding measured. The results are thus in harmony with embodied cognition theories: when people
experience even a proxy of someone’s life (seeing through their eyes in VR), they could undergo attitude shifts
like if they had real-life contact. This has big implications for peace education and conflict mediation. While VR
is not a panacea, it offers a scalable way to enable perspective-taking that might otherwise require direct,
potentially unfeasible contact between groups. For instance, it’s obviously difficult to bring large numbers of
Malaysians to Gaza or Gazans to Malaysia, but a VR simulation can bridge that gap virtually. According to the
United Nations Department of Political and Peacebuilding Affairs (2024) and various peacebuilding
organizations are already experimenting with such uses of VR. Our findings add evidence that these efforts are
on the right track, at least in terms of fostering empathy and awareness. A noteworthy point is that VR might
need to be tailored to different audiences: for a generally sympathetic audience (like our Malaysian participants),