For the foam rubber example, I wouldn't do it because I don't get kicks from doing pointless shit like that. It's not entertaining to see somebody upset.
Same way I rescue people from spiders. I'd rather not touch the things directly because a) I might hurt it, being a great clumping human thousands of times heavier and larger than the spider b) some can bite when they feel threatened and c) I'm a huge fan of social distancing from anything with more legs than I have - it's a normal human instinct. But a plastic cup and a bit of card saves the spider at least in the immediate aftermath, avoids unnecessary physical contact with it, stops the fucking screeching and people are usually happy that they've been rescued from the poor little thing minding its own business doing spidery things.
What use are people who take an emotional kick from watching others suffer? Seriously, when there is an overturned car full of sobbing teenagers who need to be reassured, got out of the vehicle and as far away from the vehicle as possible before that smell of petrol turns into something considerably hotter, what use are you standing there and saying 'Oh, my god, I can't watch (but still watching), it's all so awful, sob, sob, it must be terrifying'? Get the fuck out of my way and stop demanding attention both then and once I've fished the kids out where you're going on about how upset you are to see that happen and you need somebody to look after you as well. But I'm sure you feel good from the endorphins that come from crying and then somebody giving up their time to comforting you and being reassured that you're actually a better person than everybody else.
How are you helping somebody to make it about your feelings? You're not. You're using their suffering to claim attention for yourself, as you're all so very special and emotional and sensitive.
My mother left her cat to suffer horribly from a spinal injury for days until he died of a saddle thrombosis. She couldn't bear to take him to the vet, apparently, couldn't manage to dump the cage and walk away from a distressed, scared, crying animal for the vet to deal with. So she left him in fucking agony instead because her emotions and being seen as the sensitive animal lover like fuck was more important than doing what was right for the poor bastard animal. I've stayed with my animals every single time because when they need to be put to sleep, my feelings don't matter - they need at least some familiarity, somebody they know and trust stroking them as they hopefully slip away gently.
And afterwards, yeah, I cry. Proper ugly sobs. The cat's fine, they're not in pain anymore they're either in Cat Heaven or not, depending upon any belief in metaphysics or supernatural dimensions. So I'm crying for me not having my cat anymore.
When I was waiting outside beforehand and a little girl asked me 'Why is your cat laying down?', I don't make it all about me or upset her, I replied that she was very old and very tired, so she was having a little sleep before we saw the vet for some medicine. OK, when I came out and the little girl's Mum instantly gave me a hug, I really appreciated it even though it nearly set me off again. She didn't go all sobby and distressed because my cat was dead. She was genuinely being caring and doing something useful/kind. That's not fucking entertainment for the masses, even if it would have made perfect TV for a Wednesday evening for others to get all emotional and talk about how they felt so sad and they're such empathetic souls. After all, everybody loved watching Rolf Harris when he got all teary at dead cats, didn't they? Such a kind man, so empathetic. So fucking manipulative.