The Empathy Paradox

It may be a bit unusual, but I want to start this week’s newsletter with a disclaimer about the story I’ve chosen to tell. It’s a story about public tragedy and my personal reaction to hearing the news.

I debated whether to use this story, knowing that these kinds of events can affect people in different ways and are often difficult to talk about. However, I also know that stories, when told with positive intent, can be powerful tools for creating change, which is one of my goals both broadly in life and specifically in writing this newsletter.

This story is not a political or social statement, nor is it a call to action on any particular issue. Rather, I hope it offers a perspective on how the harsh realities of the world, and the way we encounter them, may be impacting our ability to be empathetic.

---

“Have you been on social media today?” I ask my wife over the phone as she drives home from work, a routine ritual for us that helps us both process our days and plan for the evening.

She exhales. “I haven’t seen it yet, but everyone’s been talking about it. You didn’t watch the video, did you?”

“I did, almost by accident, and I wish I hadn’t. I literally just stumbled upon it.”

We sat in silence for a moment, both trying to process the day’s events — a public assassination and a school shooting. A few moments passed, and without realizing it, I changed the subject. “So what do you want for dinner?”

The conversation meandered from there, but we never revisited the events or our feelings about them. This evening, I find myself reflecting on that conversation with Joenelle, perplexed at how quickly I was able to move on from such horrendous news. I think about my reactions to other, similar tragedies.

Often, social media is the courier of that kind of news. I’ll be scrolling until a headline catches my eye. I exhale, shake my head in disbelief, and, though I’m ashamed to admit it, continue to scroll. What is wrong with me? Why don’t I feel anything? How is it possible to go from learning about a true tragedy to watching a video of baby pandas going down slides?

I feel guilty, remorseful, and, quite frankly, confused. In truth, I’m experiencing what psychologists call the empathy paradox, the idea that as we try to care broadly about everything, we become unable to care deeply about any one thing. My compassion hadn’t disappeared; it had just been spread so thin that it seemed invisible.

If you find yourself in a similar place — numbly scrolling past tragedies that once carried emotional weight — here are two ways to ensure your empathy energy is being used intentionally.

Curate Your Inputs

My friend Jennifer was constantly overwhelmed by the news she consumed, to the point that anxiety seemed to replace empathy. Her therapist recommended she streamline where she got her information. She unfollowed accounts, fine-tuned her algorithm, and deleted apps. In return, she lessened her worry and regained her ability to care.

Choose One Thing

The internet encourages us to care about everything, everywhere, all at once. Instead, choose one thing that truly resonates with you — a cause, a person, or a mission that matters deeply. Focusing our empathy on one thing doesn’t mean we don’t care about others; it just means we are investing our empathy instead of scattering it.

The world may seem like it has a million cracks, but we have to remember we can’t fill every one with our empathy. When we focus our empathy, we make it effective.

Fact

Our brains have limits. Neuroscientists say humans can only maintain deep emotional connection with about 150 people (known as Dunbar’s number).

Action

Pause before you scroll. When tragic news appears, take one slow breath before reacting. Awareness precedes empathy.

Question

What kinds of stories most easily capture your empathy, and which ones do you tend to ignore?

Quote

“Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.” – Desmond Tutu