In the not too distant past “empathy” was a rather abstruse technical term used only by philosophers and psychologists, but this is certainly not the case today. Far from it, the word seems to be on everybody’s lips. Politicians, clerics, “influencers,” journalists and many others now take it for granted that unless you can be “empathetic” and fully inhabit another’s mind, you barely deserve to be called human. Being merely “sympathetic,” which apparently implies keeping one’s distance, is not enough. To become a truly decent person, you have to go the whole hog and, if only for a short while, become someone else.
A few days ago, the archbishop of Buenos Aires, Monsignor Jorge García Cuerva, roundly berated President Javier Milei for his failure to empathise with people who, in these austere times, are unable to pay all their debts. It was his way of telling the world that the libertarian was a heartless fellow and therefore unfit to rule. Similar charges are regularly made by woke militants against anyone who does not see things their way. In reply, the targets of their reproaches accuse them and their progressive allies of trying to occupy the moral high ground and shame others into obeying their diktats by “virtue-signalling.”
The belief that what the world really needs in order to become a better and more peaceful place for its inhabitants is much more empathy has a history that stretches back well over 2,000 years. It returns to fashion when once supposedly permanent political arrangements start breaking down and people, whether out of bewilderment or a desire to make the most of the looming chaos, begin going at one another’s throats. To counter this, well-meaning adherents to a variety of religious cults or philosophic traditions set about preaching, in much the same words, the need for more brotherly love. As subsequent events have made unpleasantly clear for many centuries, their efforts rarely affect people’s behaviour.
Today, there are many who tell themselves that, when all is said or done, feelings matter far more than anything else. This is why they set such store on what they call “lived experience.” In some once respected academic institutions, the reluctance to hurt anyone’s feelings has led to the inclusion of creation myths alongside what are considered to be scientific explanations of the origin of the universe and our place in it. Though the “intelligent-design” hypothesis continues to be resisted, it is not because it seems even more far-fetched than the tales told by “first nation” tribal elders but because, in the eyes of people who are determined to “decolonise” university curricula, it is far too Western and Christian.
The widespread desire to put feelings first has had a marked effect on the media. When reporters from big news organisations such as the BBC are sent to a disaster area, they immediately collar distraught survivors who have just had their homes burn down in a forest fire or seen close relatives die in an earthquake, and ask them to say what they are feeling so viewers can share their grief. Much the same is happening right now as a result of the premature death of Lionel Messi’s father. The world’s best-known footballer’s personal reaction to his family’s loss and the messages of condolence he has received from celebrities, have been front-page news for several days, with many self-congratulatory allusions to the outpouring of public empathy and the like. Is there something a bit ghoulish about this massive intrusion into Messi’s private life? If there is, few find it disturbing. These days, feelings are there to be shared by all.
Perhaps modern society has become too complicated and too demanding for people to bear and that is why the collectivist urge, the desire to lose oneself in a crowd and think ill of those who are reluctant to do so, is getting stronger. As was bound to happen, this tendency is being encouraged by people of an authoritarian bent who are doing their best to enforce conformity. They have become especially numerous in prestigious universities and other high-ranking institutions in which groupthink is now de rigueur and dissidents who show no interest in becoming cells in the hive mind can expect to be cancelled.
The ongoing drive to subordinate just about everything else to empathy has already had far-reaching geopolitical consequences. The inability of European governments to put a lid on immigration from other parts of the world is almost entirely due to the opposition to measures designed to control it of people who are determined to see things from the point of view of those allegedly fleeing persecution or economic hardship. Taking advantage of treaties that were signed in very different circumstances just after World War II, progressive lawyers regularly block attempts to send back home even convicted rapists and other criminals. As a result, Europe has acquired an unwanted population that numbers many millions whose presence made inevitable the rise of “ultra right-wing” movements that want to kick them all out. According to the Lebanese-born Canadian academic Gad Saad, “suicidal empathy” is fast turning much of the West into a large-scale version of his country of origin which was once fairly prosperous but is now in ruins.
Another achievement that can be attributed to excessive empathy is the overburdening of Europe with unaffordable welfare provisions. To pay for them, France and other countries have piled up debts so huge that servicing them takes more money than is available for anything else. Just how all this will end is an open question, but more and more people fear that, before too long, the house of cards built on feelings in which they live will come crashing down to earth. To make the situation worse, several months ago Europe’s governments belatedly recognised that, without help from the United States, their now skeletal armed forces would be unable to defend their countries against a serious outside enemy. Though most have promised to increase military spending, they are uncomfortably aware that finding the money needed will be anything but easy.
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