Dear Kind Ones,

Empathy is the capacity to feel into the experience of another, from the Greek word ἐμπάθεια, literally “to suffer into (pathos as in pathology),” usually translated as malevolence or hatred. The word as we use it worked its way into English via its use in German esthetics where empathy (einfühlung) regarded the capacity of an artist to “feel into” their work. The term jumped from the arts to social sciences at the beginning of the 20th century as psychologist Edward Titchener used empathy as a translation of the German. But in the translation, the sense of dread or hatred was dropped. Empathy was no longer a negative term, but a positive force for one’s capacity to mirror the feelings of others.

The Google Books Ngram for empathy demonstrates an astounding increase in the word's usage since the beginning of this century, as can be seen here. Having languished in the technical writings of psychology for nearly a century, empathy seems to be experiencing an explosion of references. Over the past several years I’ve been musing about why empathy has become so popular and whether that is a good thing.

Of course, the capacity to experience what another is feeling is not bad; it’s a major component in emotional intelligence. But the genuine experience of another’s position or condition is, in the end, an illusion; we do not all walk in another’s moccasins. Still, empathy is projected as both a good and desired trait. “I feel your pain” is a phrase credited with the winning of a presidential election. But conveying a resonance with another’s experience can be manipulative.

Historically, marketing relied not on empathy but envy. “Wow, the people in that commercial seem really happy—I’ve got to have what they’ve got!” was the underlying goal of an advertiser’s campaign. But with the amazing capacity of targeted marketing made possible by our social media profiles, ads have moved from envy stimulation to empathy connection: “Wow, I could really see myself having that product.” I no longer merely desire whatever is being pushed; I now exist vicariously as someone who will have that product. It’s no longer aspirational; it’s inevitable. Combine that force with one-click purchasing and boom, I am that guy in the commercial. But of course, I’m not. Fortunately, before I close my browser tab there’s another product in my feed promising me certain euphoria if I only click my way to happiness. (People who bought this thing, also bought this thing.)

The same can be said of fundraising. Appeals that begin with words like “imagine” or “what would happen to you if” or “families just like yours” appeal to substitutionary emotion. These unfortunate people are just like you, so send us money to help you. Empathy invites you to contribute so you stop feeling so bad looking at images of tragedy. The focus is no longer on improving another’s life—that would be compassion. The focus is on improving your own self-esteem, the wonders of empathy.

The rise of empathy’s use corresponds with a rise in empathy’s experience. The maps we use no longer require the discovery of reference points as we work to find ourselves at that little dot reading, “You are here”; we simply open our screens, and there we are! In the center of everything, it’s no longer apparent how your center and my center could be miles apart. My here may be vastly distant from your here, but the wonders of empathy let me “know how you feel.” Obviously, I don’t, but that really doesn’t matter. What matters to my empathic self is how to make me feel better, and somehow, I am deluded into believing I’m a helpful person.

I’ve started this series on attentive response in the middle. In the weeks ahead I want to branch out to four other forms of our disposition to the needs and conditions of others. In order, starting from the least attentive working towards the greatest, my categories are indifference, pity, empathy, sympathy and compassion. I believe each of these has its place in a Christianly response to the world around us, but I’ll pause here before moving ahead, remaining,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor