Empathy Is Resistance, Compassion Is Revolution

The Death of Empathy

There was a time when we could disagree and still hold space for each other’s humanity. A time when conversations could be passionate, yet civil. A time when, even in the midst of our differences, we could recognize the heart in another person. But today, we are witnessing the erosion of something sacred—our ability to see, to feel, and to stand in the shoes of another. And when empathy disappears, the most vulnerable among us pay the highest price.

The slow unraveling of empathy is not accidental. It is a result of a culture increasingly driven by fear, by power, by the need to win rather than the desire to understand. We have replaced thoughtful discourse with weaponized rhetoric. We have confused cruelty with strength. We have allowed ourselves to believe that caring for others is somehow a weakness, that kindness makes us naïve, that compassion is a luxury we cannot afford.

Power Over People

And the cost? It is measured in the lives of those already pushed to the margins. LGBTQ+ youth, who hear the words of politicians and preachers telling them they are not enough. Immigrants, who seek nothing more than safety but are met with scorn. Women, who are told that their bodily autonomy is secondary to someone else’s sense of morality. The poor, the sick, the disabled—all of whom are being drowned out by a society that values power over people.

We have forgotten that empathy is not a finite resource. It is not something we must ration out in teaspoons, afraid of giving too much. Empathy multiplies. It bridges divides. It allows us to see beyond our own experience and acknowledge the dignity in another. When we shut it down—when we choose apathy over action, silence over solidarity—we are complicit in the suffering of others.

Fighting To Be Seen

Civil discourse is not simply about being polite. It is about recognizing that each of us is carrying a story we do not fully understand. It is about refusing to demonize those who are different from us. It is about remembering that, at the core of every debate, every protest, every struggle for justice, there are real human beings fighting to be seen, to be heard, to be safe.

So, what do we do? We refuse to accept a world devoid of compassion. We reject the notion that kindness is weakness. We call out dehumanization wherever we see it, whether it’s in our families, our churches, our workplaces, or our governments. We listen. We speak up. We stand beside those whose voices are drowned out.

If we do not fight for empathy, if we do not defend compassion, then what are we left with? A society where the powerful dictate worth, where cruelty goes unchecked, where the most vulnerable are cast aside without a second thought. But that is not who we are meant to be. That is not who we must become.

Empathy is resistance. Compassion is revolution. And we are called to both.