Rejecting Selective Empathy

In a recent Substack post, I talked about Charlie Kirk’s death through the lens of selective empathy. I disagreed with Charlie on a fundamental level, but I also believe all gun violence—including this instance—is wrong. Because he was a political figure, his death received immeasurable attention from the media. And yet, the victims of the 387 other mass shootings in 2025 are not treated with the same level of importance because they don’t serve the same political purpose.

This willingness to memorialize those with power while forgetting those without points to the need to reject selective empathy. In this post, we’ll explore questions and prompts to deepen awareness about our selective empathy so we can instead begin to embody inclusive empathy and stand against violence and injustice for all people.

If these tragic events happened to someone of another political party, religion, or background, would I have the same reaction? Would I be naturally inclined to be less saddened or outraged? If so, why?

We tend to care when harm comes to people like us, and we also tend to be less outraged about injustice for people who are different—the poor and marginalized, the immigrant, the people of a different political affiliation, the individuals who practice a different religion. As we grow in empathy, it’s good to be aware of these discrepancies and consider how we can extend the same level of care to all people—rather than only to those for whom we feel a sense of similarity. 

What voices (religious or political figures, institutions, friends, family members, etc.) are telling me which events to care about? What events are they leaving out (or telling me not to care about)?

Democratic congresswoman Melissa Hortman and her family were assassinated over the summer in an act of politically fueled violence. Because her political affiliation differed from the current administration’s agenda, her murder did not receive nearly the amount of media attention or empathy as the death of a political podcaster who promoted the current administration. This murder was not less of a tragedy; it just didn’t serve the same political purpose. And so, the common narrative told us to have less empathy. 

Who stands to benefit from my selective empathy?

In identifying what voices are telling us which tragedies to care about, it’s also important to consider what those voices stand to gain. Whether it’s money, power, or influence, there’s often a benefit when institutions or people in power tell the masses where to focus our empathy. 

Am I tempted to care less about certain people or tragedies? If so, how might that be an invitation to grow?

It can be challenging to acknowledge our own selective empathy—to see the areas in which our care has been selective—especially as people seeking to embody the love of Jesus. But it’s only in becoming aware of these gaps in empathy that we can intentionally begin to grow in love and care for all people.