The Contradictions Behind Claims That Empathy Is Dangerous

As unrest and violence have drawn national attention to immigration enforcement and public protest, a familiar argument has resurfaced in conservative Christian commentary: empathy, particularly toward immigrants and marginalized groups, is portrayed as dangerous or misleading. Yet a closer look at how this argument is deployed reveals a paradox. Those warning against empathy often rely on it themselves—just narrowly directed and tightly controlled.

The criticism has focused heavily on social media, especially on women expressing concern over stories of detained children or alleged abuses by immigration authorities. Conservative voices have framed these reactions as emotional manipulation rather than legitimate moral response, suggesting that compassion itself has become a political liability.

Selective Compassion, Not Its Absence

Despite the rhetoric, the issue is not a rejection of empathy altogether. Rather, it is an attempt to define who deserves compassion and who does not. Stories highlighting crimes committed by undocumented immigrants are frequently amplified to redirect public sympathy away from migrants and toward law enforcement. Emotional appeals are not abandoned; they are repurposed.

This approach suggests that empathy is acceptable when it reinforces authority, order and state power, but suspect when it challenges those structures. The problem, then, is not feeling deeply, but feeling for the “wrong” people.

Theology Filtered Through Power

Much of this debate is rooted in a theological framework often associated with Christian nationalism. Within this view, Christianity is treated less as a call to imitate Christ’s humility and more as a moral system meant to be enforced through law and government. Scripture is selectively interpreted to justify withholding compassion from groups perceived as threats to social order.

In this framework, believers are encouraged to see themselves as arbiters of moral judgment, deciding when mercy is appropriate and when punishment is righteous. Empathy becomes dangerous not because it is unbiblical, but because it disrupts hierarchies of power.

Gender at the Center of the Dispute

A recurring theme in anti-empathy rhetoric is distrust of women. Women are frequently described as overly emotional, easily manipulated and therefore unreliable moral actors. Their tendency to respond strongly to stories of suffering—particularly involving children—is framed as a weakness that must be restrained for the sake of doctrinal purity and social stability.

This suspicion extends beyond personal interactions into broader cultural critiques, where women’s voices online are blamed for undermining political resolve or moral clarity. Empathy, in this telling, becomes feminized and therefore discredited.

Arguments Detached From Reality

Critics of empathy often rely on exaggerated or hypothetical scenarios to make their case. These include extreme straw-man examples, fictional narratives or speculative situations that do not reflect how empathy functions in real life. Rather than engaging with actual data, lived experiences or systemic outcomes, the focus shifts to imagined abuses of compassion.

When real-world evidence contradicts these claims—such as data showing lower crime rates among immigrants—it is frequently ignored in favor of emotionally charged anecdotes that support a predetermined conclusion.

Power Over Mercy

At its core, the rejection of empathy aligns with a vision of faith centered on control rather than care. Calls to “crush,” “defeat” or “demoralize” opponents reveal an understanding of justice rooted in dominance, not restoration. In this worldview, the state becomes the primary instrument of moral order, and compassion is seen as an obstacle to authority.

Ironically, this approach depends heavily on emotional appeals—fear, anger, outrage—to mobilize supporters. Empathy is not eliminated; it is weaponized.

The Cost of Apathy

Even some critics of empathy acknowledge a deeper danger: apathy. To stop caring altogether would hollow out the moral witness of the church. Complete detachment from suffering undermines the very foundation of Christian ethics, which is rooted in love, mercy and engagement with human pain.

The real conflict, then, is not between empathy and truth, but between two visions of faith—one that prioritizes power and control, and another that insists compassion is not a weakness, but a moral necessity.

In the end, the debate over “toxic empathy” reveals less about empathy itself and more about who is allowed to matter.