From: fedora@fea.st   
      
   NY Times,   
      
   February 19, 2026   
      
   The idea that compassion is toxic has damaged us   
   By David French   
      
   There’s a scene from a movie I can’t get out of my head.   
   It’s from a 2021 film called “Don’t Look Up,” not my idea of a   
   cinematic classic. It’s a dark comedy about the end of the world, an   
   allegory intended to skewer those who are in denial about climate   
   change, but in this film people are in denial about a comet that’s   
   about to hit the earth.   
      
   The movie is equal parts funny and preachy, but the ending is   
   poignant. The main characters of the film are gathered around a dinner   
   table, eating one last meal as they face the end. They’re trying to   
   have a casual conversation as the table starts to rattle.   
   In that moment — as we watch images of the beauty of earth flashing in   
   front of us — the character played by Leonardo DiCaprio interrupts the   
   small talk with these words:   
      
   “The thing of it is, we really did have everything, didn’t we?”   
      
   I don’t want to compare the second Trump term to a comet hitting the   
   earth (or maybe I do), but it is absolutely true that we often can’t   
   grasp what we had until we no longer have it. Tragedy and loss adjust   
   our frame, and the disputes and arguments that once seemed so urgent   
   can pale in comparison to new and terrible realities.   
      
   Now let’s talk about empathy.   
      
   A year ago this month, I wrote a newsletter warning about a new trend   
   on the MAGA Christian right. Christian theologians and influencers had   
   begun warning about the “sin of empathy” or “toxic empathy.”   
   In books, essays, podcasts and speeches, prominent Christian   
   influencers, ministers and theologians sounded the alarm that secular   
   progressives were leading Christians astray by appealing to their   
   emotions at the expense of their reason.   
      
   The steel man version of their case goes like this:   
   Progressives have turned Christians’ soft hearts against hard truths.   
   Progressives have persuaded all too many Christians that the suffering   
   of, say, undocumented immigrants or women facing unwanted pregnancies   
   should override their concerns about the economic and social costs of   
   large-scale immigration, or their compassion for victims of crimes   
   committed by immigrants, or their concerns about the plight of the   
   unborn child.   
      
   Sometimes, as the argument goes, you have to do tough, hard things.   
   That means mass deportation. That means cutting off aid to the poor   
   and vulnerable in the developing world. That means ending gay marriage   
   even if it breaks up families. And that means the strictest possible   
   pro-life laws, even when the life or physical health of the mother   
   might be at stake, or sending mothers to jail for aborting their   
   child.   
      
   And so, Christians, you have to steel yourselves to stand up for truth   
   and righteousness, and accept the condemnation of a world that will   
   call you cruel.   
      
   As with many bad ideas, the attack on empathy is rooted in something   
   real. Partisans tend to be terrible at showing the slightest empathy   
   for “them,” the people on the other side.   
      
   Immigration activists can be very good at highlighting the plight of   
   migrants, for example, while ignoring or paying little attention to   
   the costs of uncontrolled migration.   
      
   Pro-choice activists are very effective at highlighting the   
   difficulties facing pregnant women while downplaying the humanity of   
   the baby emerging in the womb.   
      
   During the pandemic, I was shocked at the lack of concern or outright   
   mockery in some quarters for the deaths of unvaccinated Americans.   
   The converse is true as well. Immigration restrictionists are very   
   good at highlighting the costs of mass migration — including the   
   victims of violence committed by immigrants — without demonstrating   
   much concern at all for the immigrants themselves.   
      
   And while many pro-life activists care deeply for mother and child,   
   that sentiment isn’t universal. A Republican candidate for governor in   
   Tennessee, for example, has let the world know that he’s open to the   
   idea of imposing the death penalty on women who get abortions.   
   Arguments about the Middle East are sometimes the worst of all — it   
   can be difficult to find anyone who prioritizes every life at stake in   
   the seemingly endless wars between Israel and its foes.   
   The problem in those cases isn’t with empathy, which is a vital human   
   virtue, but rather in its selective application. Just as we wouldn’t   
   call love a sin because we might be stingy in our love, empathy isn’t   
   a sin because its application is incomplete.   
      
   Or, put another way, our problem isn’t with too much empathy, but too   
   little. We’re unwilling to place ourselves in other people’s shoes, to   
   try to understand who they are and what their lives are like.   
   It’s hard to talk about this issue without recognizing a fundamental   
   truth of the moment: The attack on empathy would have gained very   
   little traction in the church if Donald Trump weren’t president. He   
   delights in vengeance, and he owes his presidency to the evangelical   
   church.   
      
   I’ve shared this statistic before, but if you look at 2024 exit   
   polling, you’ll see that Trump won white evangelical and born-again   
   voters by a 65-point margin, 82 percent to 17 percent. He lost   
   everyone else by 18 points, 58 percent to 40 percent.   
   Given the sharp differences between Trump and every other Republican   
   president of the modern era, in my experience evangelicals are   
   desperate to to rationalize their support for a man who gratuitously   
   and intentionally inflicts unnecessary suffering on his opponents.   
   And that’s exactly how empathy becomes a sin.   
      
   And because empathy is a sin, virtually any appeal to consider the   
   suffering of Trump’s opponents becomes yet more proof that Christians   
   are being manipulated, that their emotions are used against them.   
   Are you concerned about children who might die because we gratuitously   
   and needlessly cut billions of dollars of foreign aid? That’s toxic   
   empathy. Are you worried about the conditions in detention facilities   
   where migrants are held by the thousands? That’s more toxic empathy.   
   Are you shocked and appalled at ICE’s aggression in the streets? Well,   
   then, you’re losing your moorings. Mass deportation was always going   
   to be tough to watch. Stay strong. Don’t let empathy seep into your   
   soul.   
      
   But this problem extends well beyond public policy into the   
   fundamental cruelty and callousness of the culture of the new right.   
   It is no coincidence that the attack on empathy correlates with an   
   extraordinary rise in blatant racism, antisemitism and Islamophobia on   
   the right.   
      
   Empathy stands as a firewall against bigotry. But it’s more than that   
   — it can also free you from bigotry. Understanding another person’s   
   experience (and imagining if it happened to you) softens our hearts   
   and creates human connection.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)