Empathy Volleyball is a Losing Game

Empathy is a value. Not a conditional reward waiting in the queue.

Source: Canva

“That police officer with documented racist views killed an unarmed black person—and I see myself, my friends, and neighbors in that man. It makes me feel extremely depressed.”

“Well, sorry you feel that way, but what about black on black crime?!”

“The details of her sexual assault really triggered my own.”

“But what about all the women who lie?!”

“Hate crimes against gay and trans people are on the rise. It really makes me feel unsafe—and I worry about my friends and family, too.”

“But what about these other crimes?!”

These are just a few of the greatest hits of "whataboutism.”’ which is essentially the Uno reverse card for empathy. And when we constantly play that reverse card, empathy becomes a ball tapped back and forth between two people.

Empathy volleyball is exhausting. And nobody wins. 

The Oxford Dictionary definition of empathy is: “the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.”

Now, in practice, of course, empathy can show up in many ways. 

It’s not always easy to demonstrate that you have an understanding of how someone feels through experience or comprehension. There is no perfect way to do this; although, there are some tips.

However, one surefire way to lose someone’s perception of your true empathy is to begin with: “what about me?”

Because empathy, by nature, is about you taking a moment to pause, and at least attempt to internalize feelings that are not your own. An attempt to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, or consider how/why they might feel.

Any sentence that begins with “what about” in response to someone disclosing their pain or vulnerability, is colloquially called “whataboutism.” As in, before someone’s feelings or the situation in question are even addressed you say: well what about (insert issue, opinion, or experience here).” This is the antithesis of empathy.

Empathy is about forgoing your own thoughts and feelings, for a moment at least, to try to feel as the other person or group feels. ‘Whataboutism’ is about you and the issue or experience you care about. It’s telling the person they must wear your shoes before you wear theirs. It’s like an Uno reverse card—but for empathizing with humanity. 

We are seeing this dynamic frequently during conversations about violence in the Middle East. But just as we should focus on green flags as much as red ones, we need more examples of what an empathetic response could look like:

An empathetic response to someone’s fear and pain might be:

“Yes, I can only imagine how I would feel not knowing when I would see my family again, having a child taken from me, seeing family killed, or not being able to find them amongst rubble and mass destruction.”

Or,

“The magnitude of loss is so grave. 15,000 people, families, nearly half kids with futures cut short. Entire bloodlines erased. I feel like Palestinians are truly being dehumanized right now.”

Or, say you “don’t know what to say.” Because we don’t need to know what to say. If a person is being affected by mass killings, especially of their ethnicity, an empathetic response can just be: “I’m sorry that we live in a world like this. I’m here for you.”

If you’ve ever caught yourself responding with “what about”, you may not realize it, but you’re being dismissive of someone’s human reaction—which we all have a right to have. 

You may have legitimate points, sound policy, and historical arguments. But logic won’t bring understanding when emotions are high and people are in crisis. We have to make room for understanding first. There are necessary times to discuss policy, but not everything is a policy conversation. Humans are not robots. We’re allowed to emote on the loss of humanity without drawing up an immediate policy solution, response, condemnation, etc.

Of course, I am talking about interpersonal dynamics here. There is no question that, regarding the example of Israel and Palestine, while all humanity is equal, this is a significantly disproportionate ‘conflict,’ where one side has exponentially more weapons, funding, and has killed thousands more civilians with its own government and military voicing genocidal intent. 

But at its core, our interactions are human—and states are not human.

Regardless of the subject, volleying for points instead of listening for empathy leads to a game, not a discussion.