In a world that feels sharper and more self-centered than ever, empathy seems to be disappearing, especially online. Political turbulence, social media culture, and a growing focus on self-preservation have created an environment where kindness is scarce, and disagreement feels like a battle. I explore how this leads to nonproductive arguing, and why practicing empathy, even in small ways, is more important than ever.
I can’t be the only one who’s noticed that the world feels a little meaner now than it did four or five years ago. Scrolling through the comment section of any news article feels like entering a battlefield of opposing opinions and people trying to one-up each other with the harshest take — a place where empathy rarely survives. Anyone who’s as chronically online as me has probably noticed how contrasting this feels compared to the online climate of 2020, when there seemed to be more openness and tolerance. Now, everyone feels more narcissistic, and it makes me wonder: What happened to empathy? Especially among young people?
I’ve realized this shift seems to have grown alongside the decline of “wokeness.” Originally, wokeness simply meant being aware of social issues and showing empathy toward those who are less privileged. But somewhere along the way, the term lost its meaning. Now, it’s often used as an insult, twisted into a symbol of self-righteousness disguised as enlightenment. What used to represent awareness has turned into moral competition. Disagreements became battles, and the act of enraging others (“rage baiting”) became its own form of amusement.
And that makes me wonder about the “why.” What are the sociological or cultural factors behind this? Is it a response to political division, economic instability, or social media itself? Maybe it’s all of the above.
Dr. Sara Konrath, director of the Interdisciplinary Program on Empathy and Altruism at Indiana University, said in a podcast with the American Psychological Association that in times of political and economic uncertainty, people often develop an “everyone for themselves” mindset. Basically, when the world feels uncertain, we turn inward — focusing on self-preservation instead of understanding others, thus, narcissism.
I’ve felt that sense of self-protection, too. It’s not a selfishness rooted in arrogance but in caution: the constant awareness of how I might be perceived before I even speak. Sometimes I catch myself wondering: Will what I say affect how this person views me or my culture? Over time, I’ve realized that assuming someone already rejects me, or disagrees with my very existence, has become its own form of self-preservation. And that instinct breeds distance; it turns into aloofness, coldness. I hate the narcissism of the idea that someone is already thinking about me, judging me, forming opinions about me before I’ve even spoken. It’s made me become defensive, guarded, and smaller than I want to be.
And as much as I’d like to believe everyone’s growing narcissism comes from that same deeply rooted feeling of preservation, a lot of people are probably doing it for the fun of it: the attention, the engagement, the chaos. Which makes me miss when kindness wasn’t something you had to defend, when empathy wasn’t mistaken for weakness or naiveness.
I feel that empathy doesn’t mean agreeing with everyone or staying silent when something is wrong. To me it means remembering that people are complex and that there is more to them than a single opinion or mistake. The world doesn’t have to feel so sharp-edged all the time. It’s about asking yourself, can I still be empathetic even when I feel wronged or certain that I am right? It’s also about asking others to show empathy toward you when you feel misunderstood. Before jumping into another nonproductive online argument, it is worth pausing to think about the deeper issue and what will actually make a difference, instead of feeding into people’s desire to fight.
Maybe it’s time to slow down a little. Assume good intentions and act upon your own. Listen, even when it’s easier not to. We can’t control how the world treats us, but we can choose to make it a little more empathetic, even if it’s one response at a time.