A few days ago, I texted a friend, “I’m not doing great.” It wasn’t a dramatic confession. It was just the kind of message you send when you want to be seen but don’t know how to ask for help. They replied with a single sad-face emoji.
That was it.
I stared at the screen for a few seconds, unsure of how to feel. I wasn’t angry, and I didn’t feel let down. I just felt like I’d opened a door expecting someone to step inside, and instead, I got a sticker of a cartoon face to convey sympathy but with no words to anchor it.
This situation made me wonder: are we becoming less empathetic, or just less practiced at showing it? This question wasn’t just personal. It’s societal.
Research from the University of Michigan found that American college students today show 40% less empathy than those from just 20-30 years ago. This steep decline began around the year 2000. Experts have placed blame on a number of factors like our increasingly individualistic culture, the rise of digital media, and the general busyness and burnout of modern life. In other words, we’re so caught up in our own fast-moving lives that we miss the emotional lives of others.
I don’t think my friend meant any harm with their text. Like most of us, they’re probably just used to multitasking conversations, responding in shorthand, and assuming that emojis are enough. But when you’re on the receiving end of one, especially when you’re feeling vulnerable, it feels like silence disguised as a reply.
Empathy takes time. Not just clock time, but mental space. It requires us to slow down, to listen carefully, and to imagine what someone else is feeling. It’s the opposite of a reflex.
Modern life is not built for that; notifications interrupt us constantly, our attention is split between tabs, tasks, and timelines, and conversations happen in fragments between meetings or classes. When someone shares something heavy, we often don’t know how to hold it. We send an emoji and hope it lands softly.
The truth is, this kind of shorthand communication can chip away at emotional closeness. It’s like trying to water a plant by misting it once and calling it good. Some feelings need more than a symbol. They need words. Presence. Real effort.
Part of the reason empathy feels harder these days is that we’re bombarded with emotional content all day, every day. Social media exposes us to hundreds of emotional cues from war updates to breakup reels to pet videos. We’re asked to care about everything all at once.
This constant exposure creates what is called compassion fatigue. The more suffering we see, the less capacity we have to respond to it. We scroll past a crying stranger’s story not because we’re heartless, but because we’re emotionally overloaded. And, when someone close to us reaches out, like I did to my friend, they’re entering a space that’s already crowded. Their pain might land in a mind that’s exhausted, distracted, or simply too full to hold it with the care it deserves.
Another reason why empathy can feel distant is that we often perform it rather than practice it. Social media teaches us how to react publicly from likes, comments, and story shares, but not necessarily how to respond personally.
We learn the right phrases like “sending love,” or “this is heartbreaking,” but when those phrases become the default, they risk sounding like auto responses instead of real support. They’re good instincts, but without genuine follow-up, they become performative gestures that fade as quickly as they’re posted.
In that context, even my friend’s sad-face emoji might’ve been a learned behavior to signal an “I see you” without demanding the vulnerability or time of a real response.
So, is empathy actually dying?
I don’t think so. It’s changing… and struggling.
Empathy hasn’t disappeared, but it’s being reshaped by the tools we use and the speed at which we live. It’s competing with distraction, disconnection, and the awkwardness of emotional expression in a digital world.
“Empathy hasn’t disappeared, but it’s being reshaped by the tools we use and the speed at which we live.”
Still, I don’t believe people are less capable of empathy. If anything, I think we’re craving it more than ever. I’ve seen it in quiet ways like when someone remembers a detail you forgot you shared or when they offer an unexpected “how are you really?” Those moments feel rare now, but maybe that’s why they matter more.
Contrary to popular opinion, I believe empathy is more of a skill than a feeling. The current world might erode our reflexes of understanding another person’s perspective or feeling what others feel, but it can also challenge us to grow them back intentionally.
For me, that means not assuming a sad-face emoji is all someone can give. Because, most of the time, that isn’t the case. They probably just don’t know what to say. My friend, for instance, sent me a lengthy “idk what else to send other than a sad face im very sorry nothing is coming to mind” text after their initial “ :( ” message.
Empathy today might look different than it used to, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone. We just have to adapt. Rather than a text, send a voice memo. Set aside time to really check in, not just react. Be a little more patient with people who are learning how to express themselves. Most of all though, empathy now means choosing presence in a world full of distractions. It means realizing that even small gestures, when they’re honest, can matter more than perfectly phrased ones.
I’ve thought a lot about that moment of me, on my phone, reading a sad-face emoji when I really needed to feel seen by someone. It was one text, but it made me realize how fragile empathy is. It’s something we all want to receive, but sometimes forget to give.
So empathy isn’t in decline. Maybe it’s just tired, underused, and undervalued. But it’s still there, waiting.
And maybe part of our job as humans in this time and space is to bring it back in the everyday ways we show up for each other. Through unexpected “just thinking of you” messages and “do you want to talk about it?” texts, conversations may take longer, but they go deeper.
In the end, we don’t need more scripted expressions. We need more connection, even if it’s just an “I don’t know exactly what to say, but I’m here.”