Selecting What and Who Deserves Empathy

In the age of social media, awareness has never been more accessible. Platforms allow users to instantly engage with global crises, amplify stories and express solidarity. Yet the same tools that expand awareness also reveal a stark imbalance in what and who receives collective empathy.

Selective empathy is a term increasingly used to describe a troubling social pattern consisting of individuals or groups reserving their compassion for certain issues while ignoring others that may be more urgent or systemic.

The next time you see a post about a war or an unfortunate event in your community or thousands of miles away, pause the instinct to simply “doom scroll.” Research the topic. Stay informed and inform others. Look into tangible ways you can help, whether through community organizing, donations, contacting representatives or campus involvement. 

Going to college is not just about learning inside a classroom; historically, some of the most transformative social movements and revolutions have taken root on college campuses. Awareness without action sustains the cycle; informed engagement disrupts it.

Selective empathy becomes evident when widespread engagement centers on viral moments while ongoing humanitarian crises receive comparatively little sustained attention. Conversations about agencies such as U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or about violence and displacement in the State of Palestine and Sudan, often struggle to maintain long-term public outrage. Meanwhile, a viral story can dominate timelines within hours.

Recently, a monkey named Punch-kun in Japan captured the internet’s attention. Videos circulated showing him clinging to a small stuffed orangutan from IKEA after reportedly being abandoned by his mother. Millions expressed heartbreak, reposted clips and flooded comment sections with sympathy. The response was immediate and emotional.

This contrast raises an uncomfortable question: Why does it sometimes feel easier for people to empathize with an animal than with fellow human beings?

Part of the answer may lie in psychological distance. Many individuals disengage from human suffering when it feels geographically distant or politically complex. Wars, systemic oppression and state violence are layered issues that require historical context, critical thinking and confrontation with uncomfortable realities. 

Feeling empathy for distant human suffering can also produce helplessness. When people believe they cannot influence events occurring across the globe, they may emotionally withdraw. Over time, institutions and political systems can reinforce that sense of powerlessness, subtly teaching citizens that action is futile.

There is also a deeper, more unsettling normalization at play. Conflicts in the Global South are often framed as routine or inevitable, reinforcing the harmful notion that instability is simply “how things are” in certain parts of the world. This framing diminishes urgency and desensitizes audiences to repeated tragedy.

The disparity in attention becomes even clearer domestically. During the same week that many publicly condemned violence against conservative commentator Charlie Kirk, a 21-year-old Black student, Demartravion “Trey” Reed, was found dead on the campus of Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi. His death received far less engagement online. The imbalance in visibility prompts difficult reflection about whose lives are amplified, whose suffering is politicized, and whose stories fade quietly.

Why do we normalize the deaths and suffering of marginalized communities, both abroad and within the United States? Why do narratives of violence in the Global South or against minorities often fail to spark sustained outrage? And why does empathy sometimes flow more freely toward animals than toward people?

Animals are perceived as innocent, apolitical and uncomplicated. Their suffering does not require viewers to examine their own beliefs, biases or complicity within larger systems. Human suffering, by contrast, forces confrontation with inequality, racism, nationalism and global power structures. It demands not only emotion but accountability.

Selective empathy is not simply about caring for one cause over another; it reflects deeper social conditioning about whose pain is visible, whose pain is relatable and whose pain is expected. Until we begin interrogating these patterns and until we move beyond passive scrolling toward informed action, our compassion will remain uneven: loud in moments of viral tragedy, yet quiet in the face of ongoing human suffering.