Do You Care Enough? Too Much?

Someone sees another suffering and seems to feel their pain.  An onlooker might, therefore, conclude the apparent empathizer has reacted from pure moral and humanitarian concern.  Why else? 

Well, some psychologists do not automatically default to that moral and/or  humanitarian explanation.  In fact, given the widespread public recognition of “virtue signaling” many non-psychologists, also, might be empathy-skeptical. Regardless of the interpretation of the purposes of empathic behavior, we all, at least, can accept that empathy results in uniformly positive outcomes. Really? Well…  We will address that soon.

Let’s begin with some contextual information. First, a couple definitions.   The  Miriam-Webster. dictionary definition of empathy is “the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another.”  So, the essential elements are: understanding, awareness, sensitivity, and experiencing. Social scientists also speak of “altruistic empathy,” regarded as a selfless concern for the well-being of others, often at the expense of the individual’s own interests.

I choose in this blog to add and focus on “suicidal empathy,” a condition in which one feels others’ pain so deeply that it actually harms the empathizer. Think of someone who can’t watch the news without crying, who gives away too much of themselves—time, money, emotional energy—until they’re completely drained. At least on the surface, they’re not doing it for praise or reward. They just can’t not care, even when it costs them their own well-being. Why might someone behave at that suicidal level?

Under conditions of suicidal empathy, I don’t just mean feeling sad when a friend is struggling—I mean feeling so much of someone else's pain that it becomes overwhelming. The empathizer is so emotionally tied to another person’s suffering that they start to lose themselves, even to the point of risking their own mental health, safety, or will to live. Again, I ask “why would someone do this, let someone else's pain drag them down that far?” Well, a few psychological hypotheses, of varying levels of reasonableness, have been proposed to explain it.

First, the empathizer is just wired to feel everything—deeply. Some people are said to be naturally extremely empathetic. They don’t just understand how someone feels—they feel it too. It’s like their emotional antenna is always turned all the way up. If someone they know about is suffering, they might feel it just as much, or even more. It's not a choice—supposedly it’s how they're built. And without strong emotional boundaries, it can become suffocating.

Second, they don’t know where others end and they begin. People who grew up with blurred emotional lines—maybe in families where they had to take care of everyone else’s feelings—can carry that into adulthood. They feel responsible for other people’s pain, like it’s their job to fix it or absorb it. Letting someone else suffer feels wrong, almost like a personal failure. So, they dive into that suffering without thinking of the cost to themselves.

Third, they’ve been through trauma, and this feels familiar.  For some, intense empathy is a kind of echo from their past. If someone’s been through trauma—especially as a child—they might be drawn to people who are also hurting. Helping others becomes a way to process their own pain, even if it’s not conscious. But sometimes it crosses a line and becomes a reenactment—they end up drowning in someone else’s trauma because it mirrors their own.

Fourth, they don’t feel like they matter unless they’re helping. People with low self-worth might believe their only value comes from being useful or self-sacrificing. They might not even realize they think this way, but deep down there’s a voice saying, You’re only lovable when you’re giving everything you have—even if it destroys you. They tie their identity to being the one who always cares, always helps, always puts others first—even if it’s killing them inside.

Fifth, they believe suffering is the right thing to do. Some people have this moral or idealistic belief that if someone else is in pain, they should be in pain too. Anything less feels selfish. So instead of supporting someone from a place of strength, they collapse under the weight of that person’s suffering. They might think, If I don’t feel this pain too, what kind of person am I?

Sixth, they’re just burned out. This happens a lot with caregivers—nurses, therapists, social workers, even people who are always the emotional rock in their families. They’re exposed to so much suffering, day after day, that eventually they just can’t take it anymore. The empathy that used to fuel them starts to drain them. And when that pain keeps piling up with no break, some people fall into despair or even suicidal thoughts. It’s not because they don’t care—it’s because they’ve cared too much, for too long, without taking care of themselves.

Last, they're afraid to be left alone. Sometimes, people hold on to someone else’s pain because it keeps them connected. Maybe they’re scared that if they stop being the one who "feels everything," they’ll be abandoned or forgotten. So, they keep sacrificing their own well-being just to stay close, even if that closeness is built on shared suffering.

Just as individuals can suffer from suicidal empathy, so can countries. In that case, social  policies are guided by intense emotional responses without adequate boundaries that lead to unintended negative outcomes. Douglas Murray’s The Strange Death of Europe offers a compelling critique that aligns closely with the concept of suicidal empathy at the national level. He argues that Western Europe's response to mass immigration is driven more by guilt and emotional reflex than by rational self-interest or cultural preservation.

Murray contends that European societies have lost confidence in their own values and traditions, leading to policies that prioritize compassion over cohesion. He observes that this overcorrection stems from a desire to atone for historical wrongs, resulting in a form of empathy that neglects the practical implications of large-scale immigration. In his book, Murray notes: “To speak for the people of Europe was to be on the side of the devil. And all the time there existed that strange assumption that Europe was simply letting one more person into the room. Whether that person was genuinely about to be killed in the corridor became immaterial. If he was cold, poor, or just worse off there than the people inside the room, he too had the right to come in.” This quote illustrates Murray's concern that European nations, driven by an unbounded empathy, have adopted immigration policies without fully considering the long-term societal impacts.

From an evolutionary psychology perspective, empathy evolved to strengthen in-group bonds and promote cooperative behavior within communities. However, when empathy extends beyond sustainable limits—favoring out-groups at the expense of the in-group—it can undermine social cohesion and threaten the survival of the group.

Murray's analysis suggests that Western Europe's current trajectory, influenced by a form of suicidal empathy, may lead to cultural dilution and societal fragmentation. He warns that without a recalibration of empathy—balancing compassion with pragmatism—European societies risk eroding the very foundations that have historically sustained them.  To my knowledge, no one of any standing has addressed suicidal American empathy to the level that Murray has.  Perhaps it’s time to do so.

Reference:

Murray, Douglas (2018). The Strange Death of Europe. Murray, Douglas: Books. Bloomsbury USA.