I’ve said this sentiment before. I want to say it again — with more clarity.

As finite human beings, we have a limited amount of emotional energy and empathy. That’s not a flaw. It’s a feature. Empathy was given to us so we could make a difference in our actual lives — within a series of ever-expanding spheres of influence.

But the culture we live in tells us something different.

It tells us that empathy should primarily move us to action outside our spheres of influence.

Because we have digital reach, every post becomes a “letter to the editor.” We comment on the happenings in Minnesota, California, Myanmar, or Washington, D.C. — often places we don’t live, systems we don’t participate in, and outcomes we have no meaningful ability to influence.

We do this armed with weaponized information, carefully curated to align us on one side or the other.

And we tell ourselves our words are “making a difference.”

But in reality, we have absolutely no say in most of these matters.

Meanwhile, we can find ourselves emotionally invested in injustices toward puppy dogs on an island in the South Pacific…
…and then somehow have nothing left to show up for our neighbor.
Or our kids.
Or our spouse.
Or even our own mental health and wellbeing.

This isn’t an argument for apathy.

It’s an argument for stewardship.

Empathy is a precious resource. When we spend it indiscriminately, we exhaust ourselves without changing anything.

That doesn’t mean we should never care about what happens outside our spheres of influence. It means we need to budget our emotional resources if we actually want to help real people.

If I’m constantly told I need to have compassion for people I will never meet — and the required action of that compassion is merely agreeing with a philosophy or typing words into a comment section at 11:00 p.m. — then I’m not being virtuous.

The better questions are these:

Who can I show compassion to today?
Where can I actually make a difference?
Who needs me to show up for them right now?
And how do I take care of myself so I’m strong enough to take care of others?

Carpetbombing empathy does little to penetrate the bunkers of evil scattered across the world.

But applied empathy — focused, intentional, embodied — can change the lives of the people right in front of us.

And that’s where real change almost always begins.