Toxic Empathy

A sharp Christian voice makes a bold argument: when politics are driven by empathy rather than truth, innocent people pay the price.

We are told that empathy is the highest virtue—the key to being a good person. Is that true? Or has “empathy,” like so many other words of our day— “tolerance,” “justice,” “acceptance”—been hijacked by bad actors who exploit compassion for their own political ends? 

In <Toxic Empathy<, Allie Beth Stuckey argues that empathy has become a tool of manipulation by left-wing activists who bully people into believing that they must adopt progressive positions to be loving. She explores the five most heated issues through which toxic empathy is deployed: abortion, gender, sexuality, immigration, and social justice. Progressives use catchy mantras to present their perspective as empathetic, like &ldquo;abortion is healthcare,&rdquo; &ldquo;love is love,&rdquo; or &ldquo;no human being is illegal,&rdquo; but in each case, they ignore the other side of the moral equation. For example, abortion is presented as compassionate for the woman, but what about the human life the procedure kills?

This book isn&rsquo;t about killing empathy; it&rsquo;s about submitting our empathy to God&rsquo;s definitions of love, goodness, and justice. Stuckey exposes the&nbsp;logical pitfalls and moral consequences of toxic empathy, equipping Christians with research-backed, Biblical truths to dismantle the progressive lies that have permeated our culture&mdash; and our church.

Auteur

Allie Beth Stuckey

Échantillon de lecture
Lie #1

"Abortion Is Health Care"

If I know anything at all about God . . .
I know that God hates abortion.

-R. C. Sproul

Halo Casiano was born in an East Texas hospital on March 29, 2023, weighing just three pounds. She lived for only four hours, taking her last breath wrapped in the arms of her father, Luis.

Halo was born with an underdeveloped skull and brain, the result of a birth defect called anencephaly. Babies who suffer from anencephaly are often stillborn, or survive a few days, at most, after birth.

Samantha, Halo's mom, was devastated by the diagnosis she received at her twenty-week anatomy scan. This was the little girl she'd hoped for, wanted, and for nearly five months, loved. When her doctor informed her that the baby's defect made her incompatible with life, she knew she needed an abortion.

To her surprise, however, that option wasn't available. While she was aware that Texas had enacted further abortion restrictions since the overturning of Roe v. Wade in 2022, she thought that her daughter's diagnosis would create an exception. But Texas's laws only permit abortions when the mother's life is in danger, like when there is an ectopic pregnancy (where the baby is growing outside the uterus, usually in the fallopian tube).

She had no choice but to carry the pregnancy to term. The weeks leading up to delivery were hellish, sending Samantha into a state of deep depression. As much as she loved her daughter, she dreaded watching her suffer and die.

"I didn't want to go to the doctor's office," she told NPR, who first reported on her story. "I don't want to sound hateful, but I don't want to see all these pregnant women, and I'm over here carrying a baby-I love my baby, but she should be at rest by now. I just keep thinking that over and over again-my baby should be at rest, I shouldn't have to put her through this."

Samantha quickly learned that simultaneously preparing for your baby's birth and death is not only traumatic, it's expensive. Living in a mobile home with four of her own children-including her nine-month-old daughter-as well as her goddaughter, she and Luis didn't have funds to spare for a funeral, for which she was quoted a price of four thousand dollars.

At thirty-three weeks gestation, still unsure how they'd overcome these seemingly insurmountable challenges, Samantha endured a painful delivery and finally met her wanted, fragile baby girl, Halo. She spent her last moments in the presence of parents who loved her and would have done anything to make her whole.

Managing to put together the funds to provide a funeral for Halo, Samantha and Luis buried their daughter on Good Friday.

Samantha vowed never to get pregnant again.

What "Empathy" Demands

Samantha's story is heartbreaking. As a mom, I can feel the pain she must have suffered during and after pregnancy. Imagining those precious, gut-wrenching hours after Halo's birth-holding her, tracing her little face, feeling her tiny grip on your finger, hoping against hope that maybe the doctors were wrong.

Maybe she's the exception, you think. Maybe she's the girl who'll defy all odds and live, fulfilling all the dreams you had for her. Then collapsing with an excruciating, confusing mixture of sadness and relief as you realize she's breathed her last breath, and that the daughter you'd carried and cared for would never grow up. You'd never hear her laugh, see her walk, know her personality. She's gone, and now you have to go home without her, facing the cold reality of everyday life's relentless demands. There's nothing that could prepare you for that.

I've now birthed three children. Like all moms, I remember everything: the surprise and excitement of the first positive pregnancy test, the first kicks, the nerves before the twenty-week scan, the anticipation and misery of the last few weeks of pregnancy, and the endless layers of emotional and physical experiences that accompany labor and delivery.

The love that you have for these children you've grown and birthed is indescribable and consuming. I'm sure Samantha felt what I feel as a mother-that I would do absolutely anything, make any sacrifice, for my children. I'd take their pain, if I could, do anything to ensure their well-being. Having children truly is like having your heart walk around outside your body. There's nothing simultaneously more painful and joy-inducing.

I first read Samantha's story in a piece by NPR, published a few weeks after Halo's birth. The article and accompanying Instagram post were clearly written to evoke sadness and anger, specifically from women like me, regarding the injustice of the family's situation. The comments underneath the article and post echo the piece's intent: That she was forced to carry the pregnancy post-diagnosis, forced to give birth, and forced to pay for a funeral, we read, is the unfair and cruel consequence of abortion restrictions and the overturning of Roe.

NPR seeks to solicit empathy toward Samantha, asking readers to put themselves in her shoes. The implicit questions are obvious: How awful would it be to carry a pregnancy you knew would end in the death of your baby? How stressful would it be to plan a funeral for your child while working, trying to make ends meet, and taking care of both yourself and your baby? How much easier would it have been for Samantha if she'd been able to have an abortion at twenty weeks? What if this were you? Would you want to endure this kind of painful ordeal? Shouldn't we remove abortion restrictions so tragic stories like Samantha's won't happen again? Plus, isn't abortion just "reproductive health"-another part of women's health care?

There was a time when I would have been the target audience for a story like Samantha's.

When I was growing up, topics like abortion were rarely discussed. I lived in the "before time"-pre the craziness of social media and nonstop news. My friends and I felt no pressure to have a formulated position on every social issue of the day. At the time, I didn't even really know what the abortion procedure entailed. I was just intuitively pro-life. Before my belief that killi…