Two and a half years ago, I received a personal letter from Jimmy Carter. It was a letter of condolence on the passing of my aunt, who had been a White House correspondent. As you can imagine, the letter made an impression: the 97-year-old former President of the United States had taken the time to find my address and write me a letter of comfort. It’s only human to feel a sense of connection. And that, in fact, is the problem.
Jimmy Carter was known as a man of great empathy, a world-renowned humanitarian, a Nobel Peace Prize winner. He built houses for Habitat for Humanity and campaigned for the eradication of diseases in Africa and Latin America. The Carter Center has promoted democracy, health, and conflict resolution throughout the world.
It has been argued, over the past century, that empathy is indispensable to morality. In psychologist Martin Hoffman’s words, “the roots of morality are to be found in empathy”, and scientists such as C. Daniel Batson advocate for the “empathy-altruism hypothesis”. Simon Baron-Cohen has written about the link between evil and the absence of empathy.
Others, however, have argued that empathy is a confounding influence, with Paul Bloom going so far as to provocatively title a book, “Against Empathy”. Even Rutger Bregman’s more upbeat “Humankind: A Hopeful History” argues that humanity’s core strength is not empathy, which “blinds” and makes people “less forgiving”, identifying exclusively with victims and generalizing about adversaries. Even empathy advocate Batson acknowledges that high-empathy individuals are more likely to help the subjects of their empathy “at the expense of others”.
If indeed empathy can lead you astray, Jimmy Carter may be Exhibit A. Alongside his noble work, Carter also found common ground with terrorist groups such as Hamas and with the Assad dictatorship, and constantly blamed Israel alone for all the problems of the Middle East. There are countless images and records of him literally and figuratively embracing the worst murderers on Earth, eagerly advocating and legitimating their positions.
Many feel that Carter was antisemitic; perhaps. His attitudes toward the Jewish State were certainly extreme and difficult to explain. But what is clearly true is that the empathy he apparently displayed was no barrier to him becoming a pawn of forces of pure evil. Also clearly true is that there are many thousands of others whose natural instincts have been exploited and manipulated by terrorists such as Hamas, and innocent and good people all over the world are paying the price.
One need not, however, go as far as Bloom and Bregman and be “against empathy”. Empathy is a crucial Jewish value, and is indeed a necessary trait as a bulwark against cruelty and an impetus towards kindness. One who feels empathy will be moved to build houses for the homeless, and that is a wonderful thing. Further, empathy is an end unto itself, rather than a means. A condolence letter is an act of empathy that says I am with you, and nothing more, and that is a wonderful thing, too.
Where empathy falls short is as a policy maker, especially for those who carry the weight of complex decisions that can affect the lives of millions, and that requires dealing with people who are not necessarily what they seem and will exploit any weakness.
The trait of rachmanut, which could be identified with empathy, is indispensable for Jews; the Talmud says its presence is one way to identify a descendant of Abraham. But it also cannot exist by itself; the Talmud also warns that those who display rachmanut to the cruel will thereby act with cruelty to those who truly need rachmanut.
Crucially, the Talmud actually requires three traits to establish lineage from Abraham: two being rachmanut and the practice of chesed, or kindness. These may seem identical, but clearly if they were they would not occupy two spots. They are, instead, complementary. Rachmanut is the instinct to act on behalf of those who appear to be suffering; chesed is the benevolent act itself, having been rationally verified as the right course of action, in consideration of all factors in balance. The first is needed to move one to act; the second is to assure that the act is good.
The third criterion is bushah, shame, what may correlate to a sense of humility. This is the controlling factor of the other two; the recognition that it’s possible to be wrong, that one’s initial instinct may not be providing the whole picture, that even the most virtuous impulse may be misguided. If the loudest cheerleaders of Hamas, be they former presidents or ivy league students, had more bushah, the world may actually be a better place.
Don’t give up on empathy – it is a powerful force, and vital for the world’s future. And that’s exactly why its so important we get it right.
R' Daniel Feldman
