Empathy at work: is it toxic?

Why this question

Some public voices, mainly in the United States, now call empathy “toxic”, “suicidal” or even a “sin”. In September 2026, The Atlantic summed up this trend in an article by Elizabeth Bruenig: “Why Empathy Is Now ‘Toxic,’ ‘Suicidal,’ and a ‘Sin’”.

These ideas come from two worlds: conservative Christian writers, and commentators who put cold reason above feeling. One example is the book Suicidal Empathy: Dying to Be Kind by Gad Saad. In 2025, Elon Musk gave the idea a global audience when he called empathy the fundamental weakness of Western civilisation.

The debate is political. It is used mainly in arguments about immigration, crime and social benefits. Its supporters say empathy leads to naive policies. Its critics say it offers a vocabulary to make harder policies sound reasonable rather than cruel.

The critics of empathy say it makes us decide with our heart instead of our head, and that others can use it to put pressure on us. Part of this is true. Still, it is important to clarify what empathy is, so that we do not mix things up or get carried away by false interpretations.

Words first: where they come from

The debate mixes up several ideas under one word. Their roots help to tell them apart.

Empathy comes from the Greek en (“in”) and pathos (“feeling, suffering”). The English word was created in 1909 to translate the German Einfühlung: “feeling into”. Empathy has two sides, cognitive and emotional.

Word Roots What it means
Cognitive empathy Latin cognoscere, “to get to know” I understand what the other person thinks and feels.
Emotional empathy Latin emovere, “to move out, to stir up” I feel some of what the other person feels. It moves me.

1. True empathy

True empathy means: I hear the other person's needs, I stay in touch with my own, and I stay free to choose my answer. In short: contact, boundary, choice.

People show true empathy in different ways. Some start with the person and how they feel. Others start with the problem and what would help.

Situation Two empathic answers
A restructuring is announced. Marta tells the team she doesn't know who her new manager will be.

Person first: “That sounds unsettling. How are you doing with it?”

Problem first: “Let's find out what is already decided. I can ask HR who you will report to.”

Tom's report to a client went out with a wrong figure. He is embarrassed.

Person first: “Anyone could have missed it in this rush. Don't be too hard on yourself.”

Problem first: “It's fixable. Let's send a correction before noon, and I'll check the figures with you.”

The first way helps people feel heard, but can slip into taking on their worry. The second brings concrete help, but sometimes people only need to be heard, not to be offered a solution. Each has something to learn from the other.

2. Empathy that loses its balance

Here the balance between their needs and mine is lost, and my answer is no longer really free. This can happen to anyone.

a) Merging: “Your stress becomes my stress.”

A colleague is panicking about a deadline. You stay online until midnight to finish her part, then feel exhausted and quietly resentful, because your own priorities were pushed aside. You no longer know if you helped because it was right, or because her anxiety had become yours. The feeling is real, but the boundary is gone.

b) Fear: “I act to protect myself.”

Your manager asks you to work the weekend during a busy period. You say yes and tell yourself you want to support her. In truth, you are worried about your annual review. Fear can also make you hold back: in a meeting, a senior manager unfairly criticises a colleague. You would like to support her, but you stay silent in case it counts against you. Fear is about consequences: my job, my evaluation, my next move.

c) Guilt: “I act to stay a good colleague.”

A colleague goes on leave and asks you to take over her file. You are already overloaded, but you agree, because refusing would make you feel selfish, or because “people will think you are not a team player”. Guilt is about my image: in my own eyes, or in the eyes of others.

d) Expecting a return: “I help, and I keep count.”

You cover a colleague's meeting while she is ill. Without saying it, you expect her to back your remote-working request next month. This is human, and not wrong. But it helps to notice that this empathy is not free. If nothing comes back, resentment may follow.

In b), c) and d), my action also answers my need: for safety, approval or a return. It looks like empathy, but it isn't quite.

3. Empathy used as leverage

Here the problem is not my empathy. It is someone else using it to get what they want.

The Friday before a big deadline, a colleague says: “After everything I've done for this team, you can't refuse me this.” Or: “If you really cared about the team, you'd take this on.” Your “no” is turned into a lack of heart. It usually works by pushing you into guilt (2c).

Warning signs:

  • sudden urgency that leaves no time to think;
  • disagreement treated as a moral fault, not discussed on its merits;
  • concessions that always go in the same direction.
The answer is not less empathy. It is empathy that keeps its right to say no.

One question to check yourself

“Can I still say no?”

If the answer is… …it is probably
Yes, and I still choose to help True empathy or compassion
No, because I can't tell my feelings from theirs Merging
No, because I'm worried about the consequences Fear
No, because I would feel like a bad colleague Guilt
Yes, but I will feel hurt if nothing comes back Expecting a return
No, because they make me look heartless Empathy used as leverage

Useful phrases

  • “I understand your situation, and my answer is still no.”
  • “I can see this matters to you. Here is what I can do.”
  • “Understanding you doesn't mean I agree with you.”
  • “I want to help, and I also need to protect my own workload this week.”

In short: understanding is not agreeing, and saying no is not a lack of respect.

4. Compassion

Why talk about compassion here? Because the difference with empathy is often unclear, and the two words are easily confused. Compassion also tends to sound spiritual. Yet organisations are starting to use it, for example in “compassionate leadership”. To understand what it really means, it helps to go back to its source.

The word. Compassion comes from the Latin com (“with”) and pati (“to suffer”): “to suffer with”.

The Buddhist source. In Buddhism, compassion (karuṇā) is one of the four “immeasurables”, with loving-kindness, sympathetic joy and equanimity. It is the wish that others be free from suffering, and the drive to relieve it. In the Mahāyāna tradition, compassion always goes together with wisdom, and equanimity keeps it steady. Compassion is therefore not sentimental: it is caring, clear and steady.

Psychology takes it up. From the 2000s, Western psychology took compassion out of its religious setting, as it had done with mindfulness. Thupten Jinpa, a former monk and the Dalai Lama's translator, created a secular Compassion Cultivation Training at Stanford University. Research by Tania Singer and Olga Klimecki showed that emotional empathy alone leads to distress and fatigue, while compassion is linked to warmth and the motivation to help, and protects against burnout. Some see this as a borrowing from religion; others as a translation of it into everyday language.

Organisations follow. Michael West, a professor of organisational psychology, describes compassionate leadership as four behaviours: listening carefully, understanding, empathising and helping.

5. Empathy across cultures

This balance between the other person's needs and mine takes different forms across cultures. Asian cultures offer a useful mirror.

Saying no. Openly refusing, especially someone senior, can make both people lose face. Saying yes may express respect, not fear: think of the Thai kreng jai, the care not to burden others. The real question becomes: “Do I choose this yes, or is it taken from me?” A no can also be said indirectly: “Let me see what I can do.”

Face and reciprocity. Face and shame (mianzi, malu, hiya) often weigh more than guilt. Giving and returning (guanxi, balas budi, utang na loob) weaves relationships together. It only becomes a problem when help turns into a debt.

Compassion, a shared value. Compassion is not only Buddhist. It echoes rahmah in Islam and ren in Confucian thought.

Here the balance is less between “my needs” and “yours”, as it often is in Western cultures, than between the person, the relationship and the group. In the West, the starting point tends to be the individual; in Asia, it tends to be the group. The principle stays the same: care for the other, without losing yourself.

Conclusion: is empathy toxic?

No. Empathy is deeply human. We are touched by another person before we even think, and this is what makes working together possible. It can come with emotion, and that is fine. What keeps it healthy is balance: I listen to the other person's needs, and I keep listening to my own. Empathy is a matter of mutual respect, for them and for me.

What we could call “toxic empathy” is not empathy that goes too far. It is empathy that has lost its balance, through merging, fear, guilt or the expectation of a return, or empathy that someone uses as a lever.

Its deepest form, compassion, could be described as a balance between the heart and wisdom, asking for nothing in return. I help because I feel it is right for the other person. A higher state of consciousness inspires me to act for them.