Selective Empathy: How Media and Power Shape Who We Grieve: The Racialized Politics of “All Lives Matter”

I am horrified by the world we are living in. My emotions vacillate between anger, sadness, confusion, fear—and a deep sense of helplessness.

Last week Charlie Kirk, a prominent “Conservative activist”—a white Christian nationalist propagandist—was brutally murdered. It was an atrocious act, and no human being deserves such violence. What sickened me even more was the video of his death circulating online. I couldn’t sleep after witnessing such graphic imagery.

What followed on social media was equally disturbing. As with nearly every politicized event of the past decade, responses split into two polarized groups. Some mocked his death, reposting his hateful speeches as if to justify the killing. Others, mostly white people, shared sentimental tributes: “RIP” alongside pictures of him with his wife and children. What struck me most was that many of these posts came from white women who had chosen traditional paths of marriage and motherhood—women I had never seen post about politics before.

I had an immediate reaction: confusion. Not at the grief itself, but at its absence in moments of equal or greater tragedy. Where were their voices when a sexual predator was elected as president? When school shootings claimed children’s lives? When immigrant families were torn apart, Black men brutalized by police, or Nancy Pelosi’s husband nearly beaten to death? Where was the public grief when two children were shot in Colorado the very same day? Or when Democratic leaders Melissa Hortman and her husband were murdered in their home? Where were they while innocent children were, and continue to be blown to pieces in Gaza?

The number one cause of death for children in America is firearms, yet we hear silence. But the murder of a white man—who reminded them of their husbands, fathers, brothers, or sons—sparked outrage. A man, nonetheless, who proudly defended Second Amendment rights despite the toll on children’s lives, all while scapegoating transgender individuals.

To his family, Kirk may have been a husband and father. But to the broader world, he symbolized something far darker. He dedicated his career to touring college campuses, spreading misinformation about minority groups under the banner of white Christian nationalism. The irony of a 31-year-old college dropout warning students that higher education “brainwashes” them, while telling young women to focus on becoming wives and mothers, cannot be ignored. That is not free speech—it is indoctrination. “When propagated by individuals in positions of authority, this rhetoric carries profound consequences: legitimizing prejudice, reinforcing structural inequalities, and shaping the cultural narratives that guide political and social behavior” (Fairclough, 2001; Stanley, 2018).

Kirk's stance on DEI was built on diminishing entire groups of people. His comments about African Americans were racist and cruel. He even claimed that empathy has no place in society, insisting that human beings will never be enough in the eyes of God. Supporters argue that if you watch the full video, he clarifies that he “prefers sympathy,” since one cannot realistically feel another person’s emotions. But this distinction is critical: sympathy is feeling for someone, while empathy is feeling with them. Brené Brown illustrates this beautifully in her well-known animated video: empathy is climbing down into the hole with someone who is struggling and saying, “I’m here with you,” while sympathy stands above the hole saying, “Oof, that looks rough.” (Brown, B. (2013). Empathy vs. Sympathy [RSA Short Animated Video]. The RSA)

From a clinical perspective, the absence of empathy in a person is a hallmark of disrupted attachment systems and is often linked to personality disorders such as Antisocial Personality Disorder and Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

In June 2024, Kirk went further, invoking a Bible verse about stoning gay people “to death” on his podcast with Jack Posobiec, calling it “God’s perfect law when it comes to sexual matters.” Statements like these reveal that his rhetoric was not merely conservative posturing but a dangerous embrace of violence cloaked in religious justification.

Combine that knowledge with footage of Kirk and his colleagues laughing on a podcast about the “appropriate age” for children to watch human executions, and his morality becomes deeply questionable.

Kirk dismissed education and pushed anti-feminist rhetoric, reducing women’s worth to procreation alone.

From my research, those who mourn him describe him as a family man who spread the word of God. They call his work “debating” and “respectful.” Yes, I’ve seen clips where he appears calm and rational in dialogue. But I’ve also seen him shouting at audience members, bullying young Black boys by dismissing their accounts of racist slurs as “lies.” I’ve seen him argue that sexual encounters between intoxicated college students were “murky,” even when consent had clearly been withdrawn. Or how about when he stated that “Black women don’t have brain processing power to be taken seriously”. Most chilling was his declaration, during an abortion debate, that he would force his 10-year-old daughter to carry a pregnancy if she were raped. And before you defend these, please understand- there is no context in which these statements would be acceptable.

If this is the God and the morality people believe he represented, it raises urgent questions about what kind of values are being defended.

This reveals how much control media has over our worldviews. Algorithms curate what we see, shaping our beliefs like a mathematical formula. The ideologies we form are manipulated by repetition. It’s no surprise, then, that those who appear to show empathy in moments like this, but contribute nothing to broader political engagement, are often Trump supporters or their spouses. Their lives are perfectly aligned with the propaganda spread by this administration and by Kirk himself.

Conservatism, after all, is defined as a “commitment to traditional values and ideas with opposition to change or innovation.” There is nothing inherently wrong with honoring tradition. But there is a dangerous blind spot here: a refusal to evolve. Human survival depends on our ability to adapt, biologically and socially. Higher education fosters cultural curiosity and empathy, allowing us to perceive the world through perspectives beyond our own. This is not just moral—it is evolutionary survival (Batson, 2011; Decety & Cowell, 2014).

This selective empathy is telling. It is sincere, I believe, but it reveals a deeper truth: we are more likely to grieve for those who look like us, live like us, and reinforce our worldview. Psychologists call it in-group bias: Neuroscience shows our brains literally mirror less pain when the suffering person is perceived as “other.” I experienced this myself at the funeral of a young white woman my age who died of an overdose. Her death struck me harder than any other loss—not because her life was more valuable, but because I could see myself in her.

I also recognize the visceral reaction many had to the graphic video of Kirk’s death circulating online. Violence like that naturally provokes horror. But I ask those same people, did you feel the same way watching George Floyd’s murder in 2020? If not, that difference is the implicit bias and racism I’m talking about. This is not about judgment, but about reflection: Why did I not respond the same way?

This empathy gap creates moral exclusion—the unconscious belief that some people are less deserving of compassion. And it is being weaponized by those in power.

American history has always been shaped by white supremacy. After the Civil War, as minority groups expanded their freedoms, political rhetoric shifted to preserve white dominance. Reagan’s “Make America Great Again” evoked nostalgia for traditional hierarchies. Trump’s revival carried racial undertones—a longing for a time when white, Christian, heterosexual men held unchecked power (Richardson, 2023).

The tactic is not new. Hitler’s regime also thrived on creating in-groups and out-groups—vilifying Jews, Slavs, disabled people, and LGBTQ individuals as scapegoats. The Nazis controlled the narrative through propaganda: Repetition of Lies – they followed the principle of the “Big Lie”: if you repeat a lie loudly and often enough, people start to believe it. Trump’s senior advisor Stephen Miller- a white nationalist- reportedly coached him on this tactic during his 2016 election.

 The Nazis also deliberately targeted schools, universities, and youth organizations as part of their strategy to indoctrinate the next generation. The Nazis understood that shaping young minds was essential for sustaining their movement. They ensured that Nazi ideology became normalized, unquestioned, and generational. (Richard Evans’ The Third Reich in Power or Claudia Koonz’s The Nazi Conscience)

Today, we see similar strategies—Trump’s “big lie” about the 2016 election. This administration is similarly weaponizing a strong pure Christian America to unite their base by scapegoating minority groups and using total media control to enforce that narrative.

This is why education matters. Pew Research shows a widening gap:

• 61% of voters with a four-year degree leaned Democratic.

• 57% of voters without a degree leaned Republican (Pew, 2022).

  
  

This isn’t elitism. It’s about susceptibility to simplified narratives. Complex policies demand critical thinking. Propaganda thrives on oversimplification. A few crimes by undocumented immigrants are framed as proof that “all immigrants are criminals.” Statistics about African Americans in the criminal justice system are stripped of context. Repetition and fear replace nuance and truth.

Sitting at home in a bubble of sameness might feel safe, but ignorance disguised as comfort endangers everyone else. When you refuse to confront reality, you become complicit in systems that harm others.

Again, Brené Brown reminds us, empathy is “feeling with people—connecting to the emotions they experience, even if you’ve never been in their exact situation.” True empathy extends beyond our bubble. It requires caring about lives unlike our own.

And right now, my dominant emotion is fear. Fear of where we are headed. Fear that outrage is being weaponized as division. Fear that grief is being co-opted as propaganda.

Do we not see how inflammatory this is? When Jesse Watters poses the question to his audience, “What are we going to do about this?” or when Nancy Mace blames Democrats without evidence, they are not informing—they are inciting. Directed at an audience that has already stormed the Capitol, these words are dangerous. At that point, we knew nothing about the shooter of Kirk, nor his motive. Yet the right-wing media immediately seized the moment to deepen polarization, fanning division while those in power remain safely insulated behind the protections of national security.

What we have since learned about Kirk’s shooter complicates that simplistic narrative. He was not a so-called “Radical leftist,” but rather a young white man raised in a conservative, pro–gun family. Reports suggest he spent much of his time immersed in video games, isolated from meaningful friendships or community. This profile is disturbingly familiar. The crisis of lonely, angry white men—cut off from social connection, steeped in online rhetoric, and armed with easy access to firearms—has fueled many acts of violence in this country. They are not motivated by nuanced ideology so much as alienation, resentment, and the cultural permission to channel that despair through guns. Until we address that epidemic of disconnection, more lives will be lost. (Kimmel, M. (2013). Angry White Men: American Masculinity at the End of an Era. Nation Books.)

According to The Violence Project (2023), 54% of U.S. mass shooters since 1966 have been white men. Mother Jones’ dataset finds nearly identical numbers since 1982. While other racial groups are represented, white men remain the largest demographic across every major dataset (FBI, 2023; Gun Violence Archive, 2023).

Trump, nor his administration has offered an apology.

Yet the national mourning we see is not for the victims of systemic violence, but for a propagandist who defended the very systems perpetuating it.

This is a dangerous moment. His death, like any, is tragic. But if we express outrage selectively, letting algorithms dictate empathy and propaganda guide beliefs, we remain trapped in cycles of division.

The real question is this: what are you doing to help? Are you blindly following tradition, your algorithm, and your in-group, or are you cultivating courage, and compassion? My advice to anyone who is willing to introspect- if you are having prejudices against certain groups, I ask you to lean into it. Be curious, ask questions.

This is a time to separate yourself from your political party. Put your ego aside. We are more than this! The politicians are winning. They have successfully divided us and caused civil unset between friends, families, and other loved ones. They do not care about us civilians, don’t you see that yet? This is not the right against left. This is all of us against the Trump administration.

I invite everyone to step away from social media for a moment. Go walk outside. Breathe in nature. Spend time with your community and connect with people that don’t look or live like you. We are all in this together—so what role are you playing?

References

• Batson, C. D. (2011). Altruism in Humans. Oxford University Press.

• Brown, B. (2010). The Power of Vulnerability. TEDx Houston.

• Brown, B. (2013). Empathy vs. Sympathy [RSA Short Animated Video]. The RSA)

• Decety, J., & Cowell, J. M. (2014). The complex relation between morality and empathy. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 18(7), 337–339.

• Evans, R. J. (2005). The Third Reich in Power. Penguin.

• Fairclough, N. (2001). Language and Power. Routledge.

• Gun Violence Archive (2023). Mass Shooting Tracker.

• Kimmel, M. (2013). Angry White Men: American Masculinity at the End of an Era. Nation Books.

• Koonz, C. (2003). The Nazi Conscience. Belknap Press.

• Mother Jones (2023). Mass Shooting Database.

• Pew Research Center (2022). Voter Trends by Education.

• Richardson, H. C. (2023). Democracy Awakening: Notes on the State of America. Viking.

• Stanley, J. (2018). How Fascism Works. Random House.

• The Violence Project (2023). Mass Shooter Database.

• U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation (2023). Crime Data Explorer.