Book Review: Toxic Empathy: How Progressives Exploit Christian Compassion by Allie Beth Stuckey

The Empathy Wars

A few years ago, a heated theological debate was ignited after Canon Press released a podcast provocatively titled “The Sin of Empathy.” It was there author and professor, Joe Rigney, made the scandalous declaration that empathy, which he described as a demand to uncritically share the feelings of others, has been used as a tool of emotional manipulation in the church. Rigney had previously written about the insidious nature of empathy and how society has conditioned us to believe it is a more superior virtue than biblical compassion. However, due to some pushback, he began to qualify his aforementioned depiction as “untethered empathy,” meaning empathy can be a useful emotion, such as the bond between mother and child, as long as it is submitted to the truth of God’s Word. And, he reasons, while we should engage our feelings in order to sympathize, or “suffer with,” others, it must not be at the expense of practicing godly discernment. Still, this wasn’t enough for his detractors, who sought to characterize him a “misogynistic, narcissistic, abuse enabler.” So, since we as Christians are commanded to love our neighbors as ourselves and “weep with those who weep,” why does such a seemingly-noble word such as empathy cause so much ire and division?

What’s in a Word?

The word empathy, literally “in feeling”, did not appear in our lexicon until the beginning of the 20th century. What started out as a Modernist term to describe a person’s ability to project their feelings onto a work of art, morphed into a psychological term used to help therapists enter into their patient’s feelings to better understand and help them. Over the years the term has become synonymous with sympathy; still, there’s no consensus on the official meaning. What most people assume you mean by the word empathy is the ability to understand and share the emotions of others (often while withholding judgement). In her latest book, Toxic Empathy, Christian political and social commentator, Allie Beth Stuckey, aims to disassociate what she calls “toxic empathy” (i.e. “untethered empathy”) from the biblical version of sympathy and compassion. Like Rigney, Stuckey sees inherent value in empathy as a means to show care and concern for others, but she also sees it as “just an emotion,” such as anger, which can be used virtuously or destructively (xiii). 

As the book’s inside cover states, Stuckey believes the term has been “hijacked by bad actors who exploit compassion for their own ideological ends.” Stuckey knows her audience, mostly married Christian women, will bristle at the thought of appearing unloving to the watching world, and thus includes the assurance that this book “isn’t about doing away with empathy altogether, it’s about submitting our empathy to factual data, rational arguments, and biblical truth.” She also understands the necessity of grounding this fashionable term in the Scriptures, which is why she supports her argument with the NIV 2011’s translation of Hebrews 4:15, which states, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses..” (emphasis mine). It’s worth noting that this is the only commonly-used English translation that does not use sympathy, from the Greek sympatheō ( “soom-path-eh’-o”). Perhaps Stuckey chose this translation because it is the best-selling Bible translation in the English language. Nonetheless, the NIV 2011 was criticized by the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood for incorporating a feminist-driven “gender-neutral philosophy of translation” as well as changing “some key verses on women‘s role in the church so that they favor an evangelical feminist position.” Perhaps, there is a connection between the NIV using politically correct terminology and the preference of the left for more empathy over sympathy.

Girl Power

There is no denying that we live in a more feminized society than generations before. Some have used the phrase “The Longhouse” to explain how our society has adopted “social norms centering feminine needs and feminine methods for controlling, directing, and modeling behavior.” Girls now outpace boys in reading scores, and young women outnumber young men in obtaining college degrees. This may seem like a victory for those aiming for more female empowerment since it means having a female-coded managerial class who “lead with empathy” to promote diversity, equity, inclusivity, and a host of other progressive values. Indeed, the reliance on empathy as a moral guide is inculcated from grade school. For instance, most public schools have implemented social-emotional learning (SEL) as a secular moral framework designed to catechize pupils, by the spirit of empathy, into unquestioning fidelity to the unholy trinity of DEI. 

The Left has long employed empathy, a largely female characteristic, as a virtue signal to the American voter. With more young women leaning left than ever before, The 2024 DNC proved that Kamala Harris was no exception when her husband declared, “Empathy is her strength.” In Toxic Empathy, Stuckey persuasively argues that when it comes to making moral decisions, empathy is a weakness. The book consists of five chapters dedicated to debunking lies propagated by progressives under the guise of compassion (ex. “Abortion is Healthcare”). She makes a clever rhetorical choice to open each chapter with an emotion-ladened anecdote in support of a progressive policy meant to cause a visceral reaction in the reader. These are the types of stories that the Left use to push Orwellian-sounding platitudes such as “Reproductive rights are human rights.” Stuckey brings solid counterarguments backed by logical reasoning and biblical principles to expose how the left’s counterfeit version of compassion harms the actual victims, mainly children. In the process, she empowers women to see through the Left’s political machinations in order to live out Scripture’s command to love “in deed and in truth” (1 Jn. 3:18).

Hard Truths

As host of the podcast “Relatable,” Stuckey has established herself as the foremost female Christian conservative commentator in the arena of culture and politics. She is not one to shy away from controversial issues and usually has fair and balanced takes. For example, when Stephen Wolfe broke reformed Twitter/X by stating that white evangelicals are the “lone bulwark” in regards to being the largest conservative voting bloc, Stuckey was one of the few prominent evangelicals who chose to agree with the factual validity of his assertion rather than assume racist sentiments. 

In Toxic Empathy, Stuckey holds true to form, by taking unpopular stances on topics that many conservatives have waffled on in recent years. In her chapter on the trans issue, Stuckey calls out so-called “pronoun hospitality” endorsed by the likes of Preston Sprinkle and until he was confronted on it, JD Grear (57). On the topics of IVF and surrogacy, Stuckey states, “Surrogacy and egg/sperm selling always intentionally wound a child by separating them from their biological parents or the woman who carried them” (78). With regard to illegal immigration, Stuckey defends nationalism, properly defined, as “placing the needs and interests of one’s own nation over…other countries” (118). Furthermore, she agrees with C.S. Lewis that natural affections for our fellow countrymen “primes us for the unnatural [selfless] love to which Christians are called” (119). Don’t let the powder blue book cover fool you; this book packs a punch. And considering all of the “based” takes within it, it’s hard not to recommend Toxic Empathy; however, I must do so with one caveat.

The Feminist Mistake

As previously mentioned, Joe Rigney was early to arrive at the “sin of empathy” party, though he himself was inspired by C.S. Lewis’ idea of “the passion of pity” from The Great Divorce. When Rigney brought the issue to the forefront, he was doing so from the context of pastoral counseling, church leadership, as well as the marriage relationship. He saw the tyrannical nature of unrestrained empathy and its power to wreck church and family unity, so he wanted to sound the alarm, primarily towards men. He instead called for a biblical approach to sympathy and compassion which makes God the arbiter of truth rather than our feelings. Unfortunately, many women with egalitarian leanings and their “white knights” took this as a dog whistle for men to discount abuse claims and deny women “a seat at the table” of church leadership. Rigney attributes this to the infiltration of feminism in the church, which ushered in a host of critical theories. However, this is an unpopular take in the evangelical world. After all, do fish know they are in water? 

Therefore, it’s disappointing that Stuckey does not touch on how the lie of feminism, the water we are all swimming in, has smuggled progressive ideologies into the conservative church in the name of empathy. It appears that Stuckey doesn’t believe feminism is a threat to the church. As she stated in one of her podcasts from 2020,  “in the same way patriarchy isn’t the Christian woman’s biggest problem, feminism is not the Christian man’s biggest problem.” Granted, it’s not the Christian man’s biggest problem, but it is a pitfall for many Christian women who try to assert control over men through means such as toxic empathy. In another episode, she dismissively refers to feminism as a “symptom” of living in a fallen world when in reality it’s been more like a cancer in our society. Stuckey herself has admitted that she struggles with submitting to authority, and she has also stated that she understands that male headship over the wife is God-ordained and rooted in creation, but she also has stated on more than one occasion that she has the capability of preaching “a more biblically sound…sermon than many male pastors in America today.”  Besides bearing a striking resemblance to Annie Oakley, Stuckey’s argument follows the same line of reasoning used by SBC churches who allow women to function in a pastoral role but without the title. Perhaps it’s because she grew up in a church that employs women ministers. Perhaps it’s because she subscribes to a third-way version of complementarianism. Either way, it reveals a definite blind spot in her theology which causes her to miss an important opportunity to warn her readers of their own feminist impulses which can wreak havoc in the home and the church.

Conclusion

In her latest effort, Stuckey has provided a valuable resource to help Christian women think critically about political issues in the spirit of love without compromising biblical truth. The fact that Stuckey is one of the few high-profile evangelicals who will take a bold stance on hot-button issues such as abortion and social justice is to be commended. At the same time, Toxic Empathy lacks the spiritual guidance women need to look beyond the political realm and take a look inward to see where they may have allowed their passions (empathy, or otherwise) to feed a need only God can satisfy. 

In her defense, Stuckey does not aim to speak into women’s home or church life in this book. Perhaps that should serve as a reminder about the limits of politics when it comes to growing in the grace and knowledge of Christ. Political opinions, while important, are ultimately formed through a proper understanding of God’s word. For Stuckey’s target audience, the Apostle Paul gives the best advice: “let them ask their husbands at home” and let the older women in the church “teach them what is good” (1 Cor. 14:35, Titus 2:3).