Ben Shapiro’s recent advice piece argues something every hardworking American already knows in our bones: feeling bad for someone is not the same as doing something that helps them succeed. He makes the conservative case that compassion—measured, principle-driven assistance that preserves human dignity—takes you farther than raw, performative empathy that often merely wallows in emotion. That distinction matters because our country needs solutions, not self-righteous virtue signaling.
Shapiro has long warned that empathy can be a political trap: when policy is driven by feeling instead of reason it rewards spectacle and special pleading rather than fair rules that lift people up. He’s blunt about the consequences—policies crafted from fleeting emotional appeal often produce worse outcomes for the many while rewarding the political class and victim industries. Conservatives should stop apologizing for insisting that laws and social programs be judged by results, not Instagram tears.
That skeptical view of empathy isn’t just talk radio. Psychologists like Paul Bloom have made the academic case for “rational compassion,” arguing that empathy’s gut reactions can mislead while compassion focused on outcomes and fairness actually leads to better moral choices. Conservatives who value evidence and consequences should welcome arguments that move us from feeling to doing. If we want to help our neighbors, we should design policies that produce real flourishing, not theatrical displays that make elite pundits feel morally superior.
Look around and you’ll see sloppy empathy weaponized into politics by the left: elevate grievance, manufacture victim classes, and demand policies that concentrate power and dependency. Critics across the spectrum have noticed a modern campaign to make empathy the badge of moral authority while dismissing anyone who asks for facts and accountability. Ordinary Americans deserve leaders who show compassion through charity, opportunity, and the rule of law—not virtue signaling that corrodes responsibility.
Real compassion in conservative hands means helping people get back on their feet, not keeping them in perpetual crisis to feed narratives and fund activist industries. It means churches, neighbors, and local charities stepping up where government bungles, and policies that reward work, family, and faith. That is the kind of practical love that rebuilds communities and restores hope, and it is the opposite of the performative empathy that dominates the left’s moral theater.
If you want to see compassion win, invest in institutions that create durable success: apprenticeships, vocational training, faith-based outreach, and local civic life. Conservatives ought to advertise results—reduced dependency, rising incomes, safer neighborhoods—because outcomes silence the hollow moral posturing of our opponents. The country is tired of talk; Americans want action that respects dignity and demands responsibility.
Let’s be clear: feeling sympathy for suffering is human and good, but public policy must be guided by prudence and principle so compassion actually helps people build better lives. The evidence shows approaches that convert feeling into deliberate action produce more prosocial behavior and sustained results than raw affect alone. Conservatives should own that argument proudly, and continue to push a politics that prizes strength, charity, and common-sense solutions over theatrical empathy.
