Redefining Empathy
(+ Learning to Train Empathy the Right Way.)
We’ve got empathy all wrong. For years, I’ve been designing research-based immersive experiences that help people see through others’ points of view, and I’ve shared these experiences with about 20,000 people. Through this work, and through my time as a design lead at an emotions research lab, I’ve discovered something profound about empathy that challenges everything we think we know about it.
When people talk about empathy, there’s this assumption that we all know what it means. But if you looked it up in the dictionary, you’d find a definition that’s scientifically impossible: “the ability to understand how another person feels.”
Most people think of empathy as something you activate in the moment of disagreement—a switch you flip when tensions rise. But real empathy doesn’t work that way. It’s more like a foundation you build slowly over time, like a bank account you need to fill before you can make a withdrawal. Think about your oldest friends—you can disagree fiercely but still want to talk the next day. That’s not because you’re naturally more empathetic with them. It’s because you’ve built up a reservoir of shared experiences that creates understanding beyond any single disagreement.
This misunderstanding of empathy reflects a broader misconception about how emotions work. Dr. Lisa Feldman Barrett, neuroscientist and author of “How Emotions Are Made,” puts it this way: “Your brain is not reacting to the world. It’s helping to create the world you experience.” This means your emotions are not universal—they’re constructed by your unique brain based on your unique experiences.
Here’s the truth: we’ll never understand how anybody else feels. We barely understand how we feel ourselves half the time. If I say I’m feeling happy, it’s not the same as your happiness. If someone says they’re feeling grumpy, I might say, “I understand,” but I don’t—not really. I’ve had a completely different set of life experiences that make me think about grumpiness in a different way.
As psychologist Paul Bloom notes, “Empathy is biased; we are more prone to feel empathy for attractive people and for those who look like us or share our ethnic or national background.” This misunderstanding creates problems. We end up thinking we understand someone else’s feelings when we’re statistically more wrong than right.
So what is empathy, then? Here’s what I’ve found:
Empathy is a verb—something you actively do. It’s the ability to acknowledge that someone else’s experiences are just as real and meaningful as your own. Not their opinions or perspectives, which might be harmful or wrong, but the life experiences that brought them to those perspectives. You don’t have to validate someone’s conclusions to acknowledge the reality of their journey.
Let me share an example from a recent session in a small town in Texas. I facilitated an experience where participants “walked in someone else’s shoes” by watching a point-of-view video. In most settings, when people watch an experience like this, the default response is to share opinions and perspectives. “I think the manager should have said X.” “I don’t agree with how they talked about heritage months.” “That kind of initiative makes me uncomfortable.” The room quickly divides into camps—those who agree with each other versus those who don’t.
This pattern of opinion-sharing might feel productive, but it actually reinforces division. It helps us identify who already agrees with us, creating insular bubbles of shared perspective. It’s precisely this mechanism that has contributed to our increasingly polarized society. We’ve optimized for opinion alignment rather than human connection.
Sometimes I’m even concerned that, subconsciously, this hunger for shared narrative is why war can be such an attractive proposition for some. Historically, war gives people a common story, a collective experience that helps them feel like part of a greater whole. It creates the togetherness that humans deeply crave. But war is perhaps the worst possible way to achieve that sense of narrative connection. It’s destructive, traumatic, and leaves lasting scars across generations—all to fulfill a need that could be met through simply sharing our stories with one another in times of peace.
That’s exactly what we practiced in our session that day. After watching the brief interaction in the break room, I guided participants away from opinions and toward personal stories.
I shared first. I talked about how my partner loves these Trinidadian snacks called doubles—fried shells filled with chickpeas that cost just two dollars each. I described how visiting these shops brings something grounding to my day: the Trinidadian women working together, chatting over loud music, making food with their hands. For a brief moment, I get to be part of Trinidadian culture, and it enriches my life.
Then one participant shared her story. She had lived in Saudi Arabia during high school when her father worked there. She described being invited to a Saudi home for what they called a “goat grab”—a meal where everyone sits on the floor with a large tablecloth. The hostess would throw pieces of food perfectly onto each person’s spot. They ate with their hands—goat meat that tasted like lamb, rice with delicious spices. She explained that despite not speaking the same language as her hosts, they could still communicate, and it became one of her most treasured cultural experiences.
Another participant shared his story about a Jamaican meal during a cruise vacation. He described how his wife was picky about food, but they both approached the unfamiliar Jamaican cooking with an open mind, not wanting to offend their hosts. He talked about trying spicy foods and unusual fruits that were outside his comfort zone, recognizing that what seemed strange to him was everyday life for the Jamaicans. “They were trying to bring you into their world,” he reflected.
Empathy makes everything better, but in high-stakes moments—with your boss, your loved ones, someone you manage—it’s absolutely game-changing. Those moments of tension or conflict aren’t when you build empathy; they’re when you need it most. If you’ve been practicing empathy, if you’ve built up that foundation of human connection through sharing and acknowledging stories, you’ll have the resources to navigate those challenging moments not just without catastrophe, but as opportunities for growth.
Think about it like this: empathy broadly improves your world and mission, but there’s also an acute value in those moments that really matter—the ones where people often just blow it. Having practiced empathy and built relationships with empathy at their core is what makes those moments less catastrophic and potentially transformative.
This understanding of empathy as an active practice—something we build through sharing and acknowledging stories—is why at Empathable, we create programs that help people walk in others’ shoes through point-of-view experiences and real-time dialogue. These programs give participants the opportunity to practice being empathetic in a supportive environment, strengthening that crucial muscle before they need it most.
The results have been remarkable. Our initial studies have shown not just that clients enjoy and benefit from Empathable, but that we’re seeing an 85% completion rate (compared to the industry average of 20%), a 42% increase in empathy scores (which correlates directly with patient satisfaction), and a 28% increase in feelings of belonging (a key indicator for retention).
But numbers only tell part of the story. The real impact happens in those everyday moments when someone chooses curiosity over judgment, story-sharing over opinion-sharing, connection over division.
So here’s my challenge: practice once this week. Share a story with someone—a friend, spouse, or colleague—and ask them, “What story in your life brought you to that viewpoint?” Be present as they share. Good work should make you feel good, and I believe this will.
Because in the end, we are all collections of millions of memories that make us who we are. And those stories deserve to have time.
If you found this article valuable, I regularly speak on this topic for organizations and would be happy to discuss how we can support your people. Feel free to schedule time to connect here.