For Edith Stein (1891–1942), philosopher, Catholic convert, and eventual Carmelite nun, empathy is not merely an emotion nor a mental exercise in putting oneself in another’s shoes. In her early work On the Problem of Empathy (1917), Stein presents empathy as a unique kind of experience — one that is neither imagination nor inference. It is, in her words, a direct, intentional act of consciousness in which we are drawn into the emotional life of another while never losing sight of their distinct identity.
Stein observed that when we empathize, we do not copy or absorb another’s feelings. Instead, we perceive them with immediacy. We see the sorrow in a friend’s face and, in that very moment, we encounter the emotion — not as something we once felt ourselves, but as something freshly present in the other.
It is a first-person experience of someone else’s inner life. Crucially, empathy does not blur the lines between self and other. It allows us to remain ourselves, while genuinely entering, with care and restraint, into the lived experience of another. This balance — of nearness without appropriation — makes empathy not just an emotional act but an ethical one.
Later, as we process what we’ve experienced, we integrate our emotional perception with rational reflection. We begin to articulate and understand the nature of what the other is going through. For Stein, this fusion of affect and intellect forms the heart of intersubjectivity — the ground of true community.
Empathy and (or vs?) AI
In an age increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence, Stein’s insights carry both beauty and warning.
Today’s AI systems can produce what appear to be empathic responses. Chatbots can offer words of comfort, algorithms can detect sadness in a voice or hesitation in a text. These responses may sound convincingly human. But what they lack, Stein would insist, is presence.
The emotional language of AI, no matter how polished, is not rooted in a real lived engagement with another’s experience. It is imitation without consciousness.
That said, artificial intelligence can still serve, not substitute, empathy. AI tools can suggest gentler ways to phrase difficult truths, helping real people communicate with more compassion. When used this way — as an assistant rather than a replacement — AI can amplify and even fine-tune our capacity for attentiveness and care.
Yet the line between support and substitution is thin, and easy to cross.
There is a real risk that as we grow accustomed to machines simulating emotional presence, we might lose the habit of true empathic engagement. Delegating the work of emotional attention to a non-conscious system can erode the very skill we most need to preserve in a fractured world: the ability to see and respond to another’s pain not as data, but as presence.
Edith Stein’s vision of empathy is both demanding and liberating. It calls us not to feel for others in abstract, but to accompany them (and be accompanied) in reality — to encounter them as they are, with minds awake and hearts attuned.
Empathy in this sense is never merely efficient or functional. It is always an act of love. In a time of dazzling machines and fast answers, her thought reminds us that nothing can replace the depth of a truly human encounter.
