Empathy is often described as “feeling what someone else feels,” but that definition has always felt incomplete. If empathy were just an emotional reaction, why do so many people misunderstand others even when they care deeply? Why does empathy sometimes feel automatic and other times impossible?
Empathy isn’t just an emotion. It’s the ability to construct a mental model of an experience you haven’t had. It’s not about guessing how you’d feel in someone else’s place, it’s about accurately simulating how they feel, given their reality, not yours.
This ability exists on a spectrum of complexity. Some people create detailed, nuanced models that allow them to hold multiple perspectives at once. Others build rigid, overly simplistic models that don’t reflect the full picture. The more complex your mental model, the more accurate your empathy. The more rigid or simplistic it is, the more likely you are to assume you understand when you don’t.
People often think they’re being empathetic when they’re really just projecting themselves onto someone else. The phrase, “If I were you, I’d just do this and that,” is a perfect example. That isn’t empathy, it’s assumption. It’s applying your own mindset to someone else’s reality instead of recognizing that their world might operate by entirely different rules.
True empathy isn’t just imagining yourself in someone else’s shoes. It’s realizing that their shoes aren’t shaped like yours in the first place. This explains why some people emotionally resonate with others but still misunderstand them. Feeling deeply isn’t enough. If the internal model of the other person’s experience is flawed, their empathy will be flawed too. This is why some people seem emotionally detached but are actually excellent at understanding others, while others feel everything but get it wrong. Empathy is about how well we construct, refine, and hold multiple perspectives.
DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) already teaches validation, distress tolerance, and Wise Mind, all of which rely on an accurate perception of others. But what if empathy were treated as a trainable skill rather than just an emotional trait? Validation in DBT isn’t just about agreeing with someone but about correctly understanding their experience. If your mental model of their emotions is inaccurate, your validation will be too. Empathy isn’t just about listening; it’s about actively refining your perception of what the other person is experiencing. Instead of assuming how someone feels, DBT could encourage a reality check, asking clarifying questions to refine your model instead of treating it as fact. Instead of saying, “I know you’re mad,” try, “I feel like you might be upset, but I could be wrong. What’s going on for you?” This small shift moves empathy from a static assumption to an ongoing, flexible process.
DBT’s Wise Mind framework also applies to empathy. When someone is in Emotion Mind, their empathy can become distorted by their own emotions, leading them to over-identify or misinterpret. They assume they know how the other person feels because they are reacting from their own emotional state. When someone is in Reasonable Mind, they might intellectually understand another’s situation but lack emotional resonance. They see what’s happening logically, but they don’t feel it in a way that allows them to connect. Wise Mind empathy is the ability to hold an accurate, flexible mental model of someone else’s reality, integrating both logic and emotional resonance. It means not just understanding someone intellectually but feeling with clarity rather than assumption. We tend to think of empathy as an unlimited resource, but DBT reminds us that we only have so much emotional and cognitive bandwidth. When overwhelmed, the brain loses its ability to construct complex mental models.
This is why sometimes, even when we deeply care about someone, we struggle to empathize. It’s not a failure of character but more a reflection of mental capacity in the moment. Instead of forcing ourselves to be more empathetic when we’re emotionally drained, DBT could encourage recognizing when we don’t have the capacity to model someone else’s experience accurately. In those moments, the best response might not be “I need to be more empathetic” but rather “I need to step back before I misinterpret this person’s reality.”
If empathy is a trainable cognitive skill, that changes how we think about it. Instead of treating it as an inherent trait, we can focus on developing and refining it. It also challenges the assumption that people with strong emotions are naturally more empathetic. Some are, but others might be feeling deeply while misunderstanding completely. Likewise, people who seem emotionally detached might actually have a highly developed ability to construct accurate mental models of others.
This also raises important questions about how we approach relationships, communication, and even therapy. If empathy is a cognitive process, should we be teaching it in the same way we teach logic, creativity, or problem-solving? What if people struggling with relationships aren’t emotionally distant, but just lack the ability to build flexible, accurate mental models of others? How often do we assume we understand someone when, in reality, we’re working with an outdated or incomplete empathy model? Empathy isn’t just about kindness. It’s about how well we can simulate realities beyond our own. And if that’s a skill, then it’s something we can and should develop.