Books Aren’t Magic Empathy Pills (But They Help)

Last week I read a really lovely WIRED story by Tess Owen about people who desperately want to deprogram their MAGA-pilled family members and hope to use books to do so. They want to start a meaningful conversation using verifiable facts and beautiful language rather than fighting words, and I find that commendable. I understand the impulse to turn to wishful thinking with the hope that presenting someone with the right work at the right time can cure what divides you. I’ve felt the same. If I could only put Angela Davis or Rebecca Solnit in the right hands, maybe so-and-so would make different choices. I would love to live in that world.

On a publicity tour for my recently published essay collection about how I’ve become radicalized further and further to the left of the political spectrum, I was often asked if and how books played a role in my political reawakening. Books, I said, have profoundly changed how I see the world and non-required reading has always been a significant part of my education (along with journalism and IRL experiences and yes, even social media). I even included a recommended reading list in the back of my book because I have such faith in other people’s writing and want to direct the people who’ve read my book to them.

But every time I answered a question about the importance of books, I wanted to make very clear that I don’t believe that books have the power to enlighten everyone all the time. I’ve read so much about studies that show, in some form or another, that reading fiction is meant to make you more empathetic, that considering someone else’s point of view might help you to gain greater understanding of people who are different from you. I don’t believe that reading is a secret shortcut to empathy. It never was. My pat answer is something like, “I know tons of morally reprehensible people who read good books all the time.”

So no, books aren’t a panacea for society’s ailments, but I do think reading widely gives curious people the tools they need to learn more.

If we learned anything from the anti-racist books craze of a few years ago, it’s gotta be that readers are excellent at compartmentalization. It’s lovely if politically charged books provide for good conversation in the space of one’s book club, but what good do they do if readers can’t apply the takeaways to the outside world? (The secondary lesson is that we should never underestimate the depths of hypocrisy publishers are willing to plumb in order to sell things.)

To truly find enlightenment from the act of reading books, it helps if the reader comes from a place of openness. Much like with political organizing, it’s unwise to start by trying to reach the people whose beliefs are antithetical to your own, who are absolutely set in their ways. The book influencer who is terrified that Zohran Mamdani is going to usher in a new wave of antisemitism to New York City and the world is not going to be the target audience for Omar El Akkad’s essential polemic One Day Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This and that’s okay. Better to approach the liberal voter who has been following news coverage and has begun to feel queasy over America’s role in starving Gaza.

Rather than hoping that specific books will have the power to make change, what if we fought for broader access to all books? What if everyone who believes in the power of books vowed to fight to protect our public libraries and adamantly protest book bans? What if we agitated to keep liberal arts education available and thriving on college campuses (or even in public schools)?

Creative writing, both fiction and nonfiction, have been devalued in many different ways under America’s increasingly fascist regime. We’re stuck in a moment when passive entertainment rules, when books are viewed by the ruling class as strictly utilitarian. Reading for so many of the tech-pilled among us is merely a method by which to upload bullet points to your brain, rather than a sensual endeavor that allows you to get caught up in someone else’s story.

I write about books and literary culture because I believe that they are powerful and important, but I’m not sure that particular book can save the world. But rather than hoping that books alone can make social change, I just want to be sure that the tools to discovering great books will be available if and when a curious reader comes looking.