Conservatism: America’s Empathy Disorder

鬼百合

One day we will wake to his obituary :-)

Conservatism: America’s Empathy Disorder​

A corrections officer turned researcher discovers that the psychological traits defining prison life, callousness, dominance, and empathy deficits, have escaped the cellblocks and now shape our politics​


Rupert Murdoch eating brunch. Aug, 19 2026
Every morning at the prison where I worked, I’d pass through the same ritual. Badge in. Keys collected. Radio check. Then the walk through the sally port into a world where empathy was a liability and cruelty a currency. What I didn’t expect was how much that world would teach me about the one outside the wire, about the officers who guarded, the politicians who governed, and the invisible psychological threads connecting them all.

The dayroom was where you could see it most clearly. Inmates would cluster around the television, not for sports or soap operas, but for politics. These men, part of a population where researchers have found roughly 65% meet criteria for antisocial personality disorder and 80% have at least one personality disorder according to a comprehensive Lancet review by Fazel and Danesh (2002), would watch Fox News with religious devotion, cheering for Trump like he was their personal champion. “He tells it like it is,” they’d say. “He’s a fighter, like us.”

In my observation, the sex offenders seemed to express the most frequent adoration and fealty for Trump.
These men, who’d violated the most fundamental boundaries of human empathy, appeared to find something familiar in a politician who bragged about grabbing women “by the pussy,” who had been found liable for sexual abuse in the E. Jean Carroll case, who treated women’s bodies as territory to be conquered. They’d gather closest to the TV when he spoke, nodding along when he denied accusations, claimed victimhood, attacked his accusers. It was a pattern I couldn’t unsee: men convicted of predatory crimes identifying with rhetoric that mirrored their own rationalizations.

At first, I dismissed it as irony. Then I started paying attention to the officers’ break room.

The conversations were often eerily similar. My fellow Officers, who were almost universally conservatives, would spend time every day talking about their love of Donald Trump and would rail against “socialist” policies while collecting union-negotiated salaries that dwarfed what their counterparts made in “free-market” red states. In Washington, correctional officers average around $45 an hour according to state data, while in states like Texas or Florida, the low-tax havens they praised, the same job pays roughly half that.

Many officers I worked with seemed to have troubled family lives, a pattern that aligns with research showing law enforcement faces domestic violence rates as high as 40% in some studies (Neidig et al., 1992), compared to 10% in the general population. One colleague, going through his third divorce, once told me that “kindness gets you killed in here,” meaning the prison. But I knew he lived by that rule everywhere, at home, at the ballot box, in every human interaction reduced to a zero-sum game of dominance and submission.

I began to see a pattern that my psychology training wouldn’t let me ignore: the same personality traits that concentrated behind bars, what psychologists call the “dark triad” of psychopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism, were appearing throughout our political system. The empathy deficits that defined prison life weren’t confined to cellblocks. They were running for office, hosting talk shows, and writing legislation.

This wasn’t just my observation. Hard neuroscience backs it up. When researchers at Tel Aviv University (Zebarjadi et al., 2023) put conservatives and liberals in magnetoencephalography scanners while asking them to imagine others’ suffering, they found something striking: conservative brains literally showed less activation in empathy-related regions like the anterior insula and anterior cingulate cortex. The difference was visible on the scans, liberal brains showing significantly stronger neural responses to others’ pain, while conservative brains remained comparatively muted.

The effect intensified with political extremity. The study of 55 participants found that the more someone endorsed right-wing authoritarian values, the weaker their neural empathy response. The researchers noted it was as if the conservative brain’s empathy circuits were “dialed down”, not broken, but muted by default.

This finding aligns with earlier work by Darren Schreiber and colleagues (2013), who scanned Democrats and Republicans during a risk-taking task. They found Democrats showing heightened activity in the left insula (associated with social emotions and empathy), while Republicans lit up in the right amygdala, the brain’s fear and threat-detection center. The researchers observed that brain activity alone could predict party affiliation with 82.9% accuracy, suggesting these neural differences are fundamental to political identity.

The personality psychology tells the same story. A comprehensive review by Stephen Morris (2020) in the Journal of Social and Political Psychology found that empathy has become “a hallmark of the political left,” with trait empathy scores consistently predicting liberal attitudes across dozens of studies. The Pew Research Center’s 2014 data is particularly telling: 86% of consistently liberal parents say teaching empathy is “especially important” for children, compared to just 55% of consistently conservative parents, a 31-point gap in valuing compassion itself.

But here’s where it gets interesting, and where my experience in corrections becomes relevant. The same psychological profile that defines criminality also appears, in attenuated form, throughout conservative institutions. Psychologist Robert Hare, who developed the Psychopathy Checklist, found in his book “Snakes in Suits” (2006) that about 4% of senior corporate executives meet clinical criteria for psychopathy, four times the rate in the general population. In prisons, estimates range from 15–25% according to Hare’s research. As executive recruiter Paul Babiak noted in collaboration with Hare, if you work as a prison warden and later attend a CEO gala, you’re encountering similar percentages of psychopaths, “just one’s in jail and one’s not.”

Now, before this becomes a simplistic “conservatives bad, liberals good” narrative, let me complicate the picture. Research by Costello et al. (2022) found that left-wing authoritarianism, while less common than right-wing authoritarianism in the U.S., shows similar patterns of aggression and punitive attitudes toward perceived enemies. The far left has its own capacity for cruelty and dehumanization.

But there’s a crucial difference. Even the most militant leftists, whether anti-fascist activists who assault opponents or environmental radicals who spike trees, are typically fighting for others: strangers they’ll never meet, future generations, non-human animals. Their empathy might be misdirected or expressed through violence, but it exists. They can engage in what psychologists call cognitive empathy, understanding and caring about others’ experiences even when not feeling them directly.

The right-wing extremists I encountered in corrections were different. Their circle of concern was tight: family, race, nation. Outside that circle, empathy simply didn’t register.

The right-wing extremists were different. Their circle of concern was tight, family, race, nation, political party. Outside that circle, empathy simply didn’t register. Research by Waytz and colleagues (2016) confirms this pattern: conservatives don’t necessarily lack empathy entirely, but they restrict it to their in-group, while liberals extend empathy more universally. When a Proud Boy type told me he’d die for his “brothers,” I believed him. When he called immigrants “invading vermin,” I believed that too.
 
When a retired cop and on his second career as a Corrections Officer told me he “would go to D.C. and die for Trump” I had to believe it as well.
The empathy was real but strictly bounded, like a spotlight that could only illuminate a small, familiar stage while leaving the rest of the human experience in darkness.

This pattern scales up to mainstream politics. Research on Social Dominance Orientation (SDO), preference for hierarchy and group dominance, by Sidanius and Pratto (1999) shows it correlates strongly with both conservative ideology and reduced empathy. A 2013 longitudinal study by Sidanius et al. found that high-SDO individuals don’t just lack empathy; they show “counter-empathy” or schadenfreude when out-groups suffer. Brain imaging by Hudson et al. (2020) confirms this: when watching others in pain, high-SDO individuals show reduced activity in the pain matrix regions that normally fire in empathic response.

These aren’t just academic abstractions. They shape real policies with body counts. According to 2022 Commonwealth Fund data, states with abortion bans, invariably conservative, have maternal mortality rates 62% higher than states protecting reproductive rights (28.8 vs. 17.8 deaths per 100,000 births). The Gender Equity Policy Institute reported in 2025 that pregnant people in ban states are “almost twice as likely to die during pregnancy or shortly after birth.”

Texas exemplifies this crisis. According to state health department data analyzed by ProPublica, Texas’s maternal mortality rate jumped 56% in 2022, the first full year after their abortion ban, compared to an 11% national increase. The state’s maternal mortality rate rose 33% from 2019 to 2023, even as the national rate fell by 7.5%. Women are literally dying from policies enacted by legislators who cannot imagine themselves in a woman’s position facing a dangerous pregnancy.

The same empathy deficit explains the partisan split on welfare. In experimental research by Feldman, Huddy, and colleagues (2020), inducing empathy, having people imagine themselves in poverty, increased support for social programs among most participants. But they found something disturbing: among strong conservatives with high individualism scores, empathy interventions actually backfired. When forced to contemplate others’ suffering, they actively suppressed their empathic response. They could feel for a church’s soup kitchen recipient but shut down emotionally for the same person on food stamps, empathy contingent on perceived deservingness.

Climate change follows the pattern. An Associated Press analysis in 2024 found that the five states accounting for 61% of U.S. heat deaths in recent years, Arizona, Texas, Nevada, Florida, and Louisiana, are all Republican strongholds that have resisted climate action. The National Bureau of Economic Research documented that North Carolina farm workers suffer heat-related illness at 5 to 10 times the rate of urban workers, and are 35 times more likely to die from heat than workers in other industries. Yet many of these same rural communities consistently vote for politicians who deny climate science and oppose protective regulations. It’s the policy equivalent of an inmate rejecting medical care to prove his toughness, a pose that impresses the yard but shortens your life.

What troubles me most, looking back, is how these traits spread. In prison, new officers would arrive with normal empathy levels. Within months, they’d adopt the callousness they believed necessary to survive. The least compromising or considerate ones were the most revered. The compassionate ones quit or got hardened.

Part of why I left, was I saw my own personality shifting in ways I didn’t like. I recognized that being around inmates who were incredibly skilled manipulators and liars, it required I adopt a deeply paranoid framing and assume the worst in people. This didn’t just “shut off” when I’d go home after shift.
Research by Toch (2002) on correctional officer culture confirms this pattern: the profession systematically selects for and reinforces authoritarian attitudes and emotional detachment.

I see the same selection pressure in politics. The conservative media ecosystem rewards cruelty. A 2023 study by researchers at Stanford found that Twitter’s algorithm specifically amplifies “emotionally charged, out-group hostile content.” Facebook’s own internal research, revealed in 2018 whistleblower documents, showed their engagement-based ranking was “making Facebook an angrier place” by disproportionately rewarding “outrage” content.

The parasocial relationships audiences form with right-wing media figures compound this effect. A 2023 analysis of 21,000 podcast reviews found that conservative and far-right shows displayed significantly more intense emotional loyalty to hosts than mainstream programs. When someone like Tucker Carlson, who once ran a segment mocking dying AIDS patients, becomes a trusted “friend” to millions, his modeled callousness becomes contagious.

The prison mirror reflects perfectly here: just as inmates must perform toughness to maintain status, conservative politicians must perform cruelty. Expressing empathy for the wrong group, immigrants, trans kids, the poor, marks you as weak, a “RINO” who’ll get primaried. The 2013 House vote on SNAP cuts exemplified this: 217 Republicans voted to slash food stamps by $40 billion, with not a single Democrat supporting it. The incentive structure selects for empathy deficits.

I left law enforcement eventually, but the lessons stayed with me. That prison dayroom where inmates cheered for Trump while officers in the break room did the same, it wasn’t an anomaly. It was America in microcosm. The same psychological traits that put some men behind bars put others in boardrooms and state houses. The difference wasn’t virtue but circumstance, class, race, the luck of when and where their dark triad traits manifested.

Political scientist Brian Klaas’s research bears this out: the most intelligent psychopaths disproportionately ascend to positions of power, while their less fortunate counterparts fill our prisons. We’ve organized society to reward in the penthouse what we punish in the penitentiary. A poor person with antisocial traits might rob a liquor store and get 20 years. A rich one might crash the economy through predatory lending and get a government bailout. The trait is the same; only the expression and consequences differ.

But here’s what gives me hope: empathy can be rebuilt. Van Berkhout and Malouff’s (2016) meta-analysis of 18 randomized controlled trials found empathy training produces significant improvements (Hedges’ g ≈ 0.5). Even psychopaths have empathy circuits that can activate when explicitly instructed to perspective-take, according to brain imaging by Keysers et al. (2013), they have an “empathy switch” that’s off by default but not broken. Children with callous-unemotional traits can develop empathy through specialized interventions like Parent-Child Interaction Therapy, with gains persisting months after treatment (Kimonis et al., 2019).

The challenge is that American conservatism, particularly in its current form, has become an ideology that systematically suppresses these interventions. It rewards the prison mentality, dominate or be dominated, trust only your tribe, see kindness as weakness. It’s created a political movement that mirrors the psychological dynamics of incarceration, complete with gang colors (red hats), protection rackets (vote for us or the criminals/immigrants/socialists will get you), and a might-makes-right moral code.

Walking out of that prison for the last time, I remember thinking how arbitrary the distinction felt between those inside and those outside, not in terms of actions, but psychology. The same empathy disorders, the same dark triad traits, the same us-versus-them tribalism. The only difference was which side of the razor wire they stood on.


Now, watching our politics devolve into cycles of cruelty and revenge, I see that the prison didn’t just mirror society, society is becoming the prison. The empathy deficit that defines life behind bars has escaped into our legislatures, our media, our neighborhoods. We’re all in the dayroom now, choosing whether to cheer for those who promise to hurt the right people or those who insist, against all the current incentives, that everyone deserves compassion.

The data is clear: this is not a both-sides problem. While extremism in any direction can corrupt empathy, the mainstream American right has institutionalized empathy suppression as a virtue. They’ve built an entire ecosystem, from media to policy, that rewards callousness and punishes compassion. They’ve taken the psychological architecture of the prison and made it a political platform.

But prisons can be reformed. Guards can be retrained. Even some inmates, with the right interventions, can rediscover their humanity. The question is whether we have the will to recognize the prison we’re building around ourselves, and more importantly, whether we have the empathy to tear it down before the walls become permanent.

The morning ritual continues somewhere, badge in, keys collected, radio check. But the real prison, I’ve learned, isn’t built with concrete and razor wire. It’s built from the gradual deadening of our ability to see each other as human. And unlike the physical prison I left behind, we’re all both guards and inmates in this one, choosing every day whether to turn the empathy knob up or down, whether to widen our circle of concern or shrink it to nothing.

The data says we know which choice leads to a functioning society. The question is whether we’ll make it before the cell door slams shut for good.

About the Author

If this article resonated with you, you can explore these themes in much greater depth in my book, Conservatism: America’s Personality Disorder. Drawing from my experiences as an Air Force veteran, corrections officer, and researcher, the book provides a comprehensive examination of how empathy deficits shape our political landscape, from the neuroscience of partisan brains to the real-world consequences in policy and media.

The full work includes chapters on everything from the parallels between prison psychology and corporate leadership, to how right-wing media cultivates callousness, to whether empathy can be rebuilt in our fractured society. It’s an unflinching diagnosis of our political moment, backed by rigorous research and lived experience.

Conservatism: America’s Personality Disorder is available on Amazon:
 
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