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Extreme Empathy is a Vice, Not a Virtue


The propensity of women to believe lies, provided they are wrapped in a compelling sob story, is the sad baseline fact that defines our political reality. Empathy is the sort of thing that could be considered a virtue provided a properly ordered worldview. But in an upside-down world, feminine empathy is a vice. Pressing the empathy button not only prompts women to believe lies but also activates them in service of those lies. Once integrated into the political machine, empathy ceases to be the right word. The “devouring mother” archetype comes much closer to the truth of it. 

This tendency is the reason the marketing arm of corporate America began competing on the point of woke philanthropy a few years ago. Isolated consumers, needing to scratch their own empathy itch and signal to peers that they’re “doing the work,” happily reward companies who donate to pet political causes. Since the reversal of Roe v. Wade, this sort of feminist totalitarian impulse has only intensified. Most of the makeup brands you’ll find in Ulta or Sephora pledged a portion of their proceeds to Planned Parenthood. 

It’s really disgusting, upsetting, alienating, and personally compromising for anyone who appreciates beauty but loves Christ more. But here’s some “hope” for us: in response to this, Hope Beauty, who we have mentioned before, recently released a new mascara, with some proceeds being donated to LiveAction, and they sold out in three hours! Sign up for their emails and get ready for the next drop.


Closely tied into the abortion narrative and one of the many lies women have been made to believe over the course of the past century is that being a homemaker is a wasteful and parasitic role meant for low-status, low-IQ third world imports to do while you, an empowered and enlightened modern women, make more glittery pursuits. While this philosophy of careerism remains dominant in the mass culture, glimmers of hopeful rebellion shine brightly. While doing some research for Girlboss, Interrupted (a podcast in which I speak to women who have, in various ways, chipped away at the mainstream feminist narrative) I recently found a couple of mommy bloggers devoted to unpacking and disproving the Big Lie: worth checking out and giving a follow.

First, Megan Madden offers inspiration and reflections on femininity through the imitation of St. Mary and through fashion choices. And, second, Claire Couche’s account “Finding Philothea” is devoted to “learning and sharing the art of living through the way of beauty.” She offers inspiration for beautifying one’s home and life through physical items but also etiquette and tradition. Finally, Emily Fossier’s “Apostolate of Holy Motherhood” is a place of reflection and inspiration for the homemaker based on a book by the same name.


In the same way that affluent white female liberals (AWFLs) are the engine of the woke economy, homemakers will be the engine of the economic paradigm shift that New Founding represents. No matter how you cut it, women are making most consumer choices. So, winning the hearts and minds of women is key. Women making the decision to marry and become homemakers is one of vital political significance. 

Mommy bloggers are great for changing the culture and inspiring women to change–but nothing beats art. A few recent novels have done well to expose the dark underside of the careerist lie; any of these would be a great gift for the young woman in your life. The City Mother by Maya Sinha captures the story of Cara, a woman whose life is thrown into chaos and introspection after she has children in a world that feels unfriendly to them and her. Self-Care by Leigh Stein is a hilarious satire based on the millennial girlboss venture capital moment. The New Me by Halle Butler incisively explores the emotional landscape of young women seeking happiness and success while being emotionally and executively illiterate. All are deeply funny, but tragic, and shed light on the crazy-making conditions of modern womanhood.

Stay sane out there, ladies!

Until next time,

Helen Roy