Using Animal Compassion to Understand Why We Struggle to Care at Scale

By Nancy Nuñez and Emiliano Rodriguez Nuesch

Stories of animals in distress often go viral, instantly sparking public emotion and global attention. We rally to rescue a whale, mourn a lone elephant, or celebrate a squirrel’s survival. But why do these stories feel so powerful—and what do they reveal about how human compassion works (and sometimes fails)?

Understanding how we emotionally respond to animals helps us grasp deeper patterns in our psychology—ones that also shape our responses to humanitarian crises, climate change, and social injustice. These moments of empathy are more than just heartwarming. They’re windows into the arithmetic of compassion—how we care, when we care, and why sometimes we don't.

Prestige and Moral Attention: Dolly and the Polo Horses

When Dolly the Sheep was cloned in 1996, the world watched in awe. In 2024, Argentine scientists used CRISPR to create genetically edited polo horses based on a champion mare. Both stories made headlines—not just for the science, but for the spectacle.

This is moral attention at work: we focus on innovation, fame, and individual stories, while the suffering of millions of animals in factory farms or on the streets goes unnoticed.

We care more when an animal is famous, elite, or symbolic. But that leaves countless others invisible.

Dolly the Sheep / Getty Images

Image Reuters

Empathy Bias: Why We Care More About Polar Bears Than Bats

A polar bear stranded on melting ice grabs our hearts. It’s majestic, photogenic, and a powerful symbol of climate change. But animals like bats, insects, or deep-sea fish? They rarely get the same emotional reaction—even if they’re just as threatened.

This is empathy bias: we feel more for animals that seem cute, noble, or relatable. That bias shapes which species get attention, funding, and protection.

The result? Entire ecosystems are disappearing—and we don’t even notice.

Here’s how four core concepts come to life in stories we’ve featured: 

1. Psychic Numbing: Why One Squirrel Feels More Than a Thousand Species

We’re wired to feel for individuals, not numbers. Take Peanut the Squirrel—a small animal with a big impact. Her story moved people to tears, inspired action, and became a symbol of everyday compassion. But if we hear that thousands of squirrels—or entire species—are vanishing? That rarely hits the same emotional chord.

This is psychic numbing: our minds shut down when confronted with large-scale suffering. We can grasp one life. We struggle to feel for many. Read more about Peanut the Squirrel and the Power of Compassion

2. Pseudoinefficacy: The “What’s the Point?” Problem

One animal rescue can go viral and offer a glimmer of hope. But sometimes, that very story can trigger the opposite reaction: if this one hippo made it, what about the thousands we can’t save?

This is pseudoinefficacy—when our efforts feel meaningless because we can't solve the whole problem. The more we realize how vast the issue is, the more our motivation to help one fades. Explore this further in The Pygmy Hippo: viral fame and real-life consequences

3. Compassionate Conservation: When Doing Good Gets Complicated

Sometimes, helping one group means harming another.

Conservationists working with the Spotted Owl vs. Barred Owl dilemma face a heartbreaking choice: protect a threatened species, or prevent killing another? It’s a no-win situation.

This is the complexity of compassionate conservation—and it echoes the difficult trade-offs we make in social policy, healthcare, and crisis response every day. Delve into the dilemma in Northern Spotted Owl vs. Barred Owl: The Ethical Conundrum of Compassionate Conservation

Left: Northern spotted owl. Right: Barred owl. Credit: Bureau of Land Management Oregon and Washington, CC BY 2.0; Jim Oskam, CC BY-NC 2.0.


4. Moral Attention and the Media: What We Care About Depends on What We See

People get emotionally invested in bringing back extinct animals like dire wolves—even though they’ve been gone for thousands of years. Meanwhile, real species facing extinction right now go unnoticed.

This is a distortion of moral attention: our compassion is often driven not by urgency or importance, but by what’s visible, dramatic, or nostalgic. Unpack this further in Moral Uncanniness of De-Extinction and Our Empathy for Dire Wolves 

How to Take Action

Recognizing how our compassion works—and where it falls short—gives us a rare opportunity: to shift from emotional reflex to intentional care.

While viral stories spotlight a lucky few animals, thousands more are protected quietly, every day, by people and groups working far from the headlines. They rescue street dogs, defend vanishing species, fight cruelty in farms and labs, and remind us that every life, famous or not, deserves dignity.

If these patterns resonate with you, consider connecting with organizations that turn compassion into daily practice—groups like IFAW, World Wild Fund for Nature and The Humane Society International.

You don’t have to go viral to make an impact. Sometimes, the most powerful compassion is the kind no one sees—but still chooses to show up.