Moral Gymnastics 101: Stretching Empathy to Excuse Hate
It’s quite the acrobatic feat open with kindness, land in contempt, and still stick the moral landing. These digital do-gooders start with a soft “I care about everyone” stretch, then pirouette into a perfectly rehearsed condemnation of Israel that somehow feels so balanced it could win them a gold medal in Olympic hypocrisy. They don’t hate, heavens no they’re just “asking questions,” “providing nuance,” or “giving context” (the holy trinity of internet innocence). And the crowd goes wild! Likes pour in, retweets soar, and our empathetic gymnast bows graciously unaware that their halo is slipping faster than their argument.
Introduction
Welcome to moral gymnastics 101, where the mat is made of double standards and every sentence begins with a casual, friendly nod something like, “I care about everyone,” or “Let me be clear…” before twisting itself into a pretzel of anti-Israel logic. You’ve seen these routines: a soft landing in empathy, a pirouette into moral complexity, followed by a vault into one-sided condemnation.
The new wave of anti-semitic or anti-Israel sentiment doesn’t always arrive in balaclavas or with torches it comes through social media influencers who start with empathy and neutrality as their entry point. They wrap conspiracy tropes, coded rhetoric, and selective outrage in the language of caring and nuance. The result? Hate that tastes like vanilla. The applause? Viral engagement. So buckle your seatbelt or your metaphorical leotard because I’m going to expose some of these influencers attempt these emotional contortions live.
Candace Owens and the “I Care (Just a Bit)” Opening
Let’s begin with everyone’s favorite moral contortionist: Candace Owens. She’s built a brand on bold statements and unapologetic tones, but lately she’s gotten especially dexterous with the empathy warm-up maneuver.
On her website and through her commentary, she often frames her critiques of Israel (or U.S. support for Israel) with disarming preambles: “I love Jews and respect their history,” she might say, or “No one should excuse violence of any party.” These lines function like entrance music: soft, palatable, uncontroversial until the main show begins. Her critiques then shift rapidly: “But Israel’s actions are oppressive,” “But American taxpayers shouldn’t fund wars,” “But Zionist influence distorts media narratives.” Over time, the “but” becomes the only part we remember. She’s not “anti-Jew,” she insists she’s “anti-policy” or “anti-occupation.”
One telling moment: in her standoff with The Daily Wire, she diverged from longtime allies over her evolving Israel rhetoric. The split was public and messy. Ben Shapiro, a figure I’m certain you’re familiar with, criticized her remarks about “political Jews” and suspicion of a “small ring” of Jews shielding themselves from criticism. That criticism, among others, contributed to her departure. What’s striking is how she primes her audience: with enough empathy to deflect the label of “anti-semite,” then transitions into tropes and insinuations that echo age-old anti-semitic narratives (influence in media, hidden power, dual loyalty). The friendly opener becomes the fig leaf over a deeper agenda.
TYT, Cenk & Ana — Progressive Empathy That Slides into Obsession
If you think this trick is confined to the right, think again. Even progressive platforms sometimes perform the same move—except they wrap it in leftist moral language and human rights tropes. Enter: The Young Turks (TYT) hosts Cenk Uygur and Ana Kasparian.
I reviewed a few clips. In one revealing clip during the beginning of the war, TYT hosts begin by expressing solidarity with Israel in the wake of the Hamas attack words like “We stand with innocent lives” and “All violence is condemnable” fill the screen. For a moment, you think, “Finally a fair start.” But as the segment unfolds, the empathy becomes the warm-up act: soon they pivot into a tirade about occupation, settler violence, “state violence,” and Israeli hypocrisy, all without acknowledging the existential threat Israel faced that day. That opening line of compassion? It wasn’t a promise. It was the mask. And by the end, what began sounding like a balanced moral stance has quietly morphed into a full-blown anti-Israel monologue—empathy as camouflage for contempt. Full clip here.
In another, they latch onto the latest hostage release proclaiming moral solidarity. But predictably, they pivot: “Yes, but” and then proceed to lambaste Israeli state behavior, civilian casualties, and the imbalance of power. What begins as warm humanity becomes a soapbox as illustrated in the entire clip here.
Then there’s the gem where they discuss Ukraine policy (a topic far removed from Israel), yet somehow loop back to Israel as though Israel is the gravitational center of global injustice. “We can’t talk about Ukraine without talking about Israeli militarism…” they say. It’s as if Israel is their intellectual bungee cord: no matter the topic, they snap back to it. See entire video here.
These, of course, are just a few examples of the new influencer playbook. From pundits who wear empathy like a PR badge to commentators who can’t say “Israel” without immediately scheduling a moral disclaimer, the tactic is everywhere. It’s not confined to one ideology or platform it’s a bipartisan sport. The stage may differ, but the choreography is the same: start with compassion, slide into condemnation, and finish with applause from the algorithm. It’s less about conscience and more about content creation outrage dressed up as objectivity.
Conclusion & Call to Awareness
Here’s the takeaway: said aloud, “I care about all lives” sounds like something a decent person would say. But in the hands of moral gymnasts, it becomes rhetorical sleight of hand the cover for a deeper agenda. The “I condemn Hamas, but…” ladder is well-worn. The “neutral” voice is often just a costume change. And the applause from social media isn’t a measure of virtue, just volume.
So what’s to be done about it? My take, first we start by questioning the opener. When someone begins with universal empathy or a calm disclaimer, don’t melt at the tone — wait for the twist. See where their compassion leads. Often, that road ends right back at familiar talking points wrapped in moral packaging. We must learn to read between the polite pauses and spot when “balance” quietly tips the scale. It’s not enough to sound fair — one has to be fair. And when those subtle biases slip into public spaces, whether from the right’s “I’m just being honest” crowd or the left’s “we’re just asking questions” chorus, they need to be called out with precision, not politeness.
Because moral gymnastics may look elegant online, but in reality, they leave truth with a sprained ankle. The time has come to stop applauding the performance and start judging the routine for what it is a carefully choreographed act designed not to reveal humanity, but to hide hypocrisy.

