Why ‘others have it harder’ is a form of empathy bypassing

When we minimize our suffering with statements like “I shouldn’t complain—others have it much harder than me,” it can seem evolved, empathetic, even wise. In professional culture, this phrase often earns admiration. It signals gratitude, resilience, and perspective. However, beneath that polished humility lies a psychological defense mechanism that can quietly block emotional growth.

That mindset reflects a subtle form of emotional bypassing, which is the tendency to sidestep uncomfortable emotions by rationalizing them away. This ends up muting, rather than healing. It may seem like a sign of maturity. However, empathy bypassing often prevents us from engaging honestly with our own reality, particularly in high-performance environments where vulnerability already feels risky.

The psychology of bypassing

The term bypassing comes from psychologist John Welwood, who described spiritual bypassing in the 1980s as the use of spiritual or moral reasoning to avoid painful emotions. In modern workplaces, bypassing shows up less as spirituality and more as rationalization. It’s the act of layering gratitude or perspective over stress until feelings become invisible.

Bypassing certainly played a part in my journey toward a catastrophic burnout as a corporate finance lawyer. When colleagues around me experienced layoffs, I buried my misery. Complaining about my situation as a high-flying young solicitor at a Magic Circle firm felt indulgent, and potentially dangerous to my career.

This kind of thinking might seem admirable, but research shows that emotional suppression increases stress responses rather than soothing them. Avoidance may feel like composure in the short term, but over time, failing to acknowledge what we’re feeling can amplify pressure and fatigue.

Why ‘others have it harder’ feels so right to say

It’s easy to see why this phraseology feels comforting. After all, it comes with values we admire—gratitude, compassion, and humility. Recognizing that others face greater obstacles fosters perspective and keeps self-pity in check, which are two vital traits for emotional intelligence. However, when this sentiment becomes habitual, it can cross an invisible line from awareness to avoidance.

Psychologist Kristin Neff notes that true self-compassion depends on acknowledging suffering—not ranking it. When we tell ourselves our pain is less valid because others have it worse, we’re confusing empathy with denial. We treat compassion as a zero-sum game, where we see attending to our own emotions as somehow stealing from others. In truth, self-compassion is critical to our capacity to express compassion to those around us. By acknowledging our own pain, we improve our ability to have a genuine understanding of another’s.

When empathy becomes avoidance

Empathy bypassing is one of the most elegant—and dangerous—forms of denial. When we minimize our emotions, we distort the feedback loop that helps us understand our limits and boundaries. Over time, what begins as realism morphs into guilt.

A 2019 study found that people who habitually minimize their own distress report greater anxiety and reduced well-being. The protective act of “keeping perspective” can end up silently draining your mental health. In professional settings, this often manifests as people downplaying the level of stress they’re experiencing or leaders who feel undeserving of support. They tell themselves they’re “grateful”—but that gratitude quietly erases their need for care. It causes us to isolate, creating even further harm.

I’ve noticed this tendency in myself recently in light of global events. Gratitude is an invaluable psychological experience, and building it consciously improves perspective. But when it acts as a lightning rod for all our suffering, it can drastically undermine our emotional well-being.

The paradox is that when we’re empathy bypassing, we seem composed. In fact, the opposite is happening; we’re actually detached. It might look like strength, but it’s often suppression. And while culture might reward suppression, it actually ends up reducing both resilience and innovation, which are two qualities that workforces rely on most.

The cultural cost of constant perspective

Many organizations unintentionally reinforce this pattern through what might be called performative positivity. Gratitude campaigns, “resilience bootcamps,” and culture slogans about toughness can (if you don’t implement them effectively) make emotional honesty feel out of bounds at work.

When “others have it harder” becomes an unspoken moral code, employees begin to silence legitimate concerns. Burnout turns into a badge of endurance. People start seeing expressions of vulnerability as complaints. The result is a well-intentioned culture that values gratitude—but punishes truth.

This is where psychological safety comes in. Workplaces where people feel free to express emotions and admit struggle are more collaborative and productive. When employees believe that only unshakeable optimism is acceptable, performance may rise temporarily, but authenticity declines. This leads to a slow erosion of trust disguised as high engagement.

The key to balancing gratitude and honesty

To move past self-bypassing, we need to treat empathy for others and honesty with ourselves as complementary, not contradictory. The key is integration and allowing multiple realities to exist at once. We can be grateful for having work and still find that work exhausting. We can recognize that someone else is struggling more severely and still acknowledge our frustration or disappointment. Emotional integrity lies in holding both truths without collapsing one into the other.

Practicing a more honest form of kindness

So how can professionals engage with their struggles without slipping into self-erasure? Start by noticing how often gratitude includes a “but.” Instead of thinking, “I’m stressed, but others have it worse,” try, “I’m stressed, and others have it worse.” That small change—replacing but with and—creates space for paradox and complexity. It permits you to feel what’s true without diminishing empathy for others.

Leaders can model this integration publicly. Admitting limits isn’t weakness: it’s acknowledging psychological reality. By acknowledging your own pressures without minimizing them, you create environments where emotional honesty coexists with performance. Plenty of research shows that self-compassion actually strengthens motivation and resilience, not erodes them. The same principle applies across teams: Acknowledging difficulty deepens accountability, because people who feel seen and valued tend to feel engaged, too.

The importance of feeling fully

There’s nothing inherently wrong with acknowledging that “others have it harder”—but kindness without self-inclusion becomes self-neglect. In a culture obsessed with optimism, the quiet act of acknowledging one’s limits can be a radical form of strength. You don’t build real resilience through comparison, you forge it through integration—the ability to stand firmly in one’s humanity, even when others’ suffering looms larger.

When we stop ranking pain and start recognizing it, we trade moral comfort for genuine integrity. And in doing so, we not only become kinder humans—we become more honest ones too.