Yet Empathy Is What Makes Facts Resonate
In politics, feelings are often treated as facts. Yet, research is showing that people are more concerned about feelings than facts.
The emotional responses of voters — fear, anger, hope — are frequently elevated above objective reality. However, the truth remains: just because someone feels something doesn’t make it factually accurate.
This distinction becomes particularly important as societies grapple with the growing influence of misinformation and disinformation, and the perception that truth itself is up for debate.
As we enter Disinformation Awareness Month – May - a new report from the Institute for Public Relations and Leger underscores how deeply public concern about misinformation has intensified. Many now see disinformation as a threat to their rights, democratic integrity, and social cohesion. Alarmingly, disinformation is also widely seen as a key factor skewing election outcomes and deepening political polarisation.
Social media platforms are consistently cited as major vectors of misinformation, but they’re not alone. Governments, political leaders, brands, and traditional media are all seen as falling short in combating false narratives. This erosion of institutional trust is leading people to turn inward. According to the research, individuals now place greater trust in friends, family, and “people like me” than in mainstream news sources.
The result is a worrying trend: the public’s ability to distinguish fact from fiction is declining. This was evident in the recent Australian federal election. A report by Essential Media showed that only 30% of Australians believed the country was on the right path, while 55% thought it was going in the wrong direction. Economic concerns, particularly the cost of living and housing affordability, were far more pressing to voters than issues like climate change or energy policy.
This prioritisation of emotion over evidence isn't new, but it's growing more dominant. Since the rise of leaders like US President Donald Trump, there has been heightened anxiety that evidence-based arguments are no longer the foundation of political decision-making. Decades of climate change debate, marked more by political manoeuvring than scientific consensus, illustrate how little emotional resonance evidence alone can achieve in shaping policy.
Neuroscience has helped explain this. Studies show that political advertisements activate brain regions linked to fear and emotional processing more than those associated with rational thought. For instance, negative messaging tends to trigger the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex—an area tied to decision-making—more intensely than positive messaging. That’s why political campaigns often lean into fear rather than hope.
In the UK, both major parties in recent elections employed this strategy, framing the world as increasingly “dangerous” and pledging security through policies like the “triple lock” on pensions or nuclear deterrents. British Prime Ministers, like many global leaders, understand that voters are more motivated by a sense of danger than by calm, reasoned assurances.
In crisis management, however, the landscape shifts.
Here, empathy and emotional intelligence become essential.
Leaders who acknowledge public fears, validate concerns, and demonstrate compassion are better positioned to earn trust and guide communities through uncertainty.
Australia may soon face similar tests. If governments are perceived as out of touch with emotional realities—rising mortgage stress, insecure housing, and healthcare concerns—they risk losing public confidence, regardless of what the data says.
In both politics and crisis management, understanding the emotional undercurrents is no longer optional—it's essential.