When Empathy Fails: Understanding Disenfranchised Grief

Disenfranchised grief occurs when empathy fails—when family, friends, and the larger community fail to recognize and support a grieving person. But what I found in my research was even more striking: the fear of empathic failure, where people grieve in silence simply anticipating rejection.

When Empathy Fails: Understanding Disenfranchised Grief
Photo by Nancy Hughes / Unsplash

Have you ever heard the phrase "disenfranchised grief" and really wondered what that meant? Sometimes people automatically label pet loss grief as disenfranchised grief, but what does that really mean for the person experiencing it?

Breaking Down the Word

Let's start with the word "disenfranchise" itself. According to dictionary.com, it's a verb that means "to deprive (a person) of a right or privilege of citizenship, especially the right to vote." Sounds political, right? But here's another definition that gets us closer to understanding the word in the context of grief: "deprived of the rights or privileges of full participation in society or in any community or organization, especially of the opportunity to influence policy or to make one's voice heard."

Now we're getting warmer. Notice the words "deprived" and "society," which are two key factors when considering what this means when coupled with grief.


The Academic Framework

Disenfranchised grief is a type of grief people usually experience when the circumstances surrounding their loved one's death are either stigmatized or not generally accepted and the loss or griever is not acknowledged (Doka, 2019; Marton et al., 2020; Pitcho-Prelorentzos & Mahat-Shamir, 2022). It occurs when the "social rules" of grief have been violated and those unspoken rules that determine who, what, and for how long a person can grieve, and what type of social support they'll receive as a result of the loss.


The Power of Empathic Failure

I was reintroduced to disenfranchised grief in a new and fresh way through my research when I encountered a phrase that stood out to me: "empathic failure" (Doka, 2019; Rosenblatt, 2019). This was profound because it put meaning behind the phrase "disenfranchised grief," more than just being a type of grief that's disenfranchised.

If someone has empathy toward another person, it means they experience the emotions, thoughts, or attitudes of another. So if someone comes to me in an empathetic way when I've lost a loved one, that means they not only provide me with support, but they walk alongside me in that pain. That gives me the right to grieve openly as a result of that validation.

Empathic failure is central to disenfranchised grief. It happens when family, friends, and the larger community fail to recognize and support a grieving person, providing no validation or support.

But what I found particularly striking in my research about pet loss was the fear of empathic failure. Participants reflected on the anxiety of sharing their grief, fearing that it would be met with a lack of understanding or support. This concern often led them to grieve privately, avoiding the potential pain of invalidation. They didn't actually experience the stigma; they just knew it was out there and didn't mourn openly because of the fear it wouldn't be accepted.


Beyond Pet Loss

While pet loss is often labled a disenfranchised grief, it happens in other situations too: grief over a celebrity who died, grief from the loss of a lover where the relationship may have been less than traditional, grief from the loss of people from certain illnesses and circumstances (like suicide, AIDS, or murder), grief experienced from non-death events (like divorce). These types of losses are not mourned in public, not commonly acknowledged, and not supported in society. I could go on and on.

In fact, in writing this, I think there is more disenfranchised grief than there is non-disenfranchised grief.


The Work Test

I think about work when I consider this topic because work is a system where we spend so much time, and work dictates much of our way of life and culture. As I think back on my own grief journey, I remember the loss of my dad and the loss of my mom really being the only deaths that I felt confident going to my boss and saying I needed time off work.

When my sister was murdered, I was in undergrad, so there was no work to go to, but I remember thinking that there was really no one around me in that space who could give me any empathy. When Samson died? Forget it. I had an anxiety attack thinking about calling in to work, and then there were only certain specific people who could know about it.


A Systems Issue

Maybe the disenfranchisement of grief is a systems issue where the concept of losing anything has to fall within certain parameters for people to feel okay walking alongside another. The circumstances surrounding disenfranchised grief can complicate a person's adaptation to loss, leading to additional issues such as heightened emotional reactions, identity disturbance, trouble connecting, and the removal or reduction of sources of support.

The insensitive comments that some people may receive from others—including loved ones and close friends—add to the disenfranchised grief response. The lack of understanding of the importance of various types of bonds is essential in assisting people with support through different kinds of losses.


Why This Matters

I guess it's part of the reason why I created this blog: to make sure that whatever grief is being experienced, I see you.

The first dedication in my dissertation research was to those who grieve in private—you are not alone.

Understanding disenfranchised grief isn't just about putting a label on certain types of loss. It's about recognizing when our society fails to provide empathy and support for legitimate grief experiences. It's about understanding that the "social rules" of grief are often too narrow, leaving many people to grieve alone.

When we understand empathic failure and disenfranchised grief, we can do better. We can be the person who shows up, who validates, who walks alongside someone in their pain—regardless of whether their loss fits society's narrow definition of "acceptable" grief.

Because grief is grief. Love is love. And loss is loss—no matter what form it takes.


References

Doka, K. J. (2019). Changes in postmortem identity and grief. Omega - Journal of Death & Dying, 78(3), 314–326.

Marton, B., Kilbane, T., & Nelson-Becker, H. (2020). Exploring the loss and disenfranchised grief of animal care workers. Death Studies, 44(1), 31–41.

Pitcho-Prelorentzos, S., & Mahat-Shamir, M. (2022). “Empty chairs at empty tables”: Disenfranchisement by association. Omega – Journal of Death and Dying, 84(4), 998–1010.

Rosenblatt, P. C. (2008). Grief across cultures: A review and research agenda. In M. S. Stroebe, R. O. Hansson, H. Schut, & W. Stroebe (Eds.), Handbook of bereavement research and practice: Advances in theory and intervention. (pp. 207–222). American Psychological Association.