Hopping Into An Empathy Trap: Hoppers

Pixar’s 2026 film, Hoppers, depicts empathy through a not-so-figurative metaphor: Mabel, the protagonist, literally steps into the shoes of a beaver. At first glance, this seems like the ultimate act of empathy. She isn’t simply observing animals from the outside; she is now a part of their world, experiencing it alongside them. Yet, Hoppers suggests that physical closeness doesn’t automatically mean that we understand it. 

Mabel begins her journey with a genuine desire to protect the animals around her. However, her urge to help is complicated by her own unprocessed grief. Instead of approaching the animal community in their own terms, she projects her own emotional needs. So the journey to save the animals also turns into a way for Mabel to cope with her own pain.

This situation reveals one of the main problems with empathy: understanding others requires separating their feelings and needs from our own. So in a way, Mabel’s goal of saving the animals reminds us of a popular concept conceptualized by Sigmund Freud: projection. Projection is the psychological defense mechanism of unconsciously attributing our own thoughts and feelings to others. This defense mechanism isn’t necessarily bad or selfish. When we see someone suffering, we feel compelled to imagine how we would feel in the same situation. The problem begins when we assume our imagined experience must be their reality.

That is exactly what’s at play in Hoppers. Mabel believes that she knows what the animals need because she cares so deeply for them. But caring isn’t the same as listening. True empathy requires a bit of curiosity. It requires asking “What do you need from me?” instead of “How can I fix you?” This is a common pitfall in activism and advocacy as well.

The psychological burden of advocacy brings emotional exhaustion and burnout—common among people who dedicate themselves to helping a community. People like Mabel. When an advocate sees themselves as responsible for “saving” others, their identity can become indistinguishable from their cause.

But the solution is not to become less empathetic. Instead, Hoppers suggests that empathy must involve more than caring strongly about someone else. It requires recognizing ourselves and the limits of our own perspective. Helping sometimes can mean acting, but most of the time, it means listening. It means giving people space to define and voice their own needs. Accepting that our “perfect” solution might not even be a “good” solution for them. 

Overall, true empathy isn’t simply putting ourselves into someone else’s shoes— or, in Mabel’s case, fur— but rather, it is setting ourselves aside and accepting that they don’t have to be like us.