Professor Anne Herrmann-Werner
Director of TIME - Tübingen Institute for Medical Education at the University of Tübingen, and a physician specialised in Psychosomatic Medicine and Psychotherapy
Empathy is a key component of good medical practice. An empathetic attitude helps to build trust between doctor and patient, creates a sense of safety, and can be crucial in stressful or sensitive situations, ensuring that patients feel understood and taken seriously.
In my daily work as a Professor of Medical Education and as a physician specialised in Psychosomatic Medicine and Psychotherapy, I see that many students begin their training with a relatively high level of emotional empathy. Yet studies show that empathy tends to decline over the course of medical school—particularly when the focus rests almost exclusively on technical and clinical knowledge and when time pressure increases.
Precisely for this reason, I am convinced that empathy in medical education must not be treated as a “nice-to-have” add-on, but as a core competence—alongside diagnosis, treatment, and technical skills. Only with empathy can genuine medical care be provided: recognising patients as human beings, taking their needs, fears, and concerns seriously, building trust, and thereby promoting both health and well-being.
At TIME – Tübingen Institute for Medical Education, we therefore explore how empathy can be systematically learned and continuously developed. To this end, we combine evidence-based teaching approaches and theoretical frameworks with experience-based methods.
Practical exercises such as role plays, simulation training with standardised patients, and video analysis of consultations enable learners to try out empathetic behaviours in concrete situations, receive feedback, and develop alternative communication strategies. In some of our current research projects, we are also investigating how AI and VR can be used to foster empathy.
Initiatives such as the ERUDiTE project further demonstrate how empathy can be systematically nurtured, taught, and sustained in the long term. Such an approach—towards empathy-based medicine—can significantly enhance the quality of medical care while helping to build a healthy and sustainable professional ethos for future generations of medical and nursing professionals.
That is our goal at TIME – Tübingen Institute for Medical Education: better medical education for better healthcare
In my daily work as a Professor of Medical Education and as a physician specialised in Psychosomatic Medicine and Psychotherapy, I see that many students begin their training with a relatively high level of emotional empathy. Yet studies show that empathy tends to decline over the course of medical school—particularly when the focus rests almost exclusively on technical and clinical knowledge and when time pressure increases.
Precisely for this reason, I am convinced that empathy in medical education must not be treated as a “nice-to-have” add-on, but as a core competence—alongside diagnosis, treatment, and technical skills. Only with empathy can genuine medical care be provided: recognising patients as human beings, taking their needs, fears, and concerns seriously, building trust, and thereby promoting both health and well-being.
At TIME – Tübingen Institute for Medical Education, we therefore explore how empathy can be systematically learned and continuously developed. To this end, we combine evidence-based teaching approaches and theoretical frameworks with experience-based methods.
Practical exercises such as role plays, simulation training with standardised patients, and video analysis of consultations enable learners to try out empathetic behaviours in concrete situations, receive feedback, and develop alternative communication strategies. In some of our current research projects, we are also investigating how AI and VR can be used to foster empathy.
Initiatives such as the ERUDiTE project further demonstrate how empathy can be systematically nurtured, taught, and sustained in the long term. Such an approach—towards empathy-based medicine—can significantly enhance the quality of medical care while helping to build a healthy and sustainable professional ethos for future generations of medical and nursing professionals.
That is our goal at TIME – Tübingen Institute for Medical Education: better medical education for better healthcare
Professor Dorota Włodarczyk
Health psychologist and Head of the Department of Health Psychology at the Medical University of Warsaw (WUM) and the Department of Clinical Health Psychology at the university’s Central Clinical Hospital. She also works in the University Counselling Services for WUM’s students.
When I meet medical students in our Medical Psychology and Communication courses, I often observe a display of apparent certainty, while behind the doors of the University Counselling Services, I hear a quiet confession: “I am afraid I will never be good enough for this profession.” Behind the white coat, there is frequently a mixture of ambition, self-doubt, and fear of harming patients. Empathy - directed not only outward but also inward, for example, in the form of self-compassion - can transform this fragile moment into an opportunity for growth, rather than a step toward burnout.
Empathy fosters self-reflection. When students learn to recognise their own emotions in clinical situations and to treat them with the same respect they offer patients, they begin to understand that anxiety and uncertainty are not signs of incompetence, but natural signals that can guide learning. In our medical communication curriculum, we invite them to analyse encounters not only in terms of “What did I do?” but also “What did I feel and what did the patient possibly feel?” This shift gradually increases their sense of agency: “I can notice, I can respond, I can improve.”
With students, empathy is essential for creating an environment where learning can actually happen. When teachers show genuine interest in students’ perspectives and difficulties, it becomes easier to ask questions, admit “I don’t know”, and recover from mistakes. This does not mean lowering standards. It means holding high expectations, while recognizing the very human process of growth behind every exam result or clinical performance.
There are also important nuances related to individual differences. Some students underestimate their competence despite excellent performance; others have been socialized to suppress emotions and project invulnerability. Empathic mentoring, where teachers acknowledge these patterns and validate different ways of coping, helps students build a professional identity that is authentic, rather than purely role driven.
I remember a young doctor who felt devastated after a difficult conversation with a patient’s family. Instead of offering quick technical advice, we explored together what had been painful for her and what she had tried to protect in herself and in the family. She left not only with a communication strategy, but with increased confidence that she could face such situations in the future.
For me, empathy is therefore not just a moral ideal. It is a strategic resource for self-efficacy. It supports resilience, realistic self-assessment, and the courage to remain human in a demanding profession.
Empathy fosters self-reflection. When students learn to recognise their own emotions in clinical situations and to treat them with the same respect they offer patients, they begin to understand that anxiety and uncertainty are not signs of incompetence, but natural signals that can guide learning. In our medical communication curriculum, we invite them to analyse encounters not only in terms of “What did I do?” but also “What did I feel and what did the patient possibly feel?” This shift gradually increases their sense of agency: “I can notice, I can respond, I can improve.”
With students, empathy is essential for creating an environment where learning can actually happen. When teachers show genuine interest in students’ perspectives and difficulties, it becomes easier to ask questions, admit “I don’t know”, and recover from mistakes. This does not mean lowering standards. It means holding high expectations, while recognizing the very human process of growth behind every exam result or clinical performance.
There are also important nuances related to individual differences. Some students underestimate their competence despite excellent performance; others have been socialized to suppress emotions and project invulnerability. Empathic mentoring, where teachers acknowledge these patterns and validate different ways of coping, helps students build a professional identity that is authentic, rather than purely role driven.
I remember a young doctor who felt devastated after a difficult conversation with a patient’s family. Instead of offering quick technical advice, we explored together what had been painful for her and what she had tried to protect in herself and in the family. She left not only with a communication strategy, but with increased confidence that she could face such situations in the future.
For me, empathy is therefore not just a moral ideal. It is a strategic resource for self-efficacy. It supports resilience, realistic self-assessment, and the courage to remain human in a demanding profession.
Professor Ovidiu Popa-Velea
Head of the Department of Medical Psychology at the “Carol Davila” University of Medicine and Pharmacy in Bucharest, with specializations in Pulmonary Medicine, Health Psychology and Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy.
As a physician, psychotherapist, and researcher in the field of Medical Psychology, I have learned that teams, not individuals, deliver most of modern healthcare. In such teams, empathy is often the difference between constructive collaboration and quiet sabotage. I recall a multidisciplinary case conference where tension arose between surgeons and Palliative Care specialists. Each side felt the other was “not understanding the reality” of the oncological patient we were discussing. Only when we paused to explore what each team feared losing - the chance of cure for one group, the chance of a dignified last phase of life for the other - did the conversation soften and a joint plan emerge.
Empathy in teams begins with listening for underlying needs rather than reacting to surface positions. It enables non-violent communication: “When I hear this, I worry that…” instead of “You always…”. In hierarchical systems, this is crucial. Young doctors, nurses, paramedics or students will only speak up about safety concerns if they trust that seniors will respond with curiosity rather than humiliation.
At our clinical hospitals, we use several strategies to cultivate empathic teamwork: Balint-type groups for physicians, communication workshops that include role-play of difficult conversations between colleagues, and mental-health awareness programs that normalise talking about stress and burnout. These initiatives create psychological safety and protect against toxic hierarchies where fear and shame replace dialogue.
The same principles apply in research teams and academic administration. Empathic communication helps transform competition into cooperation: acknowledging different pressures - grant deadlines, publication demands, teaching loads - allows colleagues to negotiate roles more fairly and to share success rather than fight over credit. In university administration, taking time to understand how rules and procedures affect staff and students in daily practice often leads to more realistic, humane policies and greater acceptance of necessary changes.
In my own leadership roles, I try to begin meetings with questions such as: “What has been difficult in your work recently?” or “What support would help you most?” It is a simple gesture, but it invites people to move from defence to cooperation.
My advice to young health professionals is this: use empathy intentionally, not only with patients but with peers and supervisors. When you genuinely try to understand the pressures and vulnerabilities of others, you gain a powerful tool for resolving conflicts, building alliances, and creating teams where excellent care becomes possible.
Empathy in teams begins with listening for underlying needs rather than reacting to surface positions. It enables non-violent communication: “When I hear this, I worry that…” instead of “You always…”. In hierarchical systems, this is crucial. Young doctors, nurses, paramedics or students will only speak up about safety concerns if they trust that seniors will respond with curiosity rather than humiliation.
At our clinical hospitals, we use several strategies to cultivate empathic teamwork: Balint-type groups for physicians, communication workshops that include role-play of difficult conversations between colleagues, and mental-health awareness programs that normalise talking about stress and burnout. These initiatives create psychological safety and protect against toxic hierarchies where fear and shame replace dialogue.
The same principles apply in research teams and academic administration. Empathic communication helps transform competition into cooperation: acknowledging different pressures - grant deadlines, publication demands, teaching loads - allows colleagues to negotiate roles more fairly and to share success rather than fight over credit. In university administration, taking time to understand how rules and procedures affect staff and students in daily practice often leads to more realistic, humane policies and greater acceptance of necessary changes.
In my own leadership roles, I try to begin meetings with questions such as: “What has been difficult in your work recently?” or “What support would help you most?” It is a simple gesture, but it invites people to move from defence to cooperation.
My advice to young health professionals is this: use empathy intentionally, not only with patients but with peers and supervisors. When you genuinely try to understand the pressures and vulnerabilities of others, you gain a powerful tool for resolving conflicts, building alliances, and creating teams where excellent care becomes possible.