Something I think about, complete with altruism.
My conclusion is that Compassion is compartmentalised.
By that I mean, we do care, but only for certain people, certain groups, even only in certain situations or times.
For example, I feel very bad that there is homelessness. I often think of these people on a cold night. But if one appeared at our door, and asked to come in for a night, I would worry that they were not clean, might be violent, might steal, and might refuse to leave in the morning.
It is easier for me to care about the hungry in Africa. They are far away. I do care. However, I do not like some of my neighbours. I think they are rude. Well, they have been in the past.
This is the difficulty.
I am mentally ill, and I do not seem to fall into any group that is cared for. People do not care about me. I experience stigma.
Yet, the people who have shouted at me probably consider themselves to be loving people. They just do not care about me.
Their compassion, and mine is compartmentalised.
We dole it out, our altruism, as we see fit.