Breaking Binaries
Getting comfortable in the in-between
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Bye-bye binaries
Growing up, I developed what you might call an argumentative streak. As the youngest in a family of strong-minded, opinionated people, I felt that in order to keep up, I always needed to bring something new to the table. A minuscule, overlooked detail to an otherwise straightforward topic? On it. A controversial nuance I knew would add fuel to the fire? My dream. “Diana, please stop contradicting me!” was a common complaint I got from my parents — and yet I wore my Devil’s advocate badge with pride.
The truth is, I love a good debate. Toying with even my own opposing views helps me better express myself. It gives me permission to change my mind and the freedom to say I don’t know. Most importantly, it fosters a colourful combination of opinions that culminates in a subject well-explored. Unfortunately, these days, it feels harder and harder to find. Complex issues often get split into binary, polarising “camps” in line with political ideologies (left vs. right, Liberal vs. Conservative, Socialist vs. Democratic), religious beliefs (religious vs. non-religious, Christian vs. Jewish vs. Muslim), social beliefs (wealthy vs. poor), and so on.
I don’t know about you, but I often feel pressured to have a certain opinion based on how I’ve felt about a subject in the past, based on where I am and where I come from, and based on who my friends are. Sometimes, these expected opinions actually clash with one another. Sometimes, they stymie my ability to admit that I don’t know yet. Often, I find myself feeling uncertain, out-of-place, and useless.
Where does this pressure to tranche one way or another come from? Society, media, family. The natural desire to belong, to be validated, to be accepted. All of these dangerously converge in today’s social media ecosystem, where I am either greeted by an echo chamber of validation, or scathing, split-second attacks. As a result, I end up making all-too-quick assumptions based on what my curated (and thus biased) feed displays, or choose to stay silent for fear of misspeaking, misunderstanding, or angrily arguing. At the end of the day, it feels messed up, and instead of stimulating productive conversations and solutions, it just breeds overconfidence, hate, and alienation.
“What can a first impression tell us about anyone? Why, no more than a chord can tell us about Beethoven, or a brushstroke about Botticelli. By their very nature, human beings are so capricious, so complex, so delightfully contradictory, that they deserve not only our consideration, but our reconsideration — and our unwavering determination to withhold our opinion until we have engaged with them in every possible setting at every possible hour.” — Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow
A personal example: Brexit
Let’s take the example of Brexit.
My first meaningful exposure to Brexit took place in New York. I was working for a music distribution company which had its European headquarters in London. It was early 2016, I was newly engaged, and my fiancé and I were talking about returning to Europe to potentially settle down. For various reasons — not least of which I was hoping to continue working for my company — London was a strong contender. My amazing, whip-sharp boss had previously run the European offices and had lived in London for many years before returning to New York. By the time I approached her with the idea of moving, it was June 2016, maybe a week before the Brexit vote. The first thing she said was “maybe wait until after the referendum before you decide?” My answer, despite honestly knowing very little about the topic, was “oh, but it’s never going to pass, is it?”
Let’s pause here for a second. Why did I feel so confident that Brexit would be shut down? I embarrassingly admit that until that point, I had based my decision to move to London without any consideration for the outcome of this vote. I loosely knew about it — presumably from headlines and social media chatter I’d seen; I’m not even sure — but I didn’t know why it had arisen, I had no pulse on how the British felt about it, and I had not spent a minute on independent research as to how this could impact my decision to move, let alone Europe as a whole. (I’m not proud of this, but I’ve committed to being honest, so there you have it.)
Thus ensued a close monitoring of the vote days later, a surprised sinking-of-the-stomach when the results came in, an oversimplified outrage mirroring the majority opinion of my international friends and liberal media, and eventually, a determined decision to carry on with my move to London in the blissful belief that I wouldn’t immediately be affected and would figure it out along the way.
“[…] Hardly anyone is asked to explain their opinion these days; to outline not just what they believe, but why.” — James O’Brien, How To Be Right… In a World Gone Wrong
A more nuanced opinion
After a few months in London, we made a British friend who has become one of our nearest and dearest. Over dinner one night, the topic of Brexit came up, and our friend subtly and cleverly asked me how I would feel if Switzerland — my home country — were part of the EU. For context, Switzerland never joined the EU, but participates in the European Economic Area through bilateral agreements. It works rather well, and to my friend’s point, it’s true that I’m quite happy with Switzerland keeping its independence while still taking part in the single market.
Of course, Switzerland was never a full-fledged EU member and doesn’t exactly compare to the UK in size or influence; I think the situations differ significantly as a result. But my friend’s question stirred something within me. It forced me to evaluate the question of Brexit through a more personal lens — one that involves subjective feelings, surely, but one which also incites me to ask deeper questions than what is simply presented to me through bite-sized, click-baity news or one-sided statements from my social media.
What followed was a truly eye-opening and educational conversation from a perspective I hadn’t felt compelled to consider, with a person whose intellect and ethics I genuinely respected. We’ve had many debates on a wide range of topics since, and while we don’t always agree, that’s not the point. We each come to the table with honest, critical questions, arguments, and experiences which either help confirm our views, objectively change them, or recognise that there is a lot more to ponder than we initially thought. Either of these outcomes is far better than a staunch but poorly-understood assumption.
Sidebar: I recommend reading about the Dunning-Kruger effect — link to full study here — which talks about how incompetent people tend to grossly overestimate their skills and abilities, while highly competent people tend to underestimate them. This often leads to incompetent people speaking the loudest on things they don’t fully comprehend.
“Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge.” — Charles Darwin
Embrace the grey
I share my experience on the subject of Brexit as an example of a rather contentious topic which has two polarised, outspoken positions that are often oversimplified and incomplete. I get that it sometimes helps to break down complex issues in order to introduce a new idea or to reach a wider population, but when we push this to the extreme, I feel so much is lost in the grey areas.
I see these grey areas as the best place to unite us. A place of compromise and empathy, where we try to understand those who have different stakes, contrasting backgrounds, original perspectives. And as long as you’re open to sharing an opposing view with honesty, patience, and respect, I’m here to hear it. I want to hear it. If we still disagree, that’s fine. Because life is enigmatic and multifaceted, and there’s no way I’m ever going to be an expert on every topic. The best I can do is work to get a wholesome understanding of as many topics as I can so that my actions are informed, my peers are heard, and we all truly feel free to express ourselves — doubts, beliefs, hopes, and even “I don’t knows.”
“It is refreshing, in an age of increasingly reductionist and binary debate, to recognise the importance of sometimes saying the three most undervalued words in the English language: I don’t know.” — James O’Brien, How To Be Right… In a World Gone Wrong
Conscious naiveté
Now, I’ve witnessed enough people tearing each other apart online and been part of my fair share of awkward in-person exchanges to know that my optimism may be a little naive. Sometimes, people can’t find common ground or even agree to disagree. If it becomes clear that a conversation will breed nothing but animosity, it may not be worth the time and energy to debate it. But words are my passion, and I do believe that the right ones, at the right time, with the right tone, can make a huge difference in bringing people together in the in-between. If I can convince you, dear reader, of the same, then my naiveté will be worthwhile.
