The Value in What Other People Think: A Paradox
All the time, we tell ourselves that we don’t care what other people think.
We tell ourselves that we don’t need approval to die our hair green or to wear Birkenstocks at school even though people call them a thing of the past. We tell ourselves that we don’t care if only a third of our followers like our Instagram post or what others will think if we graduate from college without a job prospect. If no one laughs at our jokes that’s o.k. because we still believe we can give Jerry Seinfeld a run for his money.
We are invincible to what others think because we are totally and completely confident with who we are and what we have done. We do not falter in the face of negativity because we neutralize it with positiveness of our resolution.
But I think these are lies.
Or rather, less dramatically, defense mechanisms that protect us from the harsh reality that other people’s opinions may actually matter.
Fear that the value in other’s perceptions rather than raw passion is the real motivation behind what we are trying to achieve has led us to build an immunity to the “disease” of these perceptions.
Just the fact that I’m writing this Medium post right now is evidence that I care about how people will receive what I have to say. I care how many people I can reach with my words and am excited whenever I receive a notification that someone has responded to one of my posts. It’s undeniable and instinctive that those who write on Medium or any other platform check their stats or how many people viewed their work.
But if there is no sacrifice in our productivity, then the value in what other people think is harmless. After all, the world is run on the interplay between positive and negative feedback systems.
Hidden beneath the chaos of success and failure is the foundation of how the world responds to our actions and our creations. Intuitively, we build off what we think other people will like or what they will object to. Successful marketing thrives on this ability to identify and foresee other’s desires even before they realize it themselves and even before they’re recognized as needed.
New apps are designed with the intent to satisfy society’s cravings and based off historical responses to released products. When Pokemon Go blew up, there was a sudden scramble to create more games centered around augmented reality.
When we’re in a new city and trying to decide where to eat, we instinctively reference Yelp to advise us in our selection. Although fully aware that the reviews may contain no authentic basis, we allow opinions of complete strangers to influence our perception of a certain restaurant or coffee shop we have never actually seen.
At work, approval from the boss is undeniably one of the reasons why we are stimulated to produce quality work. The work environment would be a much harsher atmosphere if our coworkers didn’t agree with our habits or contested our production value. School would be a less pretty place if the air was polluted with whispers about our green hair or out of style footwear.
Thus, the paradox arises.
Declaring that what other people think doesn’t matter is ignorant and yet we’ve always been trained to believe that acknowledging other’s perceptions leads to vulnerability in character. We try to be genuine and yet uphold the acclaimed statement
“fake it till you make it”.
But captivation by what others may think doesn’t make us weak.
It makes us human.
I believe that we care about what other people think and we always will. It is an inherent characteristic, maybe another one of those declared adaptions for our survival, and an undeniable truth about ourselves.
We can never escape this reality and there is simply nothing wrong with that. It is not an imprisonment but rather a greater awareness towards the impact it may have on us.
Instead of focusing on whether or not this self-made force field is actually impermeable to other’s opinions, we should dedicate that energy towards deciding which opinions we should allow to shape our mindset and our pursuits. We should create an objective filter that segregates constructive criticism from unnecessary negativity. It should be a construct based on self-judgement and not designed to acclaim but rather to improve.
Believe it or not, other people’s opinions can serve to elicit unrealized potential and extract extraordinary versions of ourselves.
A professor’s comments bleeding over the words in our essays can be capable of transforming an average student into a monumental writer. The track coach who thought one of his runners wasn’t trying hard enough could cut that runner’s time down by a minute and turn him into state champion. By noting when they laugh and when they respond with blank faces, Jerry Seinfeld can receive feedback from this audience in order to become the highest-paid comedian in 2017 as listed by Forbes. Even Yelp reviews may be enlightening to the chef who never realized his steak was too salty or french toast too crunchy.
The power in this unprecedented evolution of our character lies in the selection of who these people are and what they have to say.
Instagram likes and Facebook comments are insignificant to who we’ve become and where we’re going. Inflated sentiments about our attire at school or work is unlikely imperative towards the shaping of our future and excessive elaboration on the lack of job prospect succeeding graduation unnecessary. Others don’t own the right to magnify our insecurities and thus we should not give them the illusion that they do.
These decisions on who we make our benefactors and who we choose to ignore is relative to the individual. There does not exist a recipe for self maturation. Even if there was one, each dish would never come out the same.
We are destined to crave approval but should satiate that hunger by becoming king of those fulfilling dreams we find relevant to achieving a greater us.
We are empowered by the ability to designate which pieces and which beliefs fit into our jigsaw puzzle of life.
The value in what other people think is no longer a paradox but an input to a self-derived formula that preserves the vitality in our story.
