“Let your words be seasoned with salt…” ~ St. Paul

“… – in case you have to eat them” ~ Imisi

“We all make choices, but in the end, our choices make us.” ~ K. Levine

Hi and welcome back to De-Me-Stified. Hope you’ve been up to much.

If you’ve seen the news lately, the biggest question on your mind is probably a variant of “how on earth did we get here?” As individuals, as a collective, how did we really get to this point?

It’s the kind of question one asks on realising they may be lost. It suddenly hits you that your current position is not the predicted summation of all the steps you’ve taken. You trace the crumbs back in your head. It probably all checks out. Yet, here you are – lost! How the heck did you get here?

Many years ago, on a nice Easter Sunday, my brother and I decided to break from the bunch and take a shortcut home. One foot in front of the other, as anyone would – until we were facing a river that could easily have had a jumbo jet for breakfast.

Our default instinct was to complain and ask a bunch of unhelpful questions. Why did we even choose such a God-forsaken path home? What were we even trying to prove. Wasn’t it easier to have stuck with the rest of the group? Eventually, realising salvation was ours to find, we learnt to ask the right questions. Where did we go wrong and what were our options? We didn’t own phones at the time. So, no way to dial in help. We had to figure it out on our own. Luckily, there was a farmer putting in an extra shift nearby. With his help, we made it home while lunch was still warm.

We were incredibly lucky. That entire ordeal only lasted about two hours. The equivalent of a blink in the grand scheme of things. That river, that moment of clarity, can typically be highly elusive. Some find it only after a decade on the job. Others may wake to it two decades into a major decision. Could yet be a good old midlife crisis for another group. A few inches past the third decade and you’re confronted with the jarring reality of existence. How did I become this person? What am I even doing? How did I get here?

It’s a confronting and deeply unsettling realisation. Very close to having the floor ripped out from under one. But it can be truly empowering, once the initial wave of emotion subsides. That moment presents as good a chance to introspect and re-invent as we may ever get. My theories about this are probably best introduced by another one of my silly adventures.

I had to spend time away from home many years ago. The destination was a truly crazy place – speaking frankly. We understood as much from the news; only reality was much harsher. A budding insurgency. Created a situation in which it was difficult for anyone to feel truly safe.

People routinely got stabbed and slashed. Bombs went off more times than I could count. Assassinations – actual, attempted or merely rumoured – were a dime a dozen. Even yours truly felt the kiss of a hastily chambered Soviet rifle to the back of the head. Literally one muscle twitch away from being the subject of sombre hymnals. One wrong move and the contents of my head would have been a frothy pink splatter. Reality mimics an enthralling thriller – only here, there were no stuntmen or safety nets.

The best guide any of us had was advice to have no opinion on anything within that town. Not politics, not religion. Nothing. It was the best way to prevent yourself from being targeted. There was not enough time during that experience to process many thoughts outside the realm of self-preservation. Still, I distinctly felt the unmistakable calmness of knowing I wasn’t the target. It must all have been some sort of mix-up. My one job was convincing the assailant of this. Never had life-saving counsel been wrapped in more ridiculous clothing.

The passage of time makes such counsel even more ridiculous than it sounded at the time. I’m not convinced it would have had the same life-saving impact today. Imagine not having an opinion – or, at least, not being able to express it. Doesn’t fit flush with the current trend of strong and public opinion. There are countless platforms with the potential to reach billions today. One word could spark global debate. It doesn’t get more public than that.

In fairness, one could condone the publicity as a byproduct of greater interconnectedness and technological advancement. How about the rigid tenacity accompanying many an opinion?

You’ve probably seen it too. There’s a sharp rise in fanatism. People hold on to their positions as though life itself would cease otherwise. As against being centre-weighted, we’re quickly becoming a boundary-seeking society. A textbook vicious cycle in which one set of extremes fuels passions in the opposing camp. War without object. Divergence!

A Hollywood theory in which there are “two kinds of people in this world” comes to mind. Here, people are classified according to their models of thought: linear or iterative.

The linear group thinks and lives in a straight line. In their view, there’s a prescribed time for arriving at a position on any matter. After that comes mortal defence of whatever position was arrived at. In fact, that position becomes as mighty close to existential. Changing tack could throw their world into tailspin. Malcolm Gladwell expertly referred to this group as “true believers”. It doesn’t matter what life throws at them. They’d hold that position and keep believing in its efficacy. You can call this the Domain of Identity. Classic example would be the Deacon who cut ties with his daughter for getting pregnant outside wedlock. Being a deacon was existential to him. Avoiding scandals and impurity was, in narrow theory, what a deacon ‘should do’.

For the iterative, nothing is promised. For a period defined by ‘T’, they assess attendant criteria ‘C’ to reach a position ‘P’. Changes to either of T or C could lead to reassessment and, ultimately, a change in P. They’d vote liberal today and conservative tomorrow – depending on season, manifesto, stage of life, financial situation, recent experience or other variables. This is the Domain of Logic. People can change their minds and eat their words here – but not out of frivolity. Rather, a genuine desire for improvement. The Emirate of Dubai – conservative by jurisdiction, but liberal by intention – falls very nicely into this box.

Still, outside of this highly simplistic 2D model, there could yet be another axis to consider; one that could very closely mimic either of the other two. Let’s call this the Domain of Hierarchy. Highly prevalent in associations built on absolute compliance: military, religion, cults and academia (to some degree). Views here can be heavily influenced by status within the food chain.

We’ve seen politicians boost their public acceptance by railing against the removal of certain subsidies, only to get into power and summarily remove those same subsidies. They didn’t change their position (as in the Domain of Logic). They probably never had a position. They just figured out how to excite the core of their support base for profit.

In its purest form (as if something inherently evil can be ‘pure’), La Cosa Nostra eschewed the drug trade. At the risk of violent death, members recognised this fine line in the sand. But what happened as these adherents grew to become bosses? Well, ask John ‘Teflon Don’ Gotti!

The Domain of Hierarchy is a particularly tricky one. More so because of how readily it lends itself to manipulation. Consequence and accountability are distorted in application. Leaders can formulate and enforce doctrine they neither personally believe nor practise – all for control. At the risk of isolation, followers comply with and profess ideology they may not personally share – until a change in status manifests. Position can change here, but mostly as consequence dwindles.

Of course, this is not a binary classification of the world. The point is not to say that one domain is inherently good and others evil. Beyond the existence of these siloes, the next most interesting observation is that none of us functions solely in any one domain. We have all three boxes and subconsciously share patronage as occasion demands. Why else are certain parts of us out of bounds to the wandering beam of logic?

Proper recognition of the domains leads to empathy and not judgement. It could also help us confront innate biases and leanings. You’ll understand why people form opinion as they do. But the ‘why’ is nowhere near the full picture.

The mechanics – the how – is just as compelling. Interestingly, this is incredibly easy to overlook. In fact, we just did exactly that a short while ago. In a template Keyser Soze scenario, the chief culprit has been handed it a crisp pass.

Deepak Malhotra in Negotiating the Impossible says of ultimatums:

A day later, a week later, or perhaps even months or years later, the other side may come to the realisation that what they once said they could never do is something they must do, or that the thing they would never do is actually in their best interest to do. When that day comes, the last thing I want is for them to remember having said they would not do it – or for them to worry that I will remember them having said! It will be much easier for them to change course and avoid sticking to their earlier ultimatum if it was never afforded any importance or attention by me.

_{Malhotra, Deepak. Negotiating the Impossible: How to Break Deadlocks and Resolve Ugly Conflicts (without Money or Muscle). Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2016.}

Replace ultimatum with position and see shore for yourself. No one places all of life’s matters in the domains of identity or hierarchy. The problem is very often the prominence afforded those positions. We’re constantly being baited into rituals of identification that advertise our leaning to the world.

The internet, with its infinite memory, is a jarring example. But the model is far more broadly integrated. As sure as the stench of a silent fart, every association deploys a version of this ritual. You just have to know where to look.

Some demand the wearing (or not wearing) of certain colours. Others identify through public gathering and naming convention. It could also be through routines, salutation, coordinated mannerisms or accessorising. It’s all the same underlying concept. Continued subscription to these often innocent and even beneficial rituals eventually lock us into positions increasingly difficult to back down from.

Remember this next time you’re feeling frustrated by ideological rigidity. A matter of logic to you may be a matter of identity or hierarchy to another. The ability to retract may also have been lost to the significance afforded an initial position. In the end, their leanings and choices are well outside our realm of control.

What we bear direct responsibility for are our own choices and actions. Hopefully, we can be a lot more alert on journey to decision-making, deliberately limiting activity in domains that discourage doubt and question. True freedom, real growth, is in the ability to change one’s mind without the inhibition of shame and self.