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“Quest for a Moral Compass”

What’s the West built upon? Surely, on history – this flow of time and ideas that became a way of life. It’s intriguing, really, that thoughts get picked up, reworked and taken in new directions to become, perhaps, quite different from how they started.

Mulling over the ideas behind how we’re living is fairly common here (Notes One), but one book that’s made more sense of things than many others is “The Quest for a Moral Compass” by Kenan Malik. I’d turned to it wanting to better understand the reasoning behind modern notions of morality, not realising it’s a line of enquiry that tracks alongside the whole “project” of the Western world.

The book charts the course of moral thinking from Ancient Greece to the present day, with Chapter Thirteen “The Challenge of History” focussing on three thinkers who’ve strongly shaped many recent theories and realities: Hegel, Rousseau and Marx. Isolating one chapter from the overarching sense of development Malik so impressively builds up isn’t fair, but it does seem to represent a turning point.

Hegel saw history as unfolding cycles of growth: “Each social form throws up internal contradictions, the resolution of which leads to its inevitable transformation into the form that succeeds it.” A viewpoint arising very much in parallel to the Romantic movement’s questioning of human freedom or “enslavement” within social structures.

It’s a narrative of society walking its path alongside individuals, with the main philosophers of the time battling it out over the best way to balance human nature with the “needs” of society itself. Discussions of right and wrong having, then, to delve into what it is to be human and what’s justifiable in pursuing collective aims.

Because, paraphrasing Hegel, we exist within community: “I become conscious of my self only as I become conscious of others and of my relationships with them”. Individuals making up society yet the state seeking to shape us for its ends is so circular, but maybe that’s simply the crux of human development: how we might exist and fulfil ourselves without causing problems (Notes Two).

A train of thought leading, almost inevitably, into the territory of money, with Rousseau seeing private property as a fundamental source of inequality and oppression. Letting people own what are, undeniably, limited resources within a community – be it global or national – does perhaps seem a recipe for division between those who follow.

Reasoning Marx then developed further into a materialistic depiction of unfolding, earthy struggles for power with morality as a means of control or justifying the means to an end. Grappling with ideas of human identity, worth and the value of labour, Marx apparently set earlier idealism ‘on its feet’ with this pragmatic view of social shortcomings.

Capitalism evidently created problematic divisions, with Marxism unable to offer a viable alternative. As Malik demonstrates, though, ideas have perhaps always been evolving as we seek to find the “correct” configuration for a society that’s able to maintain itself while simultaneously allowing all its members to flourish.

Notes and References:

“The Quest for a Moral Compass. A Global History or Ethics” by Kenan Malik, (Atlantic Books, London), 2014.

Note 1: One thing leads to another
Note 1: What are our moral judgements?
Note 1: Do we know what stands before us?
Note 1: The sense of having a worldview
Note 1: Do we need meaning?
Note 2: Economy as a battleground
Note 2: Contracts, social or commercial
Note 2: Right to look out for ourselves?
Note 2: Relating to one another
Note 2: Interdependency

Ideas around the value of our presence and all we bring to life were also the focus of The difference humanity makes.

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Detaching from the world around us

It’s an intriguing thought that we might lose the ability to “see” nature, as explored in this recent BBC article on “plant blindness”. Presumably we only know or see anything through having had it pointed out, drawn to our attention, its significance successfully conveyed in the form of language and attitude (Notes One). How else do we learn to recognise things and understand their importance?

We’re apparently also most motivated to preserve or defend those “like us”: animals with traits echoing ours, such as reassuring forward-facing eyes. I suppose what’s clear from this and most other news items is how much we’re focussed on ourselves, mainly feeling empathy or concern for beings bearing characteristics or qualities similar to our own.

But, in reality, don’t all nature’s living beings and materials matter? We might justify our limited interest in evolutionary terms regarding the threats or advantages certain animals or environments offer for our survival, but all of nature is effectively this intricate balance of relationships, dependencies, mutually beneficial habits and cycles that, together, create and sustain “life” on this planet (Notes Two).

The mind might fairly easily spin any number of fascinating or compelling theories, downplaying some factors and dialling up the importance of other outcomes. And, in the absence of deeper understanding of all the ways nature’s entwined and all the indispensable functions it’s carrying out, maybe there’s little to fall back on but the natural affinity of self-recognition?

I mean, how are we to make sense of an incredibly complex world and grasp our place within it? How can we imagine all the ways our actions, here, within our immediate, national or economic landscapes are impacting remote places and, perhaps, upsetting delicate balances? With all that’s going on in modern life, how are we to value the natural world? With what eyes can we see it?

As discussed in the article, we tend to notice what we already know, what stands out or holds meaning in our eyes. Like the anecdotes on cultures with forty-plus words for snow or no word for green, the language we use shapes the world we’re able to see. As we talk more about modern phenomena and become increasingly detached from rural environments, it’s perhaps “natural” our awareness of nature risks going into decline?

It might be “easy” to say that doesn’t really matter, that life evolves and human civilisation has more to worry about than whether people recognise trees, appreciate the fact they’re alive, or relate to creatures completely unlike themselves (Notes Three). In a world where empathy for one another is often sorely lacking, maybe it’s a luxury to expect people to care for nature as well.

But, where does such thinking lead? We might be faced with many pressing, overwhelming distractions, but understanding how nature forms the foundation of life seems fundamental to what it is to be human: we exist within our environment. Surely it can’t be anything less than deeply problematic if society loses sight of essential human realities?

Notes and References:

BBC Article “Why ‘plant blindness’ matters – and what you can do about it” by Christine Ro, 29 April 2019: http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20190425-plant-blindness-what-we-lose-with-nature-deficit-disorder

Note 1: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 1: What we know to pass on
Note 2: Intrinsic value of nature
Note 2: Nature tells a story, about the planet
Note 2: Nature speaks in many ways, do we listen?
Note 3: Tuning out from environment
Note 3: “Ecological Intelligence”
Note 3: Aesthetic value of nature

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Contracts, social or commercial

What does it mean if we conceive of our social relationships in increasingly financial terms? Falling back on the relative “security” of commercial interactions and rights rather than their more loosely defined social counterparts.

It’s something I’ve circled around a few times here, wondering why we might prefer interacting with life as consumers rather than citizens (Notes One). Because it’s completely possible to reduce society down to mere numbers, to quantify and draw a line under it all: we contribute, “paying” for society’s upkeep, and then we’re free to do as we please.

Are we more comfortable and confident within commercial contracts than social ones? Knowing where we stand, we can assert our rights with the authority consumer relationships offer: we demand better service, knowing that money speaks and our voice counts within the online world of reputation. We have leverage there, in that equalising, universal trading space.

And the system backs us up. These are clearly defined contracts that can be enforced or, at least, wielded to push companies into behaving better through the pressure of public relations. Compared with the undeniably messy realities of policing, overwhelm, and the countless ways people attempt to get around things, the world of money’s fairly clean cut.

Maybe it comes down to commercial contracts being something we deliberately enter into as adults? We choose to sign up to them, having had the chance to read the conditions attached. Society, however, we’re born into and its terms are nowhere written down in their entirety; it’s this evolving, ongoing project we’re all automatically a part of (Notes Two).

The fact we’re placed within something that very much relies upon our active, consistent effort in upholding it through our behaviours, attitudes and belief in its ultimate value is really quite intriguing. Surely such a thing would be better done consciously? Would collective reality not work better based on fully informed understanding rather than implied or subconscious pressures and expectations?

Is it enough to delineate broad responsibilities and say, “Here’s the money, deliver what’s promised”? What if costs increase or needs can’t be met? What if the environment changes and problems multiply? What if, left to ourselves, we pursue courses of action that create a whole new set of problems? What if the social model “needs” our more deliberate involvement?

Can that be reduced to money? Is society the same as our commercial contracts, where terms can’t be changed without agreement and publicity creates enough pressure to enforce our wishes? There might be financial elements to society, but it’s also a different kind of relationship. Terms such as trust, interest, contribution, obligation, investment might apply in both worlds, but do they mean the same? (Notes Three)

Does society require something different of us? A more rounded sense of trust and responsibility within collective human activity, perhaps. A deeper sense for how we’re upholding valuable ideals. Greater awareness of situations our personal or commercial actions might be creating, alleviating or exacerbating elsewhere. Otherwise, what are we doing?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Invisible ties
Note 1: Trust within modern society
Note 1: Smart to play the system?
Note 1: Community as an answer
Note 2: Making adjustments
Note 2: Shopping around for a society
Note 2: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 2: Questions around choice
Note 3: Right to look out for ourselves?
Note 3: Obligations and contributions
Note 3: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 3: Interdependency

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Does being alone amplify things?

Left to our own devices, where does the mind tend to lead us? Often, I’d imagine, into some version of circling around and around with our own limited thinking. How are we to escape that, if we’ve only ourselves for company?

It’s perhaps an obvious thing to say, but it still seems an important “fact” to keep in mind. Left alone with our feelings, thoughts, interpretations, and patterns in life – mistaken as they might so easily be – they’ll arguably just feed off themselves, rigidify, or grow to strange and unusual proportions. Without the relief of “another perspective”, we almost seemed destined to suffer under our own delusions.

A few steps later, we could find ourselves in strange places with strange people for company. Our beliefs certainly seem – consciously or otherwise – to attract those who either think the same or see some advantage to be gained from our situation (Notes One). Life seems to work that way, unfortunately: mistaken ideas and valuations somehow playing themselves out.

There’s this sense in which we’re thinking beings – working things out with our minds – and also social beings who learn alongside and through our interactions with others (Notes Two). Those two combined must place a lot of importance on communication?

If words are our vehicles for escaping the confines of our minds – voicing our individual perspectives, experiences and thoughts – then presumably conversations are our venue for exploring, sounding out, checking, correcting, reworking, strengthening or sharing those views? Going out beyond ourselves to encounter others seems, in many ways, the answer (Notes Three).

But, of course, it’s not that simple. Especially “these days” where we’re reportedly becoming increasingly isolated as a result of modern living and the roles technology’s coming to play in our lives. We’re perhaps more isolated from meaningful relationships than humans have ever conceivably been – increasingly cut off and alone with our own minds, fears, insecurities, patterns and problems.

There may be irony to something connecting us with more people than ever before yet simultaneously rendering us more isolated within our immediate surroundings. Ultimately, perhaps, it’s a challenge? This sense in which technology offers us so much, provided we’re able to overcome the equally substantial difficulties it’s throwing up for us all.

Because I’m just not sure how healthy it is to be alone. There’s undeniably value to knowing yourself, understanding your own mind, doing the work to unpack and heal your own psyche; but there must be limits to how far we can progress in isolation. Without the insight, interaction and reality other people bring to our lives, don’t we risk becoming less human?

Relating to others and finding common ground might be becoming increasingly hard – knowing who to trust; navigating fraught conversations or insurmountable differences; grasping people’s intentions so as not to be led astray – but arguably it’s our only way forward (Notes Four).

As ever, I’m just musing. But having a clear sense of how far we’re an island and where we indeed must connect seems pretty essential in life.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The way to be
Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 1: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 2: What are we thinking?
Note 2: Ways thought adds spins to life
Note 2: Counselling, listening & social identity
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 3: Pick a side, any side
Note 3: True words spoken in jest
Note 4: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 4: What would life be if we could trust?
Note 4: The idea of self reliance

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Is honesty actually the best policy?

We might believe it “helps” to be less than entirely truthful – that people can’t handle honesty or it’s better not to rock the boat and have to deal with the fall out – but is it really the best path? At times, it seems our social world’s in fact built on the calm seas of hidden realities: no-one quite daring to reveal the truth and allow its integration within a more complex, nuanced, trustworthy sense of where things stand.

It just seems there’s so many ways we’re not quite honest. All these ideas around the social value of agreeing, hiding differences, casting around all these little white lies that, perhaps, grease the wheels of comfortable togetherness. And, of course, we all have our patterns and opinions, so insisting on challenging and correcting one another all the time could well shut off communication altogether.

But what’s the right balance? Without truth, where do we stand? Presumably, on a foundation of uncertainty, doubt and distrust. If we’re less than honest and expect similar dishonesty from others, we surely all exist in an ambiguous middle ground? A place of second guessing, imagination, filling in gaps, and concealing true feelings.

Maybe that’s simply “being sociable”? Keeping things back. Not quite revealing ourselves or showing our hand. Not letting others see us as we truly are or what we really think or feel about things. This game of illusions, masks and pretence as we deflect the penetrating gaze of others or attempt to control their idea of us. It’s interesting really, the social dance.

What are we trying to achieve though? Is it this idea of life being a drama? Our words, actions and appearances influencing how things play out as we seek advantage, power, popularity, or whatever else. It’s seemingly the root of the word “personality” – the persona, or mask, we create and live through (Note One).

I suppose it comes down to our sense of what life’s about? Are we here to share our true nature, learn from one another, grow beyond ourselves and our limited understanding? If so, might we all have a sort of duty to offer our true perspective, even if we don’t yet see what it means or how it might be useful?

This sense of entrusting others with the finest truth we can muster, in as acceptable a form as we’re able. As in, not to be brutal or speak with the intent to wound, but share our thoughts on life in case others can learn something from them (Notes Two). A picture, perhaps, of each person holding their part of the truth and contributing their perspective within the larger context?

Who knows what the “right” way is, but technology’s surely now offering us fewer places to hide? Modern life, with its carefree communication and illusion of privacy, seems a powerful challenge toward greater honesty (Notes Three). Can we handle that? Regardless, within a world of increasing transparency, accountability and divergent viewpoints, maybe we can’t keep avoiding the truth.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Masks we all wear
Note 2: Living as an open wound
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 2: What we say & what we mean
Note 2: Making adjustments
Note 3: Value in visible impacts
Note 3: All that’s going on around us
Note 3: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 3: The power of understanding
Note 3: Who should we trust?

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Stories that bind us

Our cultural life’s clearly full of stories – themes, arcs and plot points that blend their way into our lives both personally and collectively. Imaginary people and storylines that can become as real as life itself: characters we see as peers, relating to or modelling ourselves on them, feeling as if their story were ours and our life gains meaning through their echo.

It’s intriguing, how imaginative we are. Seeing our experiences represented there, we feel understood or as if we have a place – that we “fit” and can find our home here. This way that culture can draw us together, demonstrating affinity and all we have in common. Almost a sense of wrapping a cloak around us, including people within the folds of community.

Isn’t it one of the social functions of cultural life? To create bonds of togetherness through the stories we tell. To recast our lives through the lens of its narratives, shaping identities and offering belonging (Notes One). Historically, it seems culture helped define groups against those around them – establishing common history, shared interpretations, agreed upon ways to think or act.

As if culture were the storyline of community: those events or themes considered relevant, the types of people deemed admirable, the paths seen as progress. Relating ourselves to such products, we take our place within the social narrative to make peace with its evaluations or work our way toward changing them.

Because, what if ideas are mistaken? What if stories are as divisive as they are uniting? What if judgements being cast over, say, the elderly or the less conventionally attractive are socially dangerous concepts to embrace? What if, for commercial or other reasons, we’re inundated with unhelpful or even damaging notions of what it is to be human and the value within society?

Culture might well bind us together, but surely it can quite equally bind us to constrictive, exclusive, inhuman ideas? If ideas are as seeds – small, powerful, creative notions that can grow out through our lives – where might seemingly insignificant assumptions, slights or inferences of human worth lead? Are tiny, mistaken notions slipping through our filters that might develop to concerning social proportions?

It’s a strange thought, perhaps, but it seems it might be worth considering (Notes Two). Is our cultural consumption healthy? As in, this sense of moving in the direction of wholeness. Do our stories tend toward healthy integration, personally and socially? Are they making us more human or less – inclining us to the best or worst of our capacities?

Looking back, it seems stories were once used almost as food: nourishing relationships as well as the psyche, encouraging balanced understanding of the world and our place within it. These days, we’re more often driven toward dissatisfaction: locked into the perpetual consumption of “more” in order to feel better about ourselves and our social status.

Why exactly modern culture seems so superficial, frequently undermining human value instead of encouraging us all to develop the best of ourselves, is interesting to contemplate.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Culture as what we relate to
Note 1: Definition, expression & interpretation
Note 1: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 1: Do we know what stands before us?
Note 1: Absolute or relative value
Note 2: “Wisdom” by Andrew Zuckerman
Note 2: Can we solve our own problems?
Note 2: Cycles of mind & matter
Note 2: Do we know what we’re doing?

Although approached from a different perspective, “Women who run with the wolves” addresses this idea of using stories to nourish the soul.

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Art as a way to subvert or inspire

At their most simplistic, art and culture are perhaps about our relationship to reality? The way we see things, what we think they mean, how we imagine it fitting together into some sort of coherent or meaningful whole. And, with that, it seems there’s this basic attitude of either hope or despair, belief or doubt – do we see the best or the worst in all this?

Equally, there’s the question of whether culture’s reflecting or somehow distorting realities in how they’re represented to us: adding something that’s not quite there or discounting elements of what is actually present (Notes One). Either way, it seems to be changing things – in our minds, at least.

Art, not then being a faithful mirror, can sometimes seem like a source of subversion as, intentionally or not, it misrepresents our reality. Perhaps pointing toward what “might” happen, one way or another, or hinting at what “might” be emerging or working behind the scenes – this emotive projection of intentions, trends or impending realities that may or may not be there.

For some reason, society’s seemingly tending toward despair. Seeing the world around us more clearly and comprehensively than previously, its darkness thrust forward and running awry, while also having that explored so (un)realistically within modern culture can perhaps only lead to a sense of resignation or a deepened sense of engagement with the process of what we’re creating through our lives (Notes Two).

After all, are we actually powerless to influence such trends, patterns and outcomes? Is there any sense in us responding on anything other than an emotional or intellectual level to what we’re observing around us? Is it even a waste of energy to react, to travel those paths if only with our hearts or minds? Are we wasting time caring about collective realities when we could just look to our own interests? Surely not (Notes Three).

I’m tending more toward thinking these things might be encouraging us to find our feet, hold our ground, understand our power. Rather than getting swept one way or another by voices or imagery from the potential extremes, to see how we stand between those two basic alternatives of optimism or pessimism in life. To understand the nature of our systems and the choices we have in responding to all that lands on our doorstep.

Perhaps art is there to draw things more sharply to our attention? To depict our realities, the risks and opportunities contained within them, so we might, somehow, be drawn out of any complacency to engage more purposefully in both our thinking and action with the world we’re seeking to grasp our role within (Note Four).

Might the function or value of art be in creating awareness so that we, in turn, can choose what we hope to create? Its visceral representations of life serving as opportunities – doorways – for focussing in on our challenges then, hopefully, accepting where we stand and actively deciding the role we want to be playing in things moving forward.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 1: Truth, illusion & cultural life
Note 1: It resonates, but should it be amplified
Note 1: What does art have to say about life?
Note 2: Living your life through a song
Note 2: Matt Haig’s “Notes on a Nervous Planet”
Note 2: Dystopia as a powerful ideal
Note 3: Right to look out for ourselves?
Note 3: And, how much can we care?
Note 4: Do we know what we’re doing?

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One thing leads to another

What is the course of life? One step, one decision – be it in action, word or interpretation – effectively becoming the new foundation of where we stand and all we’ve accepted as true, right or real up to that point? Ultimately, a journey. And, generally, a journey from ignorance or limitation toward growth and understanding.

We build, putting one thing on top of another, taking some things as given and adding others by way of our choices. There’s perhaps always a set of assumptions at the base of whatever we’re constructing? Some beliefs or ideas we don’t think to question or don’t even “see” as questionable; proceeding, instead, to build on them as if they had the solidity of truth (Note One).

Whether we look to society, civilisation or the individual, there seems to be this cumulative path of all those things we’ve accepted as true or conceded to structure our lives around. Suggestions accepted, as hypnotists or improvisers might say (Note Two). We construct these things that all rest upon one another, coming together as something that resembles a whole.

It’s perhaps a slightly precarious thing to pick at – a house of cards or pillar of sticks that might simply collapse if we inadvertently damage its integrity or doubt its coherence. What is it that keeps things together? Participation? Obligation? Understanding? Faith? Interestingly, things like self or society do seem to be held together as much through our involvement as through our belief (Notes Three).

I might’ve gone a little off track there, as really my point is around how things accumulate to become “the way things are.” Once a few steps have been taken, a few ideas accepted and built upon, we have something to lose: the structure, the progress, the unerring narrative, the sense of security, the pride or value we’ve assigned to our product. We’re invested and want to defend the thing we’ve built, preserve it somehow.

And what if some things were mistaken? What if we’ve made a few moves but now think it might be wiser to go back? Is that allowed or do we have to plough on regardless, twisting our storyline to justify this path we’re on?

The journey we take in thought alongside those we take in reality is fascinating to me. What are we doing here? Western society – any society – seems built on a set of premises, ideals, values, suggestions, policies. Year on year, generation by generation, we’re adding to that as we look at it with fresh eyes and make some new moves.

Might we not end up with some contorted interpretation of where we once began? Living in a strange reality but feeling unable to question, unpick, re-evaluate or alter the steps that have brought us here. Any journey, hopefully, changes us: our views at the end of it may make us wish some things could be different (Notes Four).

If that’s the case, personally or collectively, how we might go about changing such things seems so, incredibly, important.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The value of a questioning attitude?
Note 2: Spiritually committed literature
Note 3: The philosopher stance
Note 3: If society’s straining apart, what do we do?
Note 3: Power in what we believe
Note 4: All that’s going on around us
Note 4: Things change, over time

On a more personal note, Starting over in life very much runs parallel to these thoughts.

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Powerful responsibility of a media voice

Theoretically, at least, the media serves society as this “fourth pillar” of democracy – informing, framing, directing the shared conversation, advocating or burying certain issues. It’s clearly powerful to be in that position of guiding what people know of and the way they’re being encouraged to think, feel or talk about the concerns we all face.

At its most basic, I suppose it’s simply a source of information. Our way of finding out what’s going on out there: the main events of the local, national, international and global stages. Staying informed, I guess, of all that matters to humanity as a whole and to those smaller communities we’re also part of through our participation, interest, voice. (Notes One)

If we’re to make sensible – or, wise – decisions on how to act, what to say on any topic, where to stand when lines are drawn, then we really need to understand. And presumably not just the pre-digested, directed opinions outlets might offer. Surely context, history, the arc of developments as much as the specifics all matter? But that’s drifting more toward the reality of media existing alongside good education.

How else do we know or understand anything? There’s really no source of information beyond the media. If we’re seeking to grasp the world, all that’s going on within it, the struggles others are experiencing, then this is where we have to turn. If we’re hoping to “help” the global community of humanity through those things within our power, this is where we come for the bigger picture to inform our actions.

That’s such a responsibility. Especially in an age of heightened connectivity. This is a voice that’s streaming directly into people’s hands, constantly updating or reinforcing the contents of our minds. Because it’s not just information, it’s essentially opinion – it’s spin, it’s agenda, it’s already taken bare facts and placed them within the prism of interpretation. Often, it’s seeming a step or three away from sheer fact.

Beyond that though, how this feeds into public dialogue seems so interesting. Surely the tone, the spin – all that – shapes our concerns, our awareness, the nature of the conversations we’re inclined to have? We are, perhaps, primed to pick up certain trains of thought, conclusions or social judgements even without quite seeing where they’ve come from.

Much of what we receive seems so loaded, so weighed down with implications others already assigned to the facts. Events are being woven into pre-existing narratives, taking their place within arcs of meaning others have decided upon. There’s already this conversation going on where sides have been taken, and “that” is how we’re all being encouraged to continue thinking and interacting with life (Notes Two).

And that’s intended more as observation than judgement – it seems to be where we stand. I guess my thinking is that if society’s becoming increasingly self-aware, increasingly conscious of what our lives depend on and where our understanding’s coming from, then it surely helps to see the forces at play and, perhaps, question their intentions?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Who should we trust?
Note 1: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 1: What would life be if we could trust?
Note 1: Value in being informed
Note 2: Caught in these thoughts
Note 2: Attempts to influence

In many ways related to this, Ways thought adds spin to life looked at what we make of things with our minds.

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What we say & what we mean

Obviously, we live in a world of etiquette – the things we say and don’t say, what we really mean, and the mysterious notion of reading between the lines. Even without factoring in technology or the wonderful diversity of multicultural societies, there’s always this sense of subtext and what’s being communicated through or around our words themselves.

Might it be fostering uncertainty, fear, anxiety? This fact of socially-minded people often not saying what they mean so much as delivering these veiled messages we’re all, somehow, supposed to know to interpret. It could just lead to a place of looking for hidden meaning, imagining potential scenarios, doubting the words themselves as much as our understanding of what might actually be intended.

It’s interesting how such a thing might’ve evolved. It seems to be taught as a social skill, an asset in relating to others: to be mildly, if not wildly, dishonest in order to spare others’ feelings or create some veneer of nicety. Of course, there are undeniably situations where truth might be unpalatable, but any sweeping avoidance of truth doesn’t quite seem such a helpful solution.

How will others know they’re off track if others don’t let them know? How are we supposed to improve relationships or situations if we’re not being given valid information as to the state of them? How are we to find firm ground on which to stand if almost everything we’re told is some form of a lie, designed to control, deflect or shape us in some way? (Notes One)

What is the value of communication if it’s not truthful? What’s the impact on others of truth being hidden or glossed over? What are we missing out on by walking this path? If reality “is what it is” but we’re not reflecting that with our words, what are we doing? Why are we here, on earth, for some reason sending all these contorted reflections of reality to one another? (Notes Two)

Of course, there is such a thing as social awareness: things to let pass unsaid for the sake of politeness; some delineation between private and public, with all the gradations of intimacy or trust between them; the personal and social selves we use to shape how we wish to be seen and the degree of honesty we’ll offer in any given setting. Nuance that, perhaps, amounts to social creativity.

All this, then, boils down to the sense of a social code. Which can presumably only work if we’re using the same one – if we’re in agreement over what it all means – otherwise there’s just a confusion of confidence, paranoia, false certainty or doubt. If we can’t be sure of using the same code, are we wise to rely on any code?

Things being left unsaid must leave so much open to interpretation. Perhaps creating anxiety or, at least, uncertainty over how things stand. Might finding the courage, skill and time to navigate more truthful conversation be worthwhile in terms of clarifying things between us all?

Notes and References:

Note 1: True words, spoken in jest
Note 1: Fear or coercion as motivators
Note 1: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 2: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: Ideas that tie things together
Note 2: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 2: The power of understanding

Ways to share this: