The Neighbor in the Toque: Our Human Tendency to Condense
I just realized that the title of this week’s column might conjure images of “condensing” people and things in the way that the 2017 movie Downsizing did. No, I’m not talking about science fiction-style shrinkage here.
But, whatever the reason, humans do tend to lean toward “condensing” concepts, people and things into easily digestible components.
The tendency manifests itself in most of our daily encounters.
Monday, meeting colleagues again for the first time:
“So, what movie did you see?
“Everything Everywhere All At Once.”
“What’s it about?”
“The multiverse.”
Or a dinner out with friends:
“Did you hear that Richie Rich donated 1.5 million to stop homelessness?”
“Yeah. That guy is a total philanthropist.”
Or catching up on Zoom with a colleague:
“How’s the new assistant working out?”
“I’m going to have to fire him. He spelled “recommend” wrong. Clearly, he’s incompetent.”
Never mind that the movie is also (according to the New York Film Academy) about mother-daughter relationships, the immigrant experience, time travel and, ultimately, the meaning of life itself. Or that Mr. Rich is also a dad, a narcissist, a gourmand and seriously insecure. Or that the new assistant is a whiz at finances and networking, and helped catapult his previous boss’s business from six to eight figures.
But it kind of makes sense we’d think this way, doesn’t it? As humans, we’re accosted with over 328.77 million terabytes of new data every single day (that’s 328.77 billion gigabytes. For context, the average computer today has between 500 and 1000 gigabytes of memory). And, wacky humans that we are, we are currently actually consuming about 34 gigabytes of that information and data every single day.
No wonder our brains feel the need to simplify and sum up what we learn into easily manageable content-bites.
As it happens, I encounter a real-life embodiment of this trait every week on days I walk Jasper (because we’re still walking the dogs separately until Zoey learns to control her desire to eat other small dogs in our path).
The human in this case is a neighbor, one of those nondescript middle-aged women who’s a bit round, a bit lumpy (oh, wait, that could be me), bundled up in woolen toques and an old-fashioned ski jacket with fur-lined hood, donning sensible shoes–or, this time of year, boots (also more or less me, minus the fur).
Wisps of her white hair peek out from the toque above plump, ruddy cheeks. She swings her arms as she walks, striding purposefully along the sidewalk, determined to get the most out of her morning perambulation.
Invariably, as I spot her clomping along, she smiles broadly and waves until she’s within earshot. Then she greets us both with some pleasantry and a story about her life, such as how her son-in-law is fixing up the basement shelving for her, or how she baked ten apple pies for friends and family with the bounty from the backyard trees.
The other day, she wagged her gloved hand from afar, perking up when she got close enough to recognize Jasper.
“Oh, hello!” she said with a toothy smile. “It’s the Gentle Shepherd!”
I waved back.
“He’s a good one,” she went on. “Right? I mean, look how well he walks with you. And so quiet,too.”
“Yeah, I think we got lucky with this one,” I said. “He’s very sweet.”
“Oh, I know. Those other people around the corner have a terrible German Shepherd. He always barks at me. He tried to knock me down the other day! And they never say hello.”
I offered some perfunctory words of sympathy, but really needed to continue walking. Later, it struck me how she neatly she summed up our big lug in just two words. Pretty accurate, actually.
And also, convenient. If we tried to describe people or things with all the detail necessary to incorporate their true nature, we’d never stop talking (sort of like my old friend D in high school. You didn’t want to get stuck at the lunch table with that kid).
By labeling people and things this way, we have a convenient, easy means to get the message across.
Even famous writers lean toward this kind of facile description. I’m always reminded of Maya Angelou’s famous quote: “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” But is it accurate?
While I agree that, if someone shows you a deep and abiding trait like selfishness the very first time you meet, it’s likely fairly ingrained in their personality.
But the sentiment also ignores what’s called the First Impression bias–the fact that we tend to judge people based on superficial, ‘first impression” knowledge of them as well. Sometimes, all it takes is one second to form a permanent assessment of another.
If I had judged people solely by my first encounters with them–well, let’s just say I’d be speaking to a lot fewer people today.
And that’s the danger of this kind of quick and easy categorization. Look at our world at the moment: we’re encouraged to “choose” one “side” or the other. But, as in most aspects of life, there are a multitude of “sides” to examine.
Ideals, values, belief systems and morals are not like a cement wall, with only this side or that one. No, these things are more like rare and precious diamonds, multi-faceted, and worth closer examination–which can reveal beauty, value and insights we would never have had otherwise.
What do you think? Are you tend more toward summarizing, or long, slow contemplation? My own propensity these days has leaned toward more and more hasty conclusions, if for no other reason than my days (and my brain) are already stuffed full of data, and that practice makes life more manageable.
Nevertheless, I do believe that some things in life are meant to be examined carefully over time, to be considered judiciously, to be absorbed and digested and pondered thoughtfully before we reach any conclusion. Ah, but choosing which conclusion–well, that’s the art of being human, now, isn’t it.
********************
As always, thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this article, please share it with someone else! Or support me and my writing by subscribing with a paid or free subscription. I’ll be eternally grateful either way.
*******************