It’s easy to see someone and make a quick judgement. We know it happens and–thanks to books like Blink–we know that quick judgements can help us make better choices or even save our lives. But we also know that quick judgement can hurt us and others…when we take them as truth.
I visited Banff National Park this summer …along with half a million other people. (July is the busiest time of year, and for good reason: the weather is beautiful, the wild flowers are in bloom, and the roads are not covered in ten feet of snow.) While trekking along mountain trails that led to ancient glaciers I couldn’t help but notice the other people around me who were also undertaking this feat: A woman who looked to be 8 months pregnant, some elderly folks with unsupportive footwear, and even a man smoking a cigarette.
I judged all of these people.
Who hikes in flip flops? Does that woman have any idea what she’s gotten herself into? How is he not carrying any water or supplies?
The judgements started to fade when I realized that the pregnant woman was nearly to the top of a 1,000ft climb; the elderly couple was navigating roots and rocks more deftly than I was; and the guy with the cigarette stayed a good 30 paces ahead of me until I practically ran to get past him.
What I neglected to consider when the judgements started flying was the driving force of each person’s motivation. Be it pride, competition, or health (probably not the smoker’s motivation, but maybe!) motivation played a big role in each one’s ability to succeed. I also discredited the intelligence and abilities of these people simply because of how they looked at first glance.
It’s a fact that there was an elderly couple hiking in open-toed shoes with no water, but it’s also a fact that this same couple was making steady forward progress up a steep slope, at a decent rate. Maybe they lived down the street and did this hike every day? Maybe they were doing some kind of fitness challenge? Maybe their other shoes were soaking wet from playing in the waterfalls yesterday?
The less information we have, the more assumptions we are forced to make. When we blindly believe our assumptions we enter a distorted reality.
On that same trip to Banff we visited a glacial lake that was practically glowing a magically vivid shade of teal. One tourist approached the lake and declared, “Wow, the water is so blue!” My husband and I exchanged glances and rolled our eyes: thanks Captain Obvious.
I was so busy snickering that I almost missed the end of his announcement: “…with these sunglasses on.”
I paused for a second, realizing that my husband and I had sunglasses on too. I had assumed that everyone was seeing what I was seeing, but when I took the shades off I realized that they had been coloring my view, literally. The glacial water was definitely more vibrant that most non-glacial pools, but without the glasses it wasn’t quite as stunning.
During my trip–mostly on the flights, and in the evenings when my trail-weary legs were too tired to do anything but sit–I read. In the book Hillbilly Elegy I read about one part of American society that people usually judge: low income families from rural areas. The populations is stricken by drug addiction, family turmoil, and few job prospects. In the final pages of the book the author makes a plea to those of us who are fortunate enough to not be in that situation: don’t let your judgement prevent you from helping.
The thing is, judging people doesn’t usually have a positive result; it’s better to use perception. When we look at people and their circumstances objectively we can more easily find ways to help. When we approach people humbly we can more easily learn something from them. When we reserve judgment we can make more meaningful connections.
It’s worth remembering that we all have different perspectives, different strengths, and different motivations. By removing our metaphorical sunglasses we open our minds to seeing things, or people, in new ways.