“Being Human” — Assuming Unknown

We’ve pushed for reductive thinking for a long time. It’s related to survival and some animal instinct. That said, I feel we’ve taken it too far, or at least held onto several components of harmful reductive thinking beyond their usefulness. Reducing is meant to take away the burden of complexity inherent in a shared human existence, and I think of it often as “underthinking,” akin to overthinking which also has its dangers.

For me, it is difficult to discuss either fortune-telling or mind-reading without some mention of the other. The overlap between the two behaviors is large, and they inherently rely on the same mechanism of underthinking.

Fortune-telling, as the name might lead one to believe, describes a process in which one proclaims explicitly (even just to themself) that the future will unfold a certain way. Mind-reading, perhaps even more on the nose, describes a process by which one proclaims explicitly (even just to themself) the thoughts of another with certainty. Mind-reading and fortune-telling are in fact the same or at the very least operating synchronously in every situation in which one prescribes how another will feel, think, or act.

Crystal balls are so two-thousand and late. Now it’s all about reductive assumptions about the future.

For example — I plan a surprise party for a friend because I know they love surprises. They’ve never told me they love surprises, and in fact I’ve never seen them in a surprise party scenario. This is actually just a basic storyboard for a terrible episode of a sitcom, but certainly highlights the point. Despite a lack of actual evidence to my claim (that my friend will like my surprise party), I make my claim and take my actions with certainty.

More recently and realistically, several goers of the vaguely infamous “meth gala” have claimed “they did not think they would hurt anybody.” Despite even evidence to show that there was risk associated with their actions, they assumed a future and acted on that instead. While the first example has an element of danger, the meth gala more directly exposes the imminent and explicit dangers of fortune-telling (which are very similar to those for mind-reading).

Personally, the obvious pitfall here is that there IS evidence to show risk and that there may well be obvious ramifications to the meth gala, despite a lack of malicious or insidious intent. It’s realistic to say, given the state of affairs in the US and NYC in particular, that contact tracing will not be reliable or relevant in the short term. However, with the level of exposure the stories lend the reader to believe and the statistics we have on the infection rates of the virus, it’s likely that the party DID serve as a huge source for new infections. That’s not to say that these revelers weren’t also using evidence. The DJ cites that he needed the money — that’s evidence. What’s dangerous here is the fortune-telling used to console a swath of guilty consciences. These party-goers had evidence both for and against; they assumed a future in which their actions were completely harmless and acted on it.

That’s fortune-telling. It’s the assumption then treated as truth.

Mind-reading operates very similarly, and perhaps is an even more undeniably relatable experience. You’re out and about and see someone you find attractive. There’s physical distance between you two, but that’s surmountable — if you could move. Instead, you twiddle your thumbs and replay the same record in your mind.

Sidetrack is full of people. Someone for any appetite as long as you like your people male-shaped and normative.

“There’s no way it could happen, I’m not their type.”

Or, for the very confident or exceedingly Euro-standard attractive:

“Yeah I know they want this.”

Turns out, they’ve got their own thoughts and autonomy. Mind-reading works like fortune-telling because there’s a statement of fact despite any communicable evidence. In this particular scenario, it’s worth mentioning that communication is beyond spoken or written language. Flirting usually involves a lot of body language, but there’s a mindfulness to be had with language of any sort. Language is not an exact translation of one’s thoughts and desires — in fact, language is a sloppy mapping from abstract thoughts onto a concrete realm. That’s really the core issue at play in both mind-reading and fortune-telling.

Both behaviors take what is necessarily pseudo-factual and treat it as fact. Whether or not we have inclination of the future, or someone else’s thoughts, our ability to process and know them as our own is specifically limited. Furthermore, when we assume of others, we treat them unkindly by robbing them of their autonomy in communicating (to the best of their abilities) their own thoughts.

Much like the other forms of underthinking, there must also be roots in the human psyche for these behaviors. Though we treat human nature as something undeniable, even that doesn’t deny that there is rationale behind our actions and responses. As before, mind-reading and fortune-telling appear to operate on similar rationale. Consider the steps:

1. Face something unknown.
2. Assume behavior of the unknown variables.
3. Act on assumption as fact.

Me, realizing I’ve made an assumption and pretended like I’m hot shit.

The underthinking occurs most strongly between steps two and three here, but perhaps the whole behavior is driven exactly by events between steps one and two. The unknown is a big entity for us, and ambiguity leaves a vacuous sense within most people I’ve met. In my experience (with myself and others), despite having developed the scientific method specifically to explore unknowns, humans tend to lean on another strength we’ve built up over generations. We are definitely story-tellers, and in the case of mind-reading and fortune-telling, the individual serves as both narrator and audience. It happens specifically because we don’t seem to cope with ambiguity, emptiness, or non-closure well — put another way we prefer the concrete. In the case of an unknown attractive stranger, it’s easier to cope with a definitive narrative that we assign and control than to yield mental and emotional energy to an unwieldy, fifth-dimensional narrative.

The “solution” lies there though. The current situation for mind-reading and fortune-telling is that these behaviors act in concert with other underthinking to create distinct, small narratives for the unknowns around us. I don’t know that it’s possible to genuinely consider the whole set of possibilities for our interactions with the unknown, so it may be necessary to rest on some version of defined thought. That said, I’ve found in myself (and to some extent seen mirrored in others) that mind-reading and fortune-telling seem to spin fiction along strict binaries, excluding the at the very minimum a third option. Binarization in this way is another form of underthinking, that enforces a lot of harmful behaviors, and here can be countered with the existence of a third option.

“I don’t know.”

That perhaps sounds unsatisfying, or at least obvious. Yes, I don’t know what the stranger will say, or what tomorrow brings; why bother stating it.

For me those three words have a lot of baggage, so stating it is a declaration of sorts. There’s power behind “I don’t know.” It acts to shush the other voices that spew fictional narratives for unknown situations. It’s the (perhaps upsetting) truth that sets my perspective back into reality. Moreover, it defines the next steps clearly; when I don’t know I can seek to discover or let it remain unknown.

Shrugging is the newest champion of humanity. In the shrug, we accept the unknown and embrace our smallness. The shrug is love, the shrug is life.

“I don’t know” becomes a call to action (or inaction), and in doing so sets a healthy boundary for my mental and emotional energy expenditure.

I don’t know what that hottie thinks about me, I’m either going to find out or leave it be. “I don’t know” helps make the choice between engaging a specific point of ambiguity or continuing my life unburdened by it.

If it seems dissatisfying in theory, I urge you to practice it. In my own experience, demanding “I don’t know” becomes very freeing. It’s work, and sometimes I fail and fall prey to the ambiguity despite my efforts. I have seen “I don’t know” accompany indecision and inaction in myself and countless others. In that instance, I fall back to the phrase as a call to action. In the wide majority of cases what you don’t know is not going to kill you, and so inaction is just in favor of comfort and sustained personal narrative. “I don’t know,” followed by “and it won’t kill me” can help set the risks associated with action or inaction more realistically.

Really, you don’t know. I don’t know, either. No one has to find out, but it’s worth recognizing (in my mind) that we give a lot of energy to pretending rather than knowing.

So start with “I don’t know.” Cling to it, and begin to be more okay with it.

Go from there.

Sincerely Not Known,

August