All Generalizations Are False

All generalizations are false.

More to the point, generalizations are an easy way to distance ourselves from a particular problem. Generally speaking, things are one way. Individual instances, however, are often different.

We connect with others over a shared understanding, even if we don’t agree. I wrote this in Chapter 3 of Three New People:

Words Matter
“It’s just semantics!“

‍Have you ever heard that? It’s a phrase typically uttered by someone who is exasperated by an argument.

Semantics is the branch of linguistics that deals with meaning. The fundamental question of semantics is: what is the relationship between words/phrases and what they stand for?

In other words, semantics are important. Many everyday arguments between people, particularly between friends and family, are the result of a misunderstanding, and this is precisely because we are not clear with our words and what they mean.

Semantics are crucial in building connections because we need to be clear with our words in order to communicate effectively. If you can’t communicate with clarity, you will find it very difficult indeed to connect with others.

This isn’t just theory. There’s a semantics debate gripping the country right now that has very real and dangerous consequences. That is, should we view COVID deaths as a percentage (and if so, a percentage of what?), a total number, or something else entirely?

Be Specific

I recently got into a heated disagreement with someone on a community forum over this exact issue. This person believed the virus is being overblown and isn’t worth the measures being taken (masks, limits on gatherings, etc). I, naturally, believe the U.S. in particular isn’t taking it seriously enough. It’s hard not to get upset no matter which side you’re on. As the pandemic drags we are all increasingly frustrated, lonely, and flat-out exhausted.

“Lives will be lost,” they said. “That’s just a fact.”

“You’re right,” I responded. “If you wouldn’t mind, please tag the people in your life you’re willing to sacrifice to this virus.”

Was it a cheeky response? Aggressive, even? Perhaps. But it served its purpose.

The argument pretty much stopped in its tracks at that point, and we began talking with each other, instead of arguing at each other. It’s much easier to imagine the pandemic in general terms like, “Lives will be lost,” than in terms of specific people you know and love who could be a victim.

Now, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe history will bear out that it was overblown and we shouldn’t have taken drastic measures to combat the virus. That’s not the point, here.

The point is, by shifting the conversation from the general to the specific, I was able to help this person understand where I’m coming from. I didn’t change their mind. But again, the goal was to make sure we could both see each other’s perspective clearly.

Whoops, My Bad

To be fair, I’ve been just as guilty of this mistake.

I recently found myself aggressively advocating that schools should be 100% virtual this fall in order to curb the spread of the virus to the greater community, and to avoid devastating illness among children, which is increasingly documented.

“It’s just irresponsible to open schools in-person right now.”

Someone fired back at me:

“I’m a single mother of two elementary age kids. I work two jobs to make ends meet. If school doesn’t open, I can’t afford childcare five days per week. If I quit my job to watch my kids, unemployment isn’t enough to cover our rent. We’d be kicked out of our apartment within weeks and homeless soon thereafter. School has to reopen in order to give me kids the best chance at maintaining their quality of life. The alternative is much riskier, to our family.”

Boy, did that put me in my place. Suddenly I wasn’t grappling with the general idea of school reopening, but a specific, individual family and the potential consequences for them should schools stay closed. I’m still not convinced it’s safe to open schools, but her willingness to share a unique perspective created an understanding we couldn’t have otherwise reached.

Human connection is messy, but a little bit less so when we’re clear in our language. As the great philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein once said:

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.”

I have no idea what he meant by that.