status quo. When flawed thinking is the root of the problem, then flawed thinking must be addressed, as incremental as this approach might feel. Unappealing, perhaps idealistic? Yes. Inappropriate? No, for to confront that massive, screaming juggernaut directly would be akin to attacking a hydra’s heads rather than its heart.
Ten thousand voices can, after all, be intensely loud, even if they’re just empty noise.
Ironically, this essay itself presents a paradox, for in writing it, I too am joining the cacophony. By publishing within the very media so affected by the stated problem, I add my own voice to the confused, deafening thought-stream that daily clogs so many channels. Yet I must do this, when all logic and appearance insist it’s futile, for it is my only recourse. Talk is cheap, but silence is death.
So, yes, I betray the very principles outlined in this essay and add my little drop to the ocean, just as so many others in this day and age. Ultimately, I take heart in a single anecdote: even the smallest of forces can stir effect, in the way of sparks inciting a blaze, or hurricanes and butterfly’s wings. I could say more, but that would take me beyond the scope of this essay, straying into matters of faith.
XX. THREE SIDES TO EVERY STORY: A PRIMER IN MULTIDIMENSIONAL THINKING
We’ve all heard the age-old saying of there being “three sides to every story”: yours, mine, and the truth. Few, if anyone, would argue otherwise, so widely is this wisdom believed; but then, believed is far different than applied. Were more of us to truly grasp our three-sided nature and apply it fully to daily life, the world would, I suspect, be very a different place.
In the past, I was one such quasi-believer, subscribing to the conventional wisdom of “three sides to every story,” yet practicing it not at all, as to continue in my one-sided thinking. Thankfully, however, I would change; and, like so many of our most valuable lessons, it started with a personal experience.
The experience in question involved, of all things, laptop computer batteries. It occurred approximately twenty years ago, in high-school shop class. I was sitting by the shop teacher and playing with my laptop, in the last few, eager minutes of class, waiting for the bell to ring. Suddenly, the teacher broke the uneasy silence to ask me about laptop batteries—their operating time, how long they took to charge, their general lifespan. Being a teenager in love with his laptop, I eagerly answered the man’s questions, explaining them in depth—because, after all, he’d asked, so he must’ve wanted to know, right?
Oddly, the teacher made no response to my thorough answers, his face and body language showing little interest despite his ongoing questioning. The encounter and its illogical outcome left me somewhat puzzled, and it would be nearly two decades before I understood—because, at the time, I possessed only one side of the story.
It was only by chance that I learned the other two sides to my laptop-battery story. I was in the home of an acquaintance whom I was not entirely comfortable with, and when an awkward silence opened between us, I found myself engaging in a bad habit: blurting the first thought to come to mind, in hopes of proving that I wasn’t so nervous and uncomfortable. And, as it were, that first thought involved the acquaintance’s tablet computer, sitting between us on a table. “How long does the battery in your tablet last?” I asked, interested less in the answer than in simply providing some suitably distracting noise. But, instead of quoting a simple figure, the acquaintance proceeded to deliver a longwinded answer, detailing the various factors and operating conditions that determined the tablet’s battery life. All the while, I listened and nodded, but the more she explained, I could feel my face growing slack and disinterested, and probably even more uncomfortable than before. My empty question had only made things worse—not a social highpoint for me, as it were, as someone who strives for transparency in my interactions.
Apparently, my acquaintance had taken my question at face value and, thus, answered it in full. Her response was logical, yes, but ultimately irrelevant, for my question wasn’t a question at all—though, my acquaintance didn’t know that, because she too possessed only one side of this story, just like my teenage self explaining laptop batteries all those years before. In a bald irony, my social blunder had put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak, and in the most explicit of ways. Yet, the irony was just the start.
On the surface, my experience might sound like a notable coincidence, perhaps a little twist of fate. However, it hides a valuable truth, for it demonstrates the “three sides” concept in living terms. The lesson’s full impact of came only after the fact, sometime after I’d posed my frivolous question about the tablet batteries and, therefore, been granted the second side of that story begun so long ago. Armed with this broadened perspective, I could then review my original experience from the side posed by the man whom had asked me about the life of my laptop battery—that is, jump to his side of the story, where his underlying intentions weren’t as they appeared from my side of the pond. Of course, I then put it all together: my high-school shop teacher had just been trying to make conversation to stave an uncomfortable silence as we waited for the bell to ring, rather than being interested my laptop’s battery. As it were, the teacher’s disinterested expression could’ve fit me perfectly upon my being informed on the nuances of tablet batteries.
With that insight, the whole experience clicked into place and made sense, whereas previously it had been a confusing jumble—the miracle of complete understanding, that granted by possessing the alternate viewpoints of a situation, as to view its other dimensions. Then, I possessed both my side and my teacher’s side, and, consequently, that of the truth, which came about only by synthesizing the other two points of this experiential triangle. I’ve come to employ this basic process when evaluating the truth and the reality of observed events, to very practical ends. In my mind, I’ve termed it “multidimensional thinking,” in regards to obtaining all sides of any “story” before judging it or drawing a conclusion.
As it were, this multidimensional principle applies to all things in life, extending far beyond interpreting our double-layered conversations and empty social gestures.
Life is not simple. Really, the true nature of anything is three-sided—if not four-sided, or five- or six-, or ten-, or a thousand-. Due to the multidimensional nature of basic existence, just about any given thing is moderately complex, right down the most seemingly uncomplicated things and situations (or people). This innate complexity is without limit, and the more the “three sides to every story” concept is understood and explored, the more its truth becomes apparent, revealing the depth of life phenomena and their causes. However, a casual grasp on these facts is not enough, for life’s multidimensional nature must be integrated into one’s everyday thoughts and actions, lest we fall into the deadly illusion of a simplified world.
And therein lies the rub.
Living multidimensionally is another case of “easier said than done.” It all comes down to a matter of self-restrictive thinking: under today’s dominant mindset, we’ve been led to believe in a simple world, where complexity is rare, if existent at all. Generally, we are urged not concern ourselves with such existential matters, instead leaving them up to experts and authorities. The world is what’s visible and agreed upon and readily comprehensible, this mentality says, in quiet dispute to any notion of complexity (or personal responsibility in understanding that complexity). This narrow reality is reflected in our media, our mannerisms, and our language—and, thus, our thinking. As a result, it’s hard for many folks to wrap their heads around the very concept of multisided complexity, so that simplicity and one-dimensional nature are assumed, regardless of what’s actually there. In the end, life’s true, complex nature becomes hidden from public view, obscured by this perceptual veil of narrow, simplistic thinking. And, naturally, those possessing such distorted perceptions act on them, thus regarding others and their environment with a simplicity that just isn’t there.
Problems result, for the world does not simplify because one treats
it simply. That universal complexity remains, and will award its consequences all the same, the way gravity will pull even its doubters over the cliff.
Though the applications of multidimensional thinking are many, one stands out in importance: its role in empathy.
Empathy could be described as the critical human quality, that necessary to truly actualize the startling reality that, yes, other people have needs and feelings and bills to pay, just like you. Empathy is the vital ingredient in our interactions with others, serving as a bridge for us to “walk a mile in another person’s shoes.” For this reason, empathy is the foundation of all fair, ethical, considerate, and productive behavior (sustainably productive, at least). But, really, it’s the cornerstone of civilization itself, for without a ready ability to place oneself squarely into another’s shoes, we are apt to perceive other people as, simply, Other—as being separate, which is the first step toward not really seeing others at all. A lack of empathy is, in one way or another, at the root of each and every unjust act or hurtful word.
And, as it were, a multidimensional mentality lies at the core of