He says "Baby, I really, really want to make you happy," but she's not buying it. He's all talk and intention. She sees how he behaves and no, not only is he not making her happy, he's not really trying to figure out what it would take, how to translate his talk into walk; his intention into practice. What he really means is that he wishes that magically without any change in his behavior she would become happy.
The holiday season is upon us, a season in which we re-declare our intention: goodwill for all, joy to the world, peace to everyone. But more than any holiday season in my lifetime, this one exposes the widening gap between real-world achievement and declared intention.
We declare to the world "Hey baby, I really, really want to bring you joy," but the world has good reason not to buy it, and not just because of the widening gap, but because we don't seem to make much of an effort to figure out just what it would take to bring the world joy. We dabble. We think about a gesture or two, and then rest back, satisfied that our intentions translated into half-baked solutions mean that we're part of the solution, not like those other killjoys who are the real problem.
So what would it take to turn our holiday talk of joy to the world into sustained rubber-hits-the-road walk toward that goal?
Today, my best guess is that we would need to get much more practical about "different strokes for different folks."
Where you stand depends on where you sit. In other words, our beliefs are more a function of where our personal histories have landed us than of some neutral intellectual process of analysis. The different strokes that different folks insist are the right strokes for all, are often just the right strokes for them, and more because of where they sit than they tend to notice.
You've got to dance with the one what brung ya. When House Speaker Tip O'Neil first said this, he meant that politicians have to champion the causes that are important to those who brought them into power. More broadly, I take it to mean that each of us is dancing most intensively with whatever beliefs got us this far, to where we presently sit.
If, for example, it was Christianity what brung ya out of alcoholism, you might well become an avid champion of Christianity for all. Christianity has become a supporting leg of the chair that got you off the floor, and you'll do whatever you can to keep that leg sturdy. Christianity, for you is load bearing. You're not going to let anyone mess with Christianity any more than you'd let them saw away at the leg of the actual chair your sitting on at a negotiation. The same goes for any belief: AA, Scientology, New Age, Intellectualism (my favorite), Libertarianism, whatever.
We champion not only the beliefs that saved us but that we're banking on to save us. We say what we need to hear, what we hope will reform us if we repeat it often enough. Our beliefs become our talismans to ward off evil dispiriting spirits that would undermine our growth. We grip our beliefs tight and shake them at each other.
I've known uptight people who were tireless promoters of openness, depressed people who were tireless promoters of positive thinking, abusive family members who were tireless promoters of family values, stress-bunnies who were tireless promoters of tranquility, neurotics who were tireless promoters of enlightenment, government corruptors who were tireless promoters of patriotism.
It was unclear whether they were using their campaigns to promote or dodge their own growth. To hear ourselves talk about what people should do, can motivate us to do it too, or can convince us that we are already doing it, so that there's no need for further growth. That is, we can adopt an "exempt by contempt" strategy whereby we disapprove contemptuously of people who fail to meet some standard, and then assume that since we are such good judges of bad character we must be good characters, exempt from further scrutiny. Nothing dispels awareness of a flaw in our character as fast as flash contempt at someone else for having that same flaw.
We say what we need to hear as though the whole world needs to hear it. One personality psychologist I know calls it "Be like me syndrome," to which I'd add both, "Be like I aspire to be syndrome," or the more hypocritical "Be like I pretend to be syndrome.
And we make our campaigns that much more credible to ourselves by acting as though where we stand has nothing whatever to do with where we sit. We'll insist that our beliefs are merely the result of rational unbiased analysis, and that anyone who says otherwise is just biased.
I've made and sell a T-shirt that reads, "If I were you I would be doing exactly what you are doing." It's not in holiday colors but it is in the holiday spirit. My believe is that we should all get much better at recognizing that where we stand depends on where we sit. We should all get better at empathizing, putting ourselves in each other's seats, and noticing while there, that if it were our seat, we would believe exactly what the person who's seated there believes.
Would that eliminate our practical problems implementing goodwill to all? Can I rest now, proclaiming myself part of the solution?
Hardly. You notice my hypocrisy in proclaiming the belief that we should all discount the credibility of our beliefs by remembering that they're seat-based. Maybe I'm just saying what I need to hear. Still, any attempt to identify what it would take to bring more joy to the world will be an assertion about what people should do, so I'm willing to risk it, so long as I don't stop at half-measures.
Elsewhere, I've written about the other half of this issue: One of the most popular ways to dismiss each other's beliefs is by inventorying their seat-based biases: "Oh, you're just saying that because you want to put me down." "You're just saying that because you stand to make money off it." "You're just being holier than thou." That sort of thing. We can incorporate "where you stand depends on where you sit" into our "exempt by contempt' strategies. We often do. We assume that if we can see someone else's seat-based bias we must not have a bias. We act like bias is some rare disease other people have.
So here's what I'm saying: If I want to bring more joy to the world really, and not just as lip service, I have to get better at noticing how where I stand depends on where I sit. And yes I'm saying you do too if you want to bring more joy to the world. Spend some non-half-gesture time thinking about how where you stand depends on where you sit. Listen when people point out your seat-based bias. Take it to heart. Worry it.
Different strokes for different folks, depending on their seating arrangement. Our debate about what strokes we have to synchronize if we're going to float this planet forward will go better if we each can factor in some of this kind of self-awareness.