I have been having a noticeable number of encounters lately in which the other party is keen to ensure that I’m “on their side.” What it means to be on their side is sometimes a little obscure, as is the question of where the dividing line is between their side and some other side. However, it’s clear that if I’m in agreement with them and supportive of what they want, I’m on their side; if I have any reservations or concerns, then maybe I’m not on their side. Explanations of why I have reservations or concerns don’t help at all in terms of whether I’m on their side – indeed, explaining my position probably just reinforces the sense of not being on their side, by adding to the volume of words that don’t self-evidently align with supporting them. Short of simply dropping all my reservations, it’s not clear whether there’s any way to demonstrate that I am “really” on their side.
Of course, for many people I don’t really care whether I’m on their side or not, and the issue has no power over me. In fact, in some cases the question of being on the other party’s side is self-evidently silly, either because everyone knows and understands that we have substantial disagreements or because it’s not the kind of relationship where I care about being on their side. One odd example of the latter happened recently with someone bidding to do work on our house, seeking for me to affirm that I’d “have their back.” I think that was just a strange way of wanting reassurance that they would get the business, but it was phrased in terms of allying myself with them against some unnamed opposition.
Things can get tricky if the discussion shifts from the question of whether I’m on their side to the question of whether they feel that I’m on their side. After all, another person’s feelings can’t be refuted, and can be quite intense (see Space Aliens Want Me to Have a Lamborghini). If someone feels that I’m not on their side, it’s not clear what can be done. I clearly can’t directly change their feelings, and just as clearly there is no room for explaining or justifying myself.
Part of me wants to dismiss all talk of “choosing sides” as childish, but then I notice all the different ways in which being on some kind of team in some kind of competition is part of adult life. I’m thinking here not just about the obvious cases around organized sports, but also many other affiliations in work and personal life, any of which can seem like a “side” at times. I have spent years thinking about competition between products offered by different companies, advocating for “my side” against the “other side” in selling situations; so clearly I’m not opposed to all forms of teamwork or choosing sides. Perhaps being on a side is a little childish, but I also have to acknowledge that we were all children once… and an inner child’s point of view can surface in many contexts.
The place where being on a side turns into some kind of ultimatum — “be on my side, or else” — seems particularly childish to me: perceiving the world in black and white, rather than shades of gray, a sharp line with no possible nuance. There are certainly situations where issues are clear cut, and there are even situations where an ultimatum is warranted or choosing sides is required. That said, in my experience, most issues have at least some fuzz or uncertainty. In such a situation, forcing someone to choose sides is at best counterproductive… and at worst, harmful to the relationship.
As a computer scientist by training, I’m culturally very fond of binary choices: 1’s and 0’s, everything in the universe representable if we just use enough of those simple yes-or-no values. It was certainly odd the first time I read an article encouraging the “rejection of binary thinking,” although I do understand the point — particularly with respect to the so-called gender binary of male and female.
I now think more about assessing the appropriateness of a model and how well it fits a phenomenon: the relevant slogan here is “all models are wrong; some models are useful.” I’m sure there are some situations in which the model of “my way or the highway” is appropriate and useful; I just don’t think those situations arise very often. There’s a kind of “conceptual pixelization” that can happen when we aren’t adequately equipped to perceive nuance. Rather than seeing things as they are, we instead operate like human analog/digital converters, forcing shades of gray to become black or white.