Recently, I thought about how often we use labels and absolutes. They are easy to spot - "She's a vegan," "I'm a foodie," "I would never tolerate that," and so on. We use labels and absolutes to express parts of our identity and communicate opinions. However, we frequently disregard the impact this language has on our thought processes, self-perception, and how others see us.
Labels can promote binary thought patterns and shape our opinions and convictions. Absolutes limit our perspective to all or nothing, rather than acknowledging the existing continuum. Reflecting on our language and its implications can assist us in evaluating how we subtly affect ourselves and those around us.
Labels
Labels form the foundation for many aspects of our lives, influencing the way we see ourselves and the way we view others. Labels like liberal, vegetarian, minimalist, anxious, introvert, and perfectionist. Those labels can influence the things we buy (or don’t), our opinions on how other people spend their time, or how we act (e.g. “What would a minimalist do in this situation”).
If I label myself as a Catholic, there are a set of beliefs that generally come with that — beliefs about personal conduct and history. Without examining everything that comes with the “Catholic” label, I might feel that I hold some or all of the beliefs generally held by Catholics despite the lack of due diligence. Depending on how much I identify with the label, I might even feel disinclined to explore other religions or ideas.
Binaries and assumed opinions
One issue is that labels generally exist as binaries — introvert vs. extrovert, conservative vs. liberal, minimalist vs. not, vegetarian vs. meat-eater, etc. — without acknowledging that most of us exist somewhere in the messy middle.
Let’s use politics as an example (I can hear the groans behind the screen). The graphic below shows my rough depiction of the U.S. political spectrum compared to what it looks like when we use labels like Democrat and Republican.
Democrat vs. Republican oversimplifies where you can exist on the political spectrum and also sets up a “them vs. us” mentality. As soon as we hear someone mention that they support a political party, we often start to make assumptions about their views, lifestyle, and personality even if we know nothing about the person.
We can also assume beliefs and opinions based on how we label ourselves. Let's say you're an 18-year-old who recently registered to vote. You're voting for the first time (woo!) and come across names you don't recognize on the ballot. Luckily, you know you're a Democrat, so when it's a head-to-head matchup of Democrat vs. Republican, it's an easy choice - you choose the Democrat. However, the candidate you choose may have extreme views on several issues that you don't agree with. The other candidate happens to be quite moderate, but you don’t notice because, well, it’s Democrat vs. Republican and as a Democrat, you can’t imagine voting for a Republican. Or maybe you're voting for a proposition on the ballot and vote based on the answer to "What would a Democrat do?" without doing any research. As if the world was trying to prove my point for me, I overheard that exact sentiment the other day when one person said to two others, “It was kind of a close race, but I could not bring myself to vote for a Republican.”
That was a charged example, but stepping back, the same applies to examples like introvert vs. extrovert. We often assume the introvert must be shy and reserved or the extrovert is gregarious and outgoing. You could even label yourself as an introvert because you’re shy and then start to assume some of the attributes of an introvert without considering what that truly means. Maybe you’re shy but actually get energized from small social gatherings (which would mean you might be higher on the extraversion scale than you thought). You can exist somewhere in the middle of the spectrum! It’s not an either-or.
Labels make things appear binary when they're not. The core of those examples is how we allow labels to guide our thinking about others or ourselves without doing the due diligence.
Closed-mindedness
Labels can also prevent us from being open-minded about the exploration of other areas/interests.
For example, in early 2022, I thought of and labeled myself as an “outdoorsy” guy who enjoyed camping and all that jazz (but specifically camping). However, after going camping a few times, I realized that while there were certain aspects I enjoyed (campfire meals, shooting stars, conversations with friends), there were a few key components (like my fear of getting eaten by a bear while I sleep and disdain for bugs) that made the experiences less than enjoyable. At one point, I confided to my girlfriend that I did not enjoy camping. Then, when I would talk about camping with other people, my girlfriend would bring up that I don’t like camping. I would then try to defend myself and suggest that I do enjoy camping, but really I was trying to reconcile the dissonance between how I’d labeled myself and how I actually felt about my lived experiences.
That label, and the potential ego hit from dropping it, prevented me from being more open-minded about what’s possible. Once I finally dropped the “camping guy” label (kept the “outdoorsy” part though), I felt lighter. I could be more honest and say that yeah some of it was fun, but unless the circumstances were right, I probably wouldn’t go camping anytime soon. It was only then that I could move on from that and try out other things.
The camping example might seem ridiculous — how could someone possibly be attached to a label like that when there are aspects of it that they don’t enjoy? But, I had started to create an identity around camping and camping-adjacent activities. I thought that I should enjoy it. I wanted to be that person, so I tried to make it work. It probably took more work to keep up the appearance and try to like it than it would have to step back and ditch the label.
It’s not that labels are some sort of all-controlling entity, but they can prevent us from exploring other opportunities, considering other viewpoints, and imagining what would happen if we removed the label or made it a wee bit more flexible.
It’s not all bad though
Labels can help create community and foster a sense of belonging. They can give people purpose. They can be used to orient yourself towards something. Everybody (every body) is an athlete is one such example. The “athlete” label can be used for good — to build ourselves up.
The value that community (when positive) provides should not be understated. You can find community as a “runner,” be it through running clubs or social media or something. You can find community as a “Catholic,” be it through The Church or activities outside of church. When minimalism was all the rage (or was that just me in my little minimalism echo chamber?), people who labeled themselves “minimalists” found a community of like-minded individuals. That community supported each other as they sifted through their shit and also in dealing with the opinions of others. Feeling like you have shared values and interests with a set of people is important. Labels can help us find those people and communities that have a positive impact.
It’s still important to acknowledge the potential consequences, but also that not all labels are fixed. We can adopt new ones or shed old ones as we grow. Keep an open mind and be skeptical of assuming beliefs/views without doing due diligence. Above all, we should be more mindful of our language and how labels affect everyone.
Absolutes
If you remember back in the beginning, I mentioned two observations: our use of labels and absolutes. It’s time to dig into absolutes.
I’m defining an absolute statement as one that allows no wiggle room, it’s binary — 0 or 1, yes or no, 0% or 100%. You’ll recognize them easily — they contain words like “never” and “always.” You’ve probably heard something like “You never take out the trash” or “You always get to pick the movie we watch.” Now, it’s possible that you have literally never taken out the trash or that you have literally picked every single movie. But it’s more likely that the person making these statements meant “you rarely take out the trash” (or rather “I take out the trash far more than you”) and “you pick out almost every single movie.” I’m being a bit nit-picky here, but it’s important.
There are few situations where we actually mean 0% or 100%. Sometimes, these absolutes can create a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Let’s say you went vegan a couple years ago. You tout the benefits to your friends (only when asked though because you’re not that vegan person always spouting off some crap) and have said verbatim “I will never eat meat again, being vegan is too important to my health and the planet.” Let’s also say that you’ve been experiencing some sluggishness and other health-related issues. Your doctor and nutritionist (because apparently you’re quite well off and have access to both) suggest that you add some fish and red meat into your diet to make up for some possible vitamin-related deficiencies. Woof. You’re in a bit of a pickle now.
What do you do? Because it’s your health, you should probably eat fish/red meat (again, hypothetical scenario). But your ego might not be too thrilled when you have to tell your friends that you are no longer vegan. After all, you had made a few pronouncements over the years that you would never eat meat again. Maybe this situation sounds weird, but it kinda sorta happened before.
Under most circumstances, a statement like “I will never eat meat again” won’t have a significant impact. It is a strong statement that can lead you to make certain choices or introduce conflict with others who feel differently. Statements such as “I would never do that” are not that useful either. Sure there are some examples where this is true, but the statement is thrown around in casual circumstances like when someone makes a mistake at work, when someone wears an outfit that you don’t like, or when you say you’d never run a marathon (and then do — speaking from experience here).
I liiiiiiike
Statements like “I don’t like,” “I love,” or “I hate” fall under the "absolutes" umbrella. These are a bit less intense than the usages of “always” or “never,” but can convey similar things. Just to preface, likes/dislikes are cool with me, but I want to focus on when they prevent us from trying new things.
An example from my own life is when I thought (and likely said out loud) that “I wouldn’t like SoulCycle because I enjoy regular biking.” Had I adhered to that statement without trying SoulCycle, I might have prevented myself from an enjoyable experience. Spoiler alert: tried it and it was not my cup of tea. But that assumption of how I would feel became an excuse for why I wouldn’t need to try it and rebuffed my girlfriend’s requests for me to join her for months.
We often do the same thing with food. Of course, there are many reasons people don’t like certain foods — textures, flavors, previous experiences, etc., but our tastes can change. We view likes/dislikes as binary (seems like we revert to binaries a lot huh). It’s all too common to hear “I don’t like sushi” or “I don’t like mushrooms.” The issue is that we often close the door and assume that’s how we’ll always feel. It might be worth reframing some of these likes/dislikes as “I don’t like mushrooms… right now.” It’s a slight change that allows a bit more wiggle room for the possible changes in our tastes and interests.
Maybe you’ll dislike mushrooms forever and that’s totally reasonable. But what if you find that there’s a mushroom dish you enjoy? A person’s place on the “openness to new experiences” is a factor in this scenario, but so is the language we use around likes/dislikes.
The following example is a bit odd, but I have never liked raw oysters. Yet almost every time I eat with someone who orders oysters, I’ll order one myself to try — I think “Maybe this time I’ll feel differently.” So far that hasn’t happened, save for the time I ordered a fried oyster covered in garlic and parmesan cheese. But I still understand that my tastes can change and continue to try oysters whenever I can.
I’m not here to suggest that we can’t say “always” or “never” or stop saying we like/dislike things. Some circumstances call for absolutes. “I will never live on Pluto” seems like a reasonable statement. Likes/dislikes aren’t the issue, it’s how we internalize those preferences and write them in stone that I take issue with. It would be absurd to suggest that everything be caveated or have an asterisk next to it like “I don’t like mushrooms… right now.” While I agree with the sentiment, the specificity isn’t valuable. Like with labels, just keep an open mind.
Finit
What you should take away from the above is the need for an open mind and a healthy dose of skepticism. Labels and absolutes will always (ha) have their rightful place in language. Labels can dramatically oversimplify the world we live in and the views of others. Labels can cause us to blindly follow and adhere to views/beliefs that we didn’t take the time to contemplate ourselves. They can also foster community and bring about shared experiences with others. Absolutes can influence our decisions as well, whether we create self-fulfilling prophecies or stick by our statements even when evidence suggests we should reconsider. Keeping an open mind, recognizing the limits that labels and absolutes have and can impose, and empathizing with others when they use them can help us all be better humans.