Going gray

A case for standing in the middle ground

In my late teens, I heard a man give a talk at a local civic meeting. Just in his early 30s himself, he was already a hot commodity on the keynote circuit. Ultimately, he became a profoundly successful motivational speaker, author, and businessman.

A student of communications myself and keenly interested in presentation styles, I don’t recall a single word of the man’s speech. I do remember thinking that his motivating message was the equivalent of “Brush your teeth twice a day to stave off halitosis, and get plenty of sleep.” To my mind, nothing he offered was novel, but his delivery was assertive and engaging. The audience lapped it up, standing at the end for an ovation. 

I was nonplussed. In my mind, most anyone could have come up with a similar talk, including me. I learned, that day, that what someone says is often less important than how they say it. Charismatic leaders have a way of winning people over.

Photo by Old School Films

It’s not just the spoken word. The same phenomenon occurs with written pieces. I see how throngs flock to those who stick their points and give no quarter, and there are logical reasons. 

First, thanks to our friend-or-foe hardwiring, our brains are biologically attracted to confidence while avoiding uncertainty. When we encounter someone who lacks assurance, their erratic eye contact or nervous word slips can be interpreted, subconsciously, as lack of trustworthiness, even dishonesty. Thus, we gravitate toward displays of authority.

Second, the world we live in is cacophonous. Having access to too much information means we are perpetually out of one loop or another, no matter how many bouncing banners or numbered notifications fly across our screens. Memes, sound bites, TL;DR—we crave simplification. Show up with an authoritative opinion, punctuate it with information that sounds like facts, add a compelling personal story, maybe a touch of humor or self-deprecation, and ding! You’ve got followers!

It’s nice to find our people. When we come across someone who affirms what we were already thinking, or half-thinking, or thinking about thinking, it’s reassuring. It’s as though they’re articulating everything we’ve been feeling but didn’t know how to say.

We notice others who also appreciate this leader. Look, there’s Ace from the gym, and Kristin from high school! It turns out we have mutual friends here, too. Heck, this is almost as good as a football game. Pass me that chicken bucket, wouldja? Go team! 

Despite how right it all feels, there’s still something wrong with this kind of experience. It has a way of killing curiosity. When I align myself with one set of opinions, one collection of ideas, one like-minded group thinking like-minded thoughts, I no longer need to ask questions or challenge assumptions. We’re all already on the same page. When I’m with my people, I become unmotivated to learn about other people. 

In the early 2000s, forecaster and scenario consultant, Paul Saffo, developed a decision-making framework that has relevance here. He advised holding strong opinions weakly. 

“Having strong opinions gives you the capacity to reach conclusions quickly,” he wrote. “But holding them weakly allows you to discard them the moment you encounter conflicting evidence.”

We are increasingly inclined to adopt only half of this strategy. We’ve mastered the art of forming strong opinions, but rather than holding them loosely, we death grip those bad boys, build our identities around them, and label anyone with opposing perspectives as an idiot. 

I wonder: Do they feel like idiots? Do you?

What would it require to reacquaint ourselves with nuance? Is everything as black and white as we are choosing to believe? What if we made gray great again? What if we set out, with purpose, to look for the middle ground. What if we replace criticism with curiosity?

What if we remember that for every story we tell ourselves about what is true for us, someone else has a different story that is equally true for them?

The man I heard speak all those years ago was Nido Qubein, president of High Point University. Today, he is a multi-millionaire. His is a story I have long loved to hate. Still, aside from a vague awareness that he’d immigrated to the U.S. with limited means and made money from being a savvy businessman and speaker, I knew almost nothing about him. I told myself he hadn’t done enough to deserve his success. Frankly, I wasn’t inclined to find out more about him until now. 

Nido was the youngest of five children. His father died when he was six years old, so he and his siblings were raised by their mother. She had a fourth grade education and worked as a seamstress. At 17, Nido left the Middle East, on his own, to attend college in America. He barely spoke English and had less than $100 in his pocket.

I can’t say I am a fan of all the ways this man has made his fortunes, nor of how he has added his name to the many structures his money and influence have helped build in my hometown. But I don’t have to agree with everything to appreciate the obstacles he overcame to get where he is now, to see past my opinions long enough to consider his. He has shown no indication of nefarious intent, no record of corruption. He’s a guy who used hard work and inborn talent to rise above his past.

Allowing space in our minds for others to be equally entrenched, similarly siloed, and every bit as capable of failure or success as we ourselves are doesn’t force us to embrace opinions that don’t work for us. It doesn’t mean abandoning our convictions. What it means is resisting the urge to “other” others. It means disagreeing respectfully. It means acknowledging that we might not know everything there is to know. It means trying to learn. It means being willing to show up in the in-between long enough to meet another person there.

Nido credits his mother for giving him the gift of awareness. 

If we all committed to giving ourselves and others the same gift, I wonder what kind of future we could build?

~Elizabeth

For those enjoying the audio today, the sound of the trash truck leaving the neighborhood at the end somehow seems fitting! 😂

Thanks in advance for taking a moment to like, share, and restack this post to help me reach a wider audience.

If it hasn’t hit you already, the great paradox here is that I’ve expressed a strong opinion about the risk of strong opinions. #itscomplicated I welcome your feedback, your civil discourse, your discoveries, your messy middle.

What makes you curious? Which of your identities do you value most? What are you still learning? If you are a U.S. citizen, will you be participating in the upcoming election?

You can register to vote or update your registration here, and you can also confirm that your voting status is active. It’s best to not make assumptions on that as there are reports of some folks being marked inactive without their knowledge.

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