My Judgments Say More About Me

You know that adage about pointing at someone else in judgment. One finger pointed at them, but 3 pointing back at you? Well today, let’s unpack that pesky thing called judgment.

A few years ago, I was down in Portland making a quick stop at Trader Joe’s before jumping on the highway and driving north to Vancouver. If you’ve ever been to a Trader Joe’s, then you probably know that the parking lots are kind of a pain in the ass to navigate and they’re often full and it’s not uncommon for me anyway, to feel a bit amped up just arriving. 

Such was the case on this particular morning after circling the entire lot once with no luck. But suddenly I spied a space and without thinking, I drove down the wrong way to get there. But before I could turn into the spot, a car coming the opposite way blocked me. The lane was only one car width wide, so we found ourselves in a standoff. 

Because of the angle of the sun, I couldn’t really see the other driver’s expression through their windshield so I just started pointing to the empty spot hoping they’d clue in and back up. But they didn’t move. And I started to feel uncomfortable. 

“Can you believe this asshole?!” I said to my husband in the passenger seat. He was beginning to look uncomfortable. I motioned to the spot again, but still nothing from the other driver. 

“Come on!” I shouted a bit more upset. “Don’t be such a jerk!” I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t back up. I only needed another 10 feet. 

Probably less than a minute had elapsed, but it felt like eons and I was fast becoming livid. My husband quietly suggested that I reverse, but I ignored him. It felt like some critical principal was at stake and I needed to defend it. 

But then what was probably only a second or two later, the pressure just simply got to be too much for me, and I ended the standoff by reversing back onto the street and then making a great show of roaring down the street to the other parking lot entrance. I eventually found a spot on the other side of the parking lot and once my breathing had slowed and I could speak civilly to my husband, we got out of the car and headed for the entrance.

But as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, the story doesn’t end there.

As luck would have it, just as we had collected our cart and were heading down the produce aisle, I spotted the guy from the stand off. He was pushing a cart with a little kid in the seat. My heart started racing and I said to my husband, “I’m going to go over and talk to him.” My husband physically blanched but before he could say anything, I was walking over. 

Now it’s important for me to insert here that I really had no idea what I was going to say. I was definitely not spoiling for a fight despite my earlier ire. But I just had this need to understand something. 

“Hey,” I said when I was standing next to him. “Aren’t you the guy from the parking lot?” He turned and looked at me warily for a second sizing me up. 

“I was just kind of curious, what was going on for you?”

He paused a second and then blurted out, “You were going the wrong way.”

Now it was my turn to pause. He was right, and it made absolutely no sense to deny it. So I said so.  

“Yeah. You’re right.” I said. “I was going the wrong way and I was at fault. I’m sorry about that.”

He looked at me without saying anything. 

“But can I ask what was going on for you?” He looked confused.

“I mean, I was pretty clear about what I was trying to do, but you wouldn’t move.” 

He stared at me for another second and then his face literally changed. And what he said surprised me. 

“I was being an asshole.” 

Huh? 

“Yeah,” he went on. “I was being an asshole and I’m sorry.” 

Now I was dumbstruck and found myself saying something like “that’s okay, I was just curious.” But he just kept saying sorry.

After another second or two, I said, “okay, thanks, just curious” and I turned and walked back to my gob smacked husband. 

But the story still doesn’t end here.

As we were loading our groceries into the car, I heard someone shouting from across the parking lot and I turned to see the guy jogging towards us pushing his kid in the buggy. 

“Hey,” he said, slightly out of breath. “I just really wanted to give you a real apology. It was shitty what I did. And I even saw your license plate and that you weren’t from here and I can’t believe I behaved that way. I don’t want you to have a bad impression of people here. Is there anything I can do to help you guys out and maybe change your impression?”

I wish someone had taken a picture of our faces at that moment. I can’t even imagine how we looked. 

“Uh,” I stammered, fishing around in my head for something to say. “I guess you could help us find our way onto the 405?”

His face lit up and he carefully explained the directions. And after, he thanked us for giving him the opportunity to change our mind about him. 

As he walked away, he turned once more and waved.

This is not a fiction. I promise. 

I tell you this story because it is the best example in my experience that demonstrates what I want to explore with you today. Judgment. The kind that adds drama, chaos and conflict to our relationships. 

But first, let me make it clear that I’m not talking about the kind perceptual judgements central to our human experience and necessary for survival. I have no beef with those. Let’s not get rid of those!  

For example: 

• Is this ice strong enough to hold me? 

• Can I really trust this stranger to drive me to a hotel in a foreign country when I don’t speak the language?

I suspect you would agree with me that we want to keep this judgmental ability intact. 

And I’m not talking about those small garden variety day in and day out judgments that we make almost unconsciously to help us navigate and organize our lives. 

For example:

• If I leave now, can I get through the rush hour traffic and be home by 6?

• How long is it going to take me to finish this report?

• Should I order the full or half portion

What I do want to focus on here leans more in the direction of labeling, stereotyping, reacting, case closed, mind made up kind of judgments. 

These might sound like,

• What a jerk! I can’t believe he won’t move out of my way!

• He is so domineering and never lets anyone else get a word in edgewise.

• She is deliberately trying to undermine me 

• They are taking our jobs!

Notice that last one. We are living in such an intensely divisive and polarized culture right now that this is the kind of conversation people are shying away from. But I include it because the guts (or formula within) are the same and if we can unlock this one, maybe we can shift the larger cultural conversation in a meaningful way. 

So let’s start by leaning into those judgments that are more like labels and stereotypes. When we judge others from this place, our judgments are often so instantaneous that we don’t notice or question them. We often voice them with a kind of certainty or boldness or even righteous indignation that comes from an assumed and unexamined position of rightness. I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about. They’re unmistakable. Whether shouted or whispered or something in between, there’s a distinctive edge to them. Personally, I recoil when I hear them. And then I fear hearing something like, “don’t you agree?” because I know I may have a difficult conversation on my hands. But I also find that people don’t generally make those kind of statements around people who might not agree. Or if they do, they lower their voice. That always cracks me up. As soon as I hear that tone whispered, I know what’s coming. 

In spite of the certainty behind the judgments, there is simply no logic. And that’s where I’d like to take you now because if you can unlock the powerful illusion of judgment, you may be able to access a boatload of insight and humility that will help you live a less judgmental life. 

Here goes:

My judgments say more about me than they do about you.

My judgment is not about you at all.

First of all, let’s consider the psychological term projection. You’ve probably heard of this in your travels. It works just like a movie projector in a theatre. Our judgment is the film and the other person is the screen. But we don’t see our own hand in it because our psychology works hard to defend our self-image as a ‘good person.’ But haven’t we all had an experience of over-reacting to a situation and then afterwards asked ourselves why we did and said what we did and said? It's the existence of the question why, that points to a blind spot. Carl Jung, the infamous Swiss psychiatrist, coined the term “the shadow,” and we all have shadows that contain those aspects of our personality that we have chosen to reject and repress. Our mind literally pretends certain dangerous impulses or unacceptable desires don’t exist. But have you ever heard the term, what we resist, persists? 

In his book, Clear Leadership, Gervase Bushe talks about Defensive Projection. “Essentially, if I don’t want to see my own pettiness, for example, it takes some energy and effort. A part of me wants to be aware of my pettiness and another part doesn’t. Defensive projection is a kind of mental sleight of hand that lets me take my pettiness and put it onto you. You carry it for me so I can be aware of the pettiness but instead of seeing it in me, I see it in you.” 

Remember that guy at the Trader Joe’s during the standoff and my judgments of him? Jerk. Asshole. Even if one of my judgments hadn’t actually turned out to be true (because if you recall, he actually admitted to being an asshole) what then, does this judgment tell me about myself? 

Using the projection definition then, what I was actually doing was projecting my shadow quality of being an asshole onto the other driver. To acid test this theory, I simply have to imagine myself being that way to someone else. How would I feel if someone thought I was an asshole? I’d be … gutted. I would hate it. I would really writhe in discomfort. You see in my world, behaving that way is kind of an unforgiveable sin. But hold the phone. Didn’t I drive the wrong way in the parking lot and block someone else? Hmmm. 

Okay, Let’s try on a completely different scenario.  

Imagine you’re in a meeting, or just talking with a group of friends. You’re telling a story or sharing an idea and just getting into it when someone starts speaking over you. 

In that instant, you think, “how rude and insensitive!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction that you are completely certain is true. I mean how dare they. It’s not even a question in your mind whether everyone else around the table would agree with you. You are confidently indignant. 

BUT, what if I stepped in and asked each person, one by one, what they thought of the situation? Does everyone agree it’s rude and insensitive? Of course not. Sure some will, but it’s unlikely everyone will. And voila. Here’s is where your logic grows thin.

My judgments are not identical to yours. But by virtue of a clever mental hack designed to hold up our self-image as a good person, we conveniently ignore the fact that our judgments are completely subjective and interpretive and go on to act as though we’re speaking for everyone. And from there, it’s a slippery slope into the victim role (“this was done to me”) where we seek agreement from others so together we can build a collective judgment file on the person who spoke over me. And BAM, they’re branded as rude and insensitive forever and ever, amen.

The second you realize that no one is seeing the situation the same way, that there is, in effect, no common ground, the only sane way forward is curiosity. Not an easy thing to do when you’re caught up in the adrenaline of being wronged. But think of it this way, how much do you really enjoy the experience of being wronged? Of being a victim? Of someone else having the power to make you feel this way? I know I hate it, even if it can be really hard to let go of. It always feels like there is sooooo much at stake and to back down would be wrong. But the best way forward is paradoxical. When the most important thing seems to be to hang on, often the best thing is to let go. 

You could have chosen to take a breath and resist your judgment. You could have reminded yourself that you don’t know why people do what they do because you’re not psychic. You could have waited until after the meeting to openly ask the other person what was going on for them. Maybe you would have heard something unexpected – that they were super excited by what you were saying and wanted to add something, and even that they were horrified to realize what how you’d been impacted. And voila. A completely different outcome that feels much lighter.

Why is our judgmental side so resistant to change? Why do we want to be right more than we want to be peaceful or connected? Well clearly there’s the piece about needing to see ourselves as a good person (the shadow and projection). But I think there’s even more to it. When I judge others, in effect, I’m pretending to know what their motivation is and why they did what they did, something that I couldn’t possibly know – just like in the example: they spoke over me because they’re rude and insensitive. But what I might also be seeking is a feeling of control. Or what I would call, an anxiety management strategy. When I feel more in control, I feel less anxious. So I tell myself stories all day long about why people do and say the things they do and say. BUT there is a price to this storytelling that is often more than the benefit we get out of it. 

Because control is always an illusion. Sure, we may have degrees of influence in situations, but usually what we’re driven to find is the kind of control that once we have it, we can relax once and for all. A big wave that will wash over us with a kind of “everything’s going to be okay now”  feeling. Okay, I’m not going to dispute that at times, I have wanted this too. But that’s not how life works. Full stop.

And therein lies the source of a lot of our anxiety. Our inability to reconcile our true lack of control. Why do you think we have such a fear of death here in the west. I mean when you really think about it, our denial of death is pretty insane. Death is, the one sure thing we will face in this life. We know that. Here’s a quote from social anthropologist Ernest Becker in his book, The Denial of Death written way in 1974. 

“Human beings are mortal, and we know it. Our sense of vulnerability and mortality gives rise to a basic anxiety, even a terror, about our situation. So we devise all sorts of strategies to escape awareness of our mortality and vulnerability, as well as our anxious awareness of it.” He goes on to explain that one of the core purposes of culture is to suppress our awareness so we can function. Becker believed that if we were constantly aware of our fragility, and how close to the edge we are at all times, we wouldn’t be able to function and society would fall apart.”

Having pursued a fairly wholistic spiritual path that has covered some of the territory of eastern religions and practices over the last few decades, I have experienced practices that put us in a more direct relationship with our mortality with surprisingly joyful outcomes. I’m also aware that these paths are not always well-traveled so for most of western culture, perhaps Becker was right.

Then quoting Becker (who is himself quoting Luther) he says you must be able to “taste death with the living lips of your body [so] that you can know emotionally that you are a creature who will die.” 

Oh the lengths we will go to manage the anxiety that accompanies the inevitability of our mortality. But perhaps now you can answer the question, “but why am I so anxious all the time?” 

Okay, so if you want to destabilize your judgmental impulse without having to expose yourself repeatedly to your own mortality (and I understand, really I do, lots of people have a very big fear of death), then let’s try something simpler. 

We perceive the world not as the world is, but as we are. This is cut from the same cloth as - your judgments say more about you than the person you’re judging. We are always interpreting what happens in life according to what amounts to an incredibly subjective lens. 

Here’s a useful metaphor. Imagine we’re all wearing a pair of glasses but no one’s glasses are the same. Some glasses are smudged, some are cracked, some are shaded and so on. Sure. We’re all looking at the same thing but our glasses (otherwise known as perspectives, point of view, outlook, mental models and so on) make us see it differently.

And even the kind of issues that cut deep and are playing out in our culture currently insisting we take a side because there really is a right or wrong, this kind of black and white approach can only ever result in one thing. Lots and lots of conflict. Any controversial issue you can think of that we, as a community, are facing right now, will literally have limitless points of view. Conflating the totality of our experiences into “you’re either with us or against us” really does seem insane. The world is, after all, made up of shades of gray.  

Let’s try something. I want you to think of the last time you witnessed an argument between two people – you weren’t involved. Now ask yourself, do you believe they both thought they were right? Sure. And do you believe that they each thought that if only the other person would change, the situation would be resolved? Yes. 

Now look at it through the metaphor. Imagine that what they’re arguing about is some new organizational policy. They are looking at the same thing but they’re wearing different glasses and seeing different things. And this is where it gets interesting because what they’re seeing and how they’re reacting directly correlates to the pair of glasses they’re wearing. In other words, their reaction makes complete sense to them. 

And here’s yet another example. Imagine you and I are in the lineup to get coffees. Afterwards, I comment to you how rude I thought the server was. But you don’t agree. Now in that second, I am operating on the completely mistaken foundation that we are seeing life the same way. And so it goes, that if you see life the way I see it, you’ll respond to situations the way I would. But you don’t. And that’s where I get stymied. That’s where I feel justified in my anger or frustration or whatever I feel towards you in that moment. In my mind, you’ve gone off script. 

We so badly want to say who is wrong and who is right but that whole approach is just an incredible recipe for frustration and conflict. We are both having vastly different experiences because the pair of glasses we’re wearing are different. And let me just say a word or two about how your glasses came to be what they are today. Your outlook (or pair of glasses) is shaped by every single experience you have ever had in your life. They’re shaped by your history, your education, your socio-economic status, where you live, your family beliefs, and on and on. No one will ever see life the same way. Even identical twins reared in the same environment will have unique points of view. 

If this hasn’t yet demonstrated to you that judging others is a losing strategy and that focusing instead on your inner game will net you more peace of mind and connection, you may not be ready. And that’s fine. You may need to test drive things. 

But if you are serious about seeking to understand and relate rather than going for another run on the never ending hamster wheel of being right and certain, you’re going to have to find a regular practice to continually remind yourself of how grey the world actually is. You’re going to have to loosen your grip a bit on your fixed beliefs, be a little more open to the experiences of others, a little less quick to react. If you’re willing to slow down, lean in, and be curious about the other person’s actual experience, you’re going to see different outcomes. If you’re willing to be curious about the smudges on your own glasses, remembering that your reaction will always say more about you then you may just experience a little more lightness.  

If you’re interested, here's something you can try. Years ago, I came up with this idea that everyone has inside their head, a Big Book of Appropriate Behaviour. And it is filled with all the rules and systems of judgment for life. It probably includes a lot of the ‘should’s,’ and ‘musts’ and ‘nevers’ and ‘always’ that we picked up along the way as kids – either directly or indirectly. It probably includes rules forged from painful embarrassments or shameful mistakes to ensure we wouldn’t repeat them. Your book is largely just another anxiety management strategy to ensure you are accepted, well-liked and approved of. But if you were to actually look at what’s in your book, how many of those rules would you align with. How many of those rules actually make life suck?

But before you set out to start writing down your book, there are two incredibly important things you need to know. 

Number one – no one’s book is the same. And the next time you want to get on your high horse because everyone knows that you don’t talk over someone in a meeting, relax and remember everyone else has their own book, it’s different than yours and they feel equally invested in theirs being the right one.

Number two – most of your book is unconscious. And this is great news because by writing some of it down, it becomes more conscious and then you can decide if you want to change any of it. When it’s unconscious, it runs us. Like an operating system on our computer, it controls how we behave. But by becoming more aware, we are suddenly at choice with whether we go along with it.  

In future, every time you find yourself stubbornly holding a rigid position about something, every time you feel angry and judgmental at someone else, pause and make an entry in your book. What rule are they threatening? What belief does their behaviour challenge?   

For kicks, I write mine in old testament language, as in, “thou shalt nod and act interested even when you’re not listening,” or “Thou shalt not offend anyone.”

And on the surface of it, they’re not all that earth-shattering and actually appear quite innocent. But that’s not the point. The point is that they own me and until I get wise to them, I’m not really at choice. 

This exercise is not as easy as it looks. Your rules are probably slippery and well camouflaged. So if you want a little extra help, message me for a worksheet. Are those still a thing? 

Okay, so say it with me … your judgments say more about you.

So get over that part of you that is just trying to control and manage anxiety. Remember that the world is filled with a plethora of perspectives and seek to understand rather than be right.