Generally speaking, I’m always wrong

I have always prided myself in being right most of the time. I think a lot of us share this feeling about ourselves. We trust our intelligence, our motives, and our ability to form reasonable, sensible judgments about most things, whether they involve everyday decision-making or the larger issues of national or global consequence. I’d even go so far as saying that one of our most defining characteristics as humans is our innate sense that we are good people at heart who hold opinions that are correct—at least in our own judgment.

But there is one area where I fall well short of being right, and not just some of the time. Whenever I speak in generalities, I am wrong, be they hasty ones, born out of my desire to say something profound based on my own, rather limited experience:

or sweeping ones, as when I come to conclusions without a full understanding of the breadth of possibilities and unique cases to be found in any group:  

or even glittering ones, as when I overstate the good or harm of any group or commodity that I happen to like or dislike:

I have caught myself making pronouncements like these because they appear self-evident. Admittedly my vantage point is framed by my own life experiences, giving me a perspective that is often biased and parochial. That doesn’t stop me, however, from voicing my opinions or offering my take on the truth. You can always tell when I, or anyone else, slips into generalizations. We lead with certain adjectives, namely “all” and “every,” either term announcing that a “categorical statement” is about to follow, that is, one intended to fit every and all categories of what is to be named—-with no exceptions. “All/every ________are _________!” I’d like to think that life has tempered how often I make claims like this, but I’d be lying if I said I never think or speak in such a categorical, general way. If that shoe fits you as well, I hope you will continue reading.

Have you ever said, or ever heard it said that all/every ____ are______ in which one or more of the following terms was inserted in the first blank?

·      All Democrats, Republicans, liberals, socialists, conservatives, or

·      all white people, black people, Asian people, indigenous people, Italians, Brits, Irish or Polish, Chinese or Russian people—the list is almost endless, or

·      all homeless people, immigrants, protestors, unions, bikers, millionaires, or

·      all males, females, heterosexuals, homosexuals, transgender people, etc., or

·      all singles, married people, divorcees, mixed marriages, single parents, or

·      all blondes, redheads, children, middle children, only or last born children, all teens, baby boomers, millennials, gen X-ers, senior citizens, or all rednecks, celebrities, athletes, or all who say they are woke… 

…the list of labels and groups we may generalize is as exhaustive as there are people.

And have you ever completed your thought by saying or writing in your favorite descriptor, one that, in your judgment or experience, fits this group to a T? It can be positive and affirming, sure to please and affirm:

“All/every _______are…good looking, successful, ambitious, gifted, intelligent, talented, blessed, hard-working, thoughtful, honest, clean, trustworthy, winners, courageous, law-abiding, patriotic, saved, etc.;”

or it can be negative and deprecating, certain to hurt and offend:

“All/every __________are…ugly, failures, lazy, inferior, stupid, ordinary, cursed, shiftless, inconsiderate, liars, dirty, dishonest, losers, cowardly, criminal, damned, etc.”

Sometimes I skip the all/every adjectives and jump right to the point:  “____________(s) are ____________!” If I sense my audience is on the same page, I can count on them to nod their heads or verbally confirm: “I’m with you,” “Yes!” “You can say that again,” “You’re speaking my language,” “I agree,” “You’re preaching to the choir,” and perhaps even, “Amen brother!” The company of those who share my views is a very comfortable place to be. Generalized thinking and speaking never ceases to make us feel like we belong and are in the right when conversing with like-minded people.

Generalizations allow me to blanket any group I want to pigeonhole into one large and all-inclusive category with no exceptions, or at least none worth my mentioning.  When they target specific sexual orientations, religious, racial or ethnic groups we typically call them stereotypes, a categorization we’ve all been taught to avoid and discount as untrue, hurtful and often hateful. Yet there is something in us that makes us want to lump individuals and groups together, providing us with clear and simple assumptions about them that are so obvious to us that they require no deeper analysis or critique. 

In our minds it all makes perfect sense, probably because thinking in generalizations relies on a logical methodology called deduction, in which our reasoning begins with an unquestioned general assumption or premise from which a conclusion follows that carries with it the force of certainty.  An example of thinking like this would be:

Americans are spoiled.  Ed is an American.  Therefore Ed is spoiled.

Logically, this is a valid argument, or syllogism, in which the sequence of premises reasonably connects to the conclusion, much like a mathematical proof. But the reasoning isn’t sound, in that the initial premise lacks evidence to support it in real life in every case. This points out the major mistake each of us makes when we speak in generalizations—the soundness or the universality of our initial premise. Does it cohere with reality as we know it? When it comes to characterizing people, there is no such thing as an “all” or “every” that fits any human population. The moment we use either of these adjectives in describing beings like us, our reasoning can’t help but be flawed in that we are assuming something that doesn’t exist—in the totality in which it is characterized--and likely never has.  

There is no single racial group in which anything can be said that accurately describes all who are so typed. There is no single defining trait for any gender or sexual orientation that fits all of them either. There is no unifying characteristic that captures how every member of an ethnic or religious group thinks, feels or acts.  Whenever I hear people start a sentence by saying, “all religious people ….” I throw up my hands and declare:  “there is no such thing!” One size never fits all. 

As a clergyman I sometimes am drawn into debates with those with a bone to pick with the Church. “Well the problem with Christians is…” Hearing that I usually smile, tune them out, and go somewhere else. Why? They aren’t describing anything that really exists.  The fact is neither they nor I have ever seen or been in the presence of any group of Christians who thought, spoke, dressed or acted identically. There is no real collection of people, probably not even in one family, church or municipality that fits the description, “all Christians.” I’m quite sure the same can be said whenever Moslems, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, or any other religious association is compressed into an “all” designation. Humans are just too unique and express their individuality to such a degree that putting them all into any box labeled “all” or “every” is never valid, because it never describes any collection of people as they really exist.

It is then, without apology, that I restate my initial admission: speaking in general, I am always wrong.  If you don’t mind I’ll include you, too, in this confession.  For when you speak in general, you’re always wrong as well. Neither of us can avoid being in error when we draw blanket conclusions that label all or every individual in the group we’ve so generalized. But herein lies a catch, for which I feel compelled to make this disclaimer, ironic as it may sound. My perceptions of the groups I am prone to labeling are not altogether crazy or necessarily malicious. Some of the things said about white males, and husbands, and fathers are, in fact true. I can’t deny them. In fact, they sometimes make me chuckle because the shoe fits me so well.  Could some of the things we say about policemen, politicians, or those in the news media also be true? What about people whose skin color, ethnicity or nationality differs from our own? The comments we make, often in jest, about blondes, or teenagers, or married people, or singles, or in-laws—are any of them true? Of course they are—but only for some of those folks. They certainly don’t apply to all of the people we so easily, and wrongly, seek to praise or impugn by our generalizations.  And therein lies the rub.  A part of us knows that what we say about the people we stereotype fails to adequately or accurately describe them. Yet it is easy to do so, and almost always generates smiles of agreement or grimaces of anger.

So why do it? Generalities simplify an existence which for us moderns is both complex and confusing. Generalities give us a clear, uncluttered sense of what we believe and what we don’t, whom we like and whom we disdain. For many, black and white categories are easier to distinguish and react to than the many shades of gray that lie between. Generalizations provide politicians, newscasters, and advertisers with the kind of clean categories upon which audiences can be identified and campaigns launched. Perhaps more importantly, our general impressions of people provide us with easily recognized types and labels that bring our humor and storytelling to life. Would television, movies and stage plays exist without characters that easily fit our stereotypes? Would directors assemble a cast whose actors didn’t “look the part?” There is a generalized appearance, manner, age and physicality depicted in novels and portrayed on screen that allows readers and audiences to fit that character into their own mental picture of what is recognizable and believable. The power of our generalizations and stereotypes is that they contain an element of truth, even if only in part, and they resonate within us more than we would ever care to admit. The error and fiction of generalizations is that they never accurately or adequately describe everyone who is so labeled.

Today we live in a most important and unsettling moment in the history of our nation and our world. Perhaps it is the complexity and immensity of life in the 21st century that pushes us to create and perpetuate labels to help us distinguish ourselves from others. At the same time these generalizations often weaponize our words, providing us with ammunition we too often use to define and diminish people whose differences frighten or threaten us. Like you, I want my words to be both authentic and accurate. Yet in reaching for that goal I must never forget how wrong and how hurtful I can be each and every time I put another human being into a category that is as inaccurate as it is unfair. Each time I do, I end up saying more about myself than about those whom I so misjudge.