Don McMinn

Binary thinking, also known as dichotomous thinking, occurs when concepts, ideas, and problems are overly simplified and put into only two categories. It wrongly presumes that there are only two sides to most issues and that only one side can be right.

For instance, politically, most Americans choose to align with one of two parties: Republican or Democratic. Relative to climate change, there are deniers and believers. Is coffee good for you or bad for you? Every religion has multiple subsets of binary categories: Are you pre-tribulation or post-tribulation? Sunni or Shia? If you’re a Jew do you believe in the afterlife or not?

Cable TV channels are notorious for perpetuating binary thinking. They present issues as black and white with no gray area. When was the last time you heard a Fox News or MSNBC broadcaster say, “This is a complicated issue, so let’s take the time to consider all sides of this story.”  

The truth is, most issues are best considered on a continuum of information and perspectives, but a basic human tendency is to reduce complex concepts, ideas, and problems into two categories. Instead of wrestling with a complex continuum we simply create two extremes. And once we choose a position we double down on it, creating an us versus them mentality.

Why do we fall prey to binary bias?

• It’s a mental shortcut. Instead of taking the time to investigate all the aspects of a particular issue, it’s easier and quicker to simply reduce it to only two positions and embrace one.  
• We may want to bring closure to an issue, so we quickly create two extreme positions and choose one. 
• We are susceptible to herd mentality and we readily accept the position of our tribe. 
• We have a need for clarification and certainty so we seek the reassurance of an either-or classification. Richard Dawkins calls this “the tyranny of the discontinuous mind.” Instead, we should become comfortable with ambiguity and complex continuums.  

Once we succumb to binary bias, our chosen conviction is subsequently reinforced by confirmation bias. We look for evidence that underscores our position, talk exclusively to people who share our position, and begin to demonize those who think differently. Binary thinking often leads to conflict and detachment.

How do we overcome binary bias?

• Pursue and embrace complexity and resist oversimplification. Most issues are not black and white; gray areas exist, so acknowledging complexity is a step toward understanding and credibility. 
• Engage in full-spectrum thinking. Instead of making assumptions and broad generalizations, consider the full range of perspectives on a given topic. Investigate nuances and explore gray areas. Don’t restrict yourself to just two options. 

Humorist Robert Benchley cleverly observed, “There are two kinds of people: those who divide the world into two kinds of people, and those who don’t.” Don’t be among the former.

Here’s part of a helpful article by Clay Drinko titled “7 Ways to Avoid Binary Thinking”.

My seven-year-old grandson is the center of my universe. I often tell him how much I love him, and he reciprocates. Sometimes we banter back and forth with phrases like, “I love you to the moon and back. Well, I love you to the stars and back. Well, I love you more than all the leaves on all the trees.” My favorite term of endearment spoken by Ben is, “You’re the best papa ever.”

But last week when we were at the community pool, we had an unusual episode. We were playing pick-up-the-sunken-rings with other children (colored plastic rings are thrown around the pool and the child who collects the most wins). Ben was trying, unsuccessfully, to pick up the rings with his toes, so I said, “B, you need to dive headfirst and grab them with your hands.” Then I turned him upside down and pushed him headfirst under the water. When he popped up, he shouted “I hate you. You’re the worst papa ever.” It sent a chill over the entire pool.

Days later, when we were cuddling on the coach in my study he said, “Papa, I love you. You’re the best papa ever.” I said, “Thanks B. But last week when we were at the pool, you said you hated me and I was the worst papa ever.” He matter-of-factly replied, “But Papa, I was angry.” 

Sensing a teachable moment, I taught Ben an important life lesson.

“Ben, we all have emotions. That’s a normal part of life. Sometimes we feel painful emotions—we’re sad, afraid, frustrated, angry—and sometimes we feel positive emotions—we’re happy, satisfied, grateful. It’s okay to feel both types of emotions. It’s also important to express our emotions; we need to talk about how we feel. 

“But when our emotions peak (we’re feeling very angry or very satisfied) we need to be careful with what we say and do because we may say or do something we later regret. As a matter of fact, at those times, it’s probably best that we not say or do anything until we calm down.” 

Believe it or not, I think Ben understood.

Much like an EKG machine reveals the ongoing rhythm patterns of our heart, I often visualize a similar scale that would show our emotional patterns. 

The horizontal baseline represents emotional homeostasis, when neither positive nor painful emotions are dominate.  The swings up show when positive emotions are strong and the swings down show when painful emotions are predominant. 

It’s normal for our emotions to fluctuate up and down, and they can rise or fall suddenly and often. You can’t always stay above the line (it’s unhealthy to even try) and you don’t want to consistently experience life below the line. The swings up and down are normal and healthy.

But we must be careful when we peak emotionally, either up or down. At those moments we need to monitor what we say and do, and not make decisions.

Interestingly, those extremes don’t last long; they quickly subside and move back toward the baseline. Sure, we can stay moderately frustrated or angry for a while, but seldom do we stay at extreme levels.  

Recently, in a moment of frustration (I was at the bottom of the chart), I said something to my daughter that I immediately regretted and later apologized for. Recently, during a moment of pure nirvana (Ben and I were sitting on the couch in my study, memorizing poetry), I rashly said, “Ben, see all the books in my library. Someday, they will all be yours.” (I don’t regret having said that, but it was an impetuous decision prompted by peaking emotions.)

Train yourself to recognize those moments and exercise restraint. There’s wisdom in the old notion of counting to 10 when you start feeling upset. As you count, imagine that with each number, you’re reaching a new level of calmness. This will buy you some time and help you respond more prudently.

At the end of the day, we typically begin casual conversations by asking “What did you do today?” Another good question is, “What did you learn today?” 

Everyone has a quick answer to the first question, even if it’s just “not much.” But most of us would stumble over the second question because we seldom consider learning to be a daily function. We’d be confused by the question and hard-pressed to answer. 

But if asked regularly, the question can serve as a reminder, and a prompt, that all through life and in all settings,  we can, and should, continually learn.

We have much to learn.

“We all differ in what we know, but in infinite ignorance, we are all equal.” Karl Popper

Few things will stifle learning more than intellectual arrogance accompanied by a false sense of knowing-it-all. Sadly, some people live as if they have maxed out their learning—there’s little more to learn, do, or become. Instead, we should view ourselves as unfinished—a work in progress. We all live in what Popper calls the realm of “infinite ignorance.” A healthy, proper approach to learning is predicated upon a deep humility based on the fact that we know and understand so little.

Imagine a grain of rice inside a five-gallon bucket. The grain of rice represents what you currently know; the space in the bucket represents what you could learn.

Develop an enquiring mind; be curious.

But admitting that we have a lot to learn is not enough, we must have a curious, inquiring mind. 

Albert Einstein once said, “I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.” I think he was being excessively modest in the first phrase, but notice his emphasis on curiosity in the second. An engaged, curious mind is supple, eager, and insatiable.

Learn from other people.

Secondhand knowledge allows us to benefit from what others have learned. What may have taken someone years to learn (and often through formidable adversity), we can learn quickly and painlessly. One way to do this is to read other people’s thoughts—read 15 minutes a day and think about what you read. Another way to learn from others is through observation and intentional conversation. Lean by listening to and observing others. We can learn from anyone, regardless of their background, education, age, or occupation. 

Learn from your own experiences.

Firsthand knowledge comes from personal experiences. Every day, life offers us the opportunity for continuing education. But we’ll only learn if we’re attentive and wanting to learn. The next time you go shopping or eat at a restaurant, or mow your lawn, anticipate that you’re going to learn something and you will. 

Years ago I developed a simple equation to express how we can learn from experiences: the 10/60/30 concept. This notion suggests that in all of life’s experiences you should devote a certain percentage of your time to three elements: anticipate (perhaps 10%), experience (perhaps 60%), and reflect (perhaps 30%). The percentages can be adjusted for different activities.

For instance:

• When reading a book—spend a few minutes anticipating what you hope to learn from the book, read the book, and then reflect on what you have learned. This ration might be 5/60/35.
• Prior to a business appointment—think about what you hope to accomplish in the meeting, have the meeting, and then reflect on what transpired and the next steps of action. These percentages might be 15/65/20.
• Prior to a vacation—research where you’re going, bon voyage, and at the end of each day codify your thoughts in a journal.  These percentages might be 10/70/20.

Tonight, during dinner, ask everyone to share what they learned today. It will prompt interesting conversation.

Let me ask you, “What did you learn today?” Try to have a new answer to that question every day.

David Whyte, Anglo-Irish poet, tells a story about losing and finding his favorite pen, a Mont Blanc given to him by a friend. It is his favorite pen, not because it’s an expensive instrument, but because for decades it has been his constant companion and he uses it to write poetry and sign books.    

He was on a red-eye flight returning to Belfast. Moments before the plane landed, as he started getting his belongings together, he realized he must have dropped his pen. He was sitting in first class, so his seat was not the simple, straightforward kind; it was highly mechanized and hard to access. He tried in vain to find his pen.

When all passengers were off the plane the stewardess helped him look for it, but to no avail. She finally said, “Mr. Whyte, the only thing left to do so is ask an engineer to board the plane and take the seat apart.” He gently said, “Please do.”

Twenty minutes later, with the seat torn apart, there it was…his pen.

Whyte says that from that moment on, he valued the pen even more, for it had been lost but now was found. 

He uses that story to teach an important truth: Sometimes losing something and then regaining it enhances our appreciation of it. Whyte even suggests that we should periodically play a mind game with ourselves in which we “experience” the lost/found/increased-value scenario, but without having actually suffered the loss. 

Try this:

• Close your eyes for a few minutes and imagine that two years ago you lost your sight. The world is now dark 24/7. Then imagine that through a medical procedure, or miracle, your sight has been restored. Now open your eyes and savor the sight of objects, people, colors, and shapes. The color red. A sunset. A loved one. You can drive a car again. You’ll have a greater appreciation for something you have taken for granted—sight. 
• Imagine that you have lost someone you love: a child, friend, or spouse. Think deeply about what life would be like without him or her; feel the sadness. But then remind yourself that you haven’t lost them, it’s just a mind game. 
• Imagine that you’re confined to solitary confinement. You’re in an 8×10 cell (slightly bigger than the average bathroom). You’re by yourself in the cell for 22 to 24 hours a day. When let out, it is into a small, solitary, outdoor area. But your confinement is only a daydream. With a new sense of gratitude, enjoy the rest of your day as the free person you really are.

Whenever I play this mind game, I become more grateful, less ill-tempered, more mindful and humbler, and more aware of God’s goodness and the joy of living life.