Freud saw projection as a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with the thoughts and ideas that make someone anxious. By subconsciously attributing these unwanted thoughts and ideas on other people, one may be comforted by the false fact that they are not alone, or that there is someone else they can direct their anger towards instead of themselves. While I don’t disagree with this approach to psychoanalytic theory (I’m generally a Freudian up until his ideas on developmental life stages), this is a much more severe, and less common, form of my experience with projection.

Projection (or projection bias) can be defined as unconsciously assuming that others share the same or similar thoughts, beliefs, values, or positions on any given subject.

In this case, the fault lies in the assumption, and the assumption is based on the fact that many believe others to be like themselves. One may present this as a deductive logical argument, like so:

Premise 1:

I have felt this way in a certain situation / I would feel this way in a certain situation

Premise 2:

Someone else is in this situation

Conclusion:

Therefore, that person must feel the same way that I felt / that person must feel the way that I would feel

Although audiatur et altera pars is not necessarily seen as direct proof of a fallacy, the implicit premise involved in this argument is also the most important one.

Implicit premise:

All people think the way I do when put in the same situation.

This happens to be the premise that is false. It is also often implied, not on purpose, but because (and I’ll hazard an opinion here) humans are naturally egocentric. Many make solid judgments on things that are purely subjective, taking their view as Word. An example of this is someone saying, “This song is good”, instead of, “I think this song is good”. Sometimes this is the innocent result of laziness (of which I can be guilty), but in many cases, it’s due to the fact that the person actually refuses to believe anything else to be true.

It’s in the case of the latter that assumptions can lead to projection, what I find to be an extremely frustrating thing to deal with. If I don’t talk to someone, that doesn’t mean that I never want to talk to them again. For someone to assume this to be true of me, based on their own thoughts and ideas in the same situation, and then call me out on this, is ARROGANT. When I’m freshly out of a relationship, I feel stronger and inspired. For me, this is an inherent side-effect of breaking up. A break-up occurs due to the fact that there is unhappiness in a relationship, and when the relationship ends, there is a tremendous freedom from this unhappiness. For some people, the opposite is true, and for one of these people to “comfort” me because they think I feel worthless and doubtful is INSULTING.

I’ve worked hard to be a better person, to outgrow the weaknesses and faults that I’ve grown up with. For someone to believe that I have a weakness or fault that I’ve cast aside, simply because they haven’t yet, is just plain sad. This one hits me especially hard because it trivializes the tremendous amount of effort I put into self-improvement.

And as a result of what? Careless assumption. I’m not egocentric enough to believe that others think the way I do.

All I ask is that others do the same.

Let me make this perfectly clear.

I am not like you. I do not think the same way that you do. Never. Ever. EVER. Ever believe that you understand, or assume that you know, how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking just because you are, or have ever been, in the same situation.

To believe that you understand, is arrogant. To assume that you know, is an insult.

You’re usually wrong anyway.

While John was here, we got into a discussion about hypocrisy. Being the complex person that he is, he admitted that he sees no problem with acting in a hypocritical manner. In fact, he tried to convince me to feel the same way. “You’re letting your morals get in the way of advancement”, he would say. I don’t heed any of this advice, of course, because our mindsets, goals, and relationships are founded on two different sets of values, this being one of them. Having built the first twenty-four years of our lives on this foundation doesn’t make it difficult for us to change them, but makes us indifferent to change instead. As much as we like to consider ourselves dynamic individuals, able to adapt to a situation in the best manner possible, this is limited by our desire (or lack thereof) to do so.

In any case, I find it difficult to be a hypocritical person, and in turn, I find hypocritical people difficult. The most aggravating are those who are hypocritical critics. I don’t have a problem with people pointing out my flaws. I have them, and I admit it. It’s the first step towards self-improvement. It’s also great for gaining perspective, for learning how different people interpret things (because I know that many see problems where there are none).

I do, however, have a problem with the people who freely give criticism, when they can’t take it themselves. These are the hypocritial critics; the people who judge others past themselves, when they are the last ones who should be passing judgement on anyone. This hypocrisy may stem from something as complex as insecurity, to something as simple as upbringing (especially as a result of parents who refuse to admit fault to their children). It becomes especially important in equal (non-authoratative) relationships to recognize the barriers that get put up by such a double standard.

Funny how an authoratative relationship taught me this.

No, I didn’t learn this meaning of the word from grade school, or even from the ebonics primer at Dolemite Dot Com.

(Actually, I learned it from 2Pac’s Life Goes On)

Yeah.

I only recently had a modern day poseur pointed out to me. This isn’t the same as an intellectual poseur, this is the poseur of personality. The one’s who want to be quirky, eccentric, different.

At first, I didn’t notice; I was just annoyed. Then Loo’s perspicacity put a name to it. I can’t stop catching others now. I find that the one distinguishing behavior is the over-statement of character traits they wish to have, such as, “I did this funny thing because I want you to see me in a certain way, and by telling you this, I will make you believe that I am who I want you to believe”. Or “I like this song too₀ I listen to anything because I have widely varying tastes!”. Over-statement such as this may or may not be based on some kind of insecurity; some do it to hide because they’re uncomfortable with themselves, others just want to be memorable and only end up being remembered for the wrong reasons.

Sometimes it’s even worse on blogs, where people write one line posts that don’t say anything because they think they’re cool and cryptic and that people are interested in what they have to say. Or others who post conversations, and expect everyone else to understand or appreciate the humour behind them. Or even people who actually write about how they’re fucking INTELLIGENT, or GRAMMAR FREAKS, or ATTRACTIVE. Why the fuck do you need to state it? LET THE WORDS SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES. The key to writing is to SAY not TELL. Telling an audience how someone is feeling is nowhere near as effective as describing direct actions/thoughts/reactions related to those emotions without actually stating the emotions themselves.

In the end, it all makes me even more zealous about being humble, unassertive. I’ve always been one to “speak softly and carry a big stick”, as Teddy once put it. There are tons of great surprises when one doesn’t present all of oneself from the start. And after all, when one is revealed as a true self that doesn’t match the false image that’s projected on others, one ends up being a phony.

And I fucking hate phoneys.

Yesterday I was taking the bus home, sitting in an aisle seat next to someone (the part of the bus where there are four pairs of seats, two pairs facing forward on each side of the aisle). There was a girl in the seats in front of me, with her bag next to her, preventing someone from sitting there, and two people sitting in the seats across the aisle from her. Eventually, she made like she was going to get off at the next stop, and put her bag on her lap. The guy in the aisle seat across from her (at an angle to me) saw, and looked rapaciously at the soon-to-be-vacant window seat. Then he looked back at me, and saw me eying the seat as well, and going through the motions of a Tarantino joke from Desperado (“Dick, glass. Dick, glass. Dick, glass.”), except with me and the empty seat. As soon as he realizes that he might lose the coveted window seat to me, he gets up and sits in the recently vacated space next to the girl to reserve the spot, before she even gets up to leave. Eventually, the next stop comes along, and she doesn’t get off. Instead, the person who was sitting in the window seat next to him before he moved gets up and leaves. The guy looks over to the newly vacated window spot, and, too embarrassed to move back, just stays next to the girl, stewing in the consequences of his error.

I could feel his scalp starting to itch, the way a sudden break of sweat starts to tingle the pores along the back.

And then I walked over to the window seat, and slumped down comfortably. Learning to never make assumptions and never be too anxious was easy. It was learning to live that by those rules that was the hard part.

I also touched some guys leg with my fingers later on, because he rudely shoved his knees into my legs while making his way to a standing spot. Nothing makes a man jump like challenging his heterosexuality.