Heed Hanlon not Holmes: Don't Psyche Yourself Out
Never attribute to malice what can be adequately explained by incompetence: this is Hanlon’s razor. Add this to your inventory. Level it up. Master it.
You don’t need to shave to understand how a good shave and a good social life ain’t so different. Both are all about “saving face”, each requiring both steady nerves and a clear view or reflection of the situation. College is full of “situations”.
Plus, reputation is paramount, so when we fear we've messed up, we're compelled to investigate, play Sherlock, resolve the situation, and emerge the hero. Too bad a detective’s magnifying glass by nature distorts perception.
So pay attention, cuz y’all college-aged brains are ESPECIALLY prone to certain ((over)(re))actions. Understand those reasons, familiarize yourself with their effects, and, before turning to the inner Sherlock ever-lurking in your brain, learn to hit up Hanlon, because it AIN'T the former who can help us climb out of the pits we sometimes convince ourselves we've dug ourselves into.
– A Curiously Common Case –
Week 2, done. I’m KILLING it. I talk. They listen. Smile. Laugh. Strutting along, I spot that sophomore I met last week at a party, and again at the library. A short distance away, she and some friends exit the dining hall. She sees me. I smile. Expressionless, she turns, walks, and disappears into another building.
What the HELL did I do?
(Eyes narrow) What the hell DID I DO?
She wouldn’t just…not for no reason.
Okokok. RECAP. What just happened?
What about since we met?
Alright brain, SHOW ME EVERYTHING.
Crap! She heard about the hook-up! She thinks I’m a player!
Now what do I do?
It’s not always an unreturned greeting – sometimes a text left on “read”, or a seat taken at a different table – but it’s always a train(wreck) of a thought process.
Funny thing about the brain is that you can’t present it with a question without directing it towards a certain type of answer. Ask “Why can’t I just enjoy this party?” and your brain starts from “I can’t enjoy myself” and heads towards “I am the anti-joy.” Instead, ask “How can I have some fun here?” and you just might make some new friends.
Or you’ll be puking.
Look, not all answers are equal, and you should be focusing on the right questions.
The Social Faux-Pas
During the first few weeks of college, most tread lightly on their new stomping grounds. Overprotective of nascent reputations, some slip into panic mode from even the slightest of social missteps. Reputations are not well-maintained by hopping onto self-sabotaging trains of thought that fastrack you to NowhereGood.
Above, our obviously anxious and overthinking student hopped on that train, overreacting not to a problem but to a premise that presupposed a problem and his guilt. Next, he set about to figure out what he already “knew”. His evidence? Almost exclusively his own actions and speculations.
Stories like these usually end four text message drafts later, explaining how I’m so sorry if I gave you the wrong idea about me.
Imagine giving Sherlock Holmes information about one suspect and asking him to solve a murder. He’ll solve it, and in the most Sherlock way possible. Only literature’s most notorious coked-out detective could so frenetically magnify the tiniest of nothing-clues, details so out-there nobody in their right mind would ever think to call them clues, and then connect them to prove a predetermined guilt!
*Sherlock works by abduction, not deduction; I don’t care what you heard.
Sherlock’s stories work because Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was actually a physician and actually solved a murder. Freshmen’s stories don’t work because freshmen are not.
The Imaginary Audience
College students especially need to worry about this one. “The imaginary audience” is what makes us feel like “somebody” is always watching and scrutinizing and evaluating our every move.
And, no, America’s lack of CCTV does not weaken this feeling…
The notion is nonsense, for what is an audience but an assembly of spectators specifically gathered to observe a specific event. There’s intention. A plan! A schedule! So, unless you’re a celebrity…get over yourself.
Unfortunately, recognizing its ridiculousness doesn’t diminish its influence. I fight it every time I push the pull door at Meraki. Was I witnessed? Probably. Was I being watched? Well, I did come out in a rap video. Once. Years ago…*
*...for 1.5 seconds. (Vasco - Whoa Ha for the curious)
Or maybe I should get over myself.
The imaginary audience is innate. It’s insidious. It makes our memories into an endless reel of our most trivial mistakes, but with the most dramatic lighting and music. We are captivated by a pattern of perceived incompetences and held captive by trivialities distorted into transgressions.
The best part? It feels oh-so real.
Real feelings with real influence over thoughts, behaviors, and reactions.
Fortunately, knowledge of the imaginary audience is its own undoing. If everyone is too busy overthinking themselves, they’re not overthinking you.
We’re born with tickets for this ride!
Hanlon, not Holmes
Okay, free ticket! How do we NOT use it? For this, we train ourselves to avoid it. If we’re already on it, we learn to recognize we’re on it and then how to jump off*.
*45 degrees to compensate for momentum. PLF. It helps to focus on a distant object.
The plan? Keep calm and call Hanlon. Hanlon’ll help us cut through the bullcrap.
And that’s my best transition to Hanlon’s razor, which states that one should
“Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by neglect.” (Or stupidity.)
What does this mean?
It means that our fictitious friend didn’t respond to me NOT because she hates me. Maybe she didn’t see me. Maybe it was me who didn’t see her smile back. Maybe she’s one of those people who refuse to say “Hi” first. To anyone. Or maybe something else entirely!
Holmes offers crazed theories about how and why you did it.
Hanlon offers calm theories about how you don’t have to suck at life.
So who you gonna call?
Choose wisely.