You Don’t Have to Understand Someone to See Their Humanity

By Sam Stimpson - Edited by Chat GPT - Image Credit: Keli Psych Group

There is a phrase we use quite often when trying to empathise with somebody:

“I understand.”

Usually, it is well meant. We’re trying to build a bridge between their experience and ours.

But increasingly I find myself wondering whether understanding should always be the goal.

Because sometimes, we simply cannot understand.

I cannot fully know what it is like to live your life, just as you cannot fully know what it is like to live mine. We bring different identities, histories, families, opportunities, experiences and traumas with us. And some of those differences matter enormously.

Shared humanity doesn't mean we're all the same

This is particularly important in inclusion work. Talking about shared humanity can very quickly slide into “we're all human”, as though recognising what we have in common somehow removes the inequalities between us.

It doesn't.

We do not all have the same access to power.

We are not all treated equally by institutions.

We do not all experience racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia or other forms of discrimination.

And the consequences of prejudice are not evenly distributed.

So this isn't an argument for overlooking difference. Quite the opposite.

We need to be able to see both. The things that make our experiences profoundly different and the humanity that connects us.

Understanding is not the same as excusing

This becomes much harder when we're dealing with someone whose behaviour we find objectionable. If somebody expresses a racist view, for example, our first responsibility isn't to make them feel comfortable about it. The harm matters. The person affected by that racism matters. Power and context matter.

But we can challenge the view while still being curious about where it came from.

What has this person been taught?

What experiences have shaped them?

Who do they listen to?

What are they afraid of?

What have they never had the opportunity to learn?

Those questions don't make racism less serious.

They help us understand what we may need to challenge if we actually want to change it.

There is a considerable difference between saying “I understand why you believe that” and “therefore, what you believe is acceptable.” The two don't have to travel together.

The danger of the villain

There is something else happening when we stop seeing humanity in people with whom we disagree. They become very easy to caricature.

Once somebody becomes one of those people, we no longer need to be curious about them. Their behaviour tells us everything we need to know. We can assign motives, make assumptions and dismiss anything that complicates the picture.

Social media doesn't exactly discourage this.

Outrage has an excellent marketing department. And there are, of course, behaviours and ideologies that need unequivocal challenge. Shared humanity should never become a demand that those experiencing harm must endlessly extend compassion to those causing it.

Nor should it become another burden placed on marginalised people: educate us, forgive us, understand us. This is exhausting!

Sometimes a boundary is necessary.

Sometimes consequences are necessary.

Sometimes walking away is necessary.

But none of those things requires us to believe that the person on the other side has somehow ceased to be human.

What if we started somewhere else?

Perhaps instead of beginning with:

“I understand because I've experienced the same thing,”

we could sometimes begin with:

“I may never understand your exact experience, but I recognise something of what it feels like to be human.”

I know what fear feels like.

I know what grief feels like.

I know what it is to want to belong.

I know what it is to get something wrong.

I know what it is to change my mind.

That doesn't erase difference. It gives us a place from which to approach it.

Inclusion needs accountability AND humanity

This is perhaps the tension we need to become more comfortable holding.

We can be uncompromising about injustice and curious about people.

We can centre the person experiencing harm and consider what might enable the person causing it to change.

We can recognise structural inequality and recognise individual humanity.

We can say, “That behaviour is unacceptable” without automatically arriving at “and therefore you are irredeemable.”

Because if our ambition is genuinely to create a more inclusive society, eventually somebody has to change.

And people rarely change because somebody has successfully humiliated them.

They change through experience. Relationships. Consequences. Education. Reflection. Sometimes discomfort. And occasionally because somebody gave them enough space to think differently without pretending that what they had done was acceptable.

Perhaps shared humanity isn't about agreeing more. Perhaps it is about becoming better at disagreeing, challenging and holding people accountable without losing sight of the human being in front of us.

And right now, that feels like something worth practising.