People are a messy amalgamation of tastes, intellect, backgrounds and foibles. We think we understand how things work, but we’re usually wrong. It’s akin to a pack of orcas thinking that all sea animals like seal meat simply because each one of the 10 orcas in their pod just love seal meat. Like the orcas, many people assume that their group’s beliefs and attitudes reflect a cross-section of the U.S. population.

They find each other

In fifth grade, my son tested into the gifted program because he could, among other things, guess the time of day a photo was taken based on the angle of the shadows. (In subsequent years he expressed frustration, and we made peace with the fact that it’s perfectly okay to be the stupidest person in the gifted program.)

As the school counselor explained the test results, I asked if we should do anything – if we should make an effort to surround our son with other smart kids. “Oh, no,” she said as if that was funny. “They find each other.”

That phrase – “They find each other” – stuck because it extends beyond the gifted program. As people walk through life, they sift through an army of acquaintances. Some are trashed; some filed away for a later day; some called upon in specific situations; some a forever-friend. Through an unending series of schools, jobs and social events, people meet thousands of new faces each year, and many thousands in a lifetime. And with each one, they filter, sifting that army of faces down to a handful of close friends. It’s not conscious but it’s also no accident.

As a result, a person’s handful of close friends and acquaintances doesn’t represent a cross-section of America, even if the group has a sprinkling of skin colors, religions and sexual preferences.

We “find each other.”

The proof

Families share DNA and history, but few people get along as well with family members as they do with friends. Most families have at least one person you can’t stand, one with polar-opposite political views, and one with sexual idiosyncrasies that brothers, sisters and cousins agree to ignore. This group – the one people don’t get to pick – should agree about most things thanks to that history and DNA link. But they don’t.

That relative who disagrees point-by-point politically? He’s not alone. He has a cadre of non-relative friends who believe the exact same thing. That sexual idiosyncrasy? You don’t have sex alone, so he’s found others. (Yeah. Masturbation joke goes here.) That cousin you can’t stand? She has best friends who think her life attitude is dead on. Each has filtered their group. And each group thinks its attitudes are mainstream.

Political loggerheads

In politics, the left rolls its eyes (but turns up the volume) when Sarah Palin speaks, as if everyone understands that she’s a joke. The right has no regrets repeating the mantra that Obama is the worst president ever. Politicians on both sides say “The American people want …” as if they speak for everyone. Part of that’s political BS; part of that happens because they believe it’s true – and they believe it’s true because their group agrees.

“Finding each other” isn’t a problem. It’s actually pretty cool how people sort and file and end up discovering like-minded individuals who make them happy.

But assuming your group speaks for all humanity is. A college professor once called group-fed assumptions a “survey of one.” I didn’t like him much, but that stuck, so maybe I should give him credit now that I’ve included his wisdom in print.

As a people, we can’t work together without understanding others. And we can’t understand others if we “find each other” and assume truth based on our “survey of one.”

© 2015 SmithTakes.com