The other person that we perceive as most similar to us -and as resembling others who are also like us- is the least likely to be prejudged. We see them as complex individuals, expressing a high variability in their traits and qualities.
On the other hand, the other person that we perceive as different becomes, above all, a simple collection of signs for us to interpret in a rather straightforward way. They are grouped according to their common displaying of these signs. And their traits are defined solely according to what the signs represent. As a result, they are homogenised into groups characterised by a few simple, repeating, predictable traits.
In short, the different other is homogenised, while the similar other is humanised.
The greater the similarity, the more a person is attributed a diverse range of variable traits, which signifies complexity. In contrast, for the different other, the attribute of being different, along with the reduced set of possible meanings that this condition implies, becomes their primary, face-value trait.
The difference between context-based and historic meanings
A case that illustrates this phenomenon is that of the skinny jean. Fashion writer Derek Guy observed that nowadays the skinny jean has become a wardrobe staple for men who “lament the decline of traditional masculinity”1. He points out the irony that just over a decade ago skinny jeans were seen as a reactionary trend that defied traditional masculine clothing. By being significantly tighter than what were considered normal male pants at the time, they recalled the silhouette of female outfits. In their latest rise to trendiness, skinny jeans were an item to bring connotations of androgyny into the wearer’s clothing style.
Within the framework that I am proposing, Derek Guy’s observation builds upon the view that skinny jeans carry a historic symbolic meaning that transcends their context in everyday use. In other words, as a standalone piece, they act as a statement about the male silhouette, one that has already been used to defy traditional stark distinctions between the sexes2. And this is not a reference to a distant past such as 18th century masculinity, when tight breeches revealing strong calves were a mark of virility. It points to a time as recent as 15 or 20 years ago.
However, when I say that there is a meaning in their context in everyday use, I mean that the skinny jean might have indeed held that gender-defying symbolism 15 or 20 years ago. But this is not due to a timeless objectivity of their deliberately revealing silhouette, i.e. its context transcending historic meaning as a marker of androgyny or of rock-‘n-roll counterculture. Rather, their meaning arose from a reactionary contrast to what was considered ‘normal’ at the time, when wider, baggier fits were the trend, and anything from a straight to a wide cut was seen as the most inconspicuous. Just as pants in the early 19th century initially entered fashion as a reaction to breeches, the skinny jeans of the 00’s similarly emerged in opposition to wider pants.
And here lies the key word: ‘inconspicuous’. Nowadays, Regardless of what conceptions a person with a developed appreciation for fashion history and its symbolism might hold, the skinny jean has become a marker of inconspicuousness among men. It signals an intention towards a non-statement: “I am a man of ideas and action, I do not care about conveying any superfluous message with my appearance. I do not care about wasting time on shallow things (perhaps deemed feminine?) such as consciously thinking about fashion, trends, or standing out by a difference in appearance in qualitative terms”. This is a statement that purports to erase any symbolic meaning that clothing might hold, calling similar others to ‘look beyond the item’s visual/symbolic statements’.
Thus, within this framework of similarity as humanisation and difference as homogenisation, the skinny jean functions as a marker of similarity.
Skinny jeans are markers of similarity
All wearers of skinny jeans share a similarity in the sense that other non-similar ‘sartorial statements’ pose significant obstacles to humanising the different other. This happens at least in what we might call a ‘default state’.
Let’s say that a ‘default state’ of observing the similar and the different is one where we are not motivated to make that extra effort to read and understand the other (ie. to interpret them). The reason for this is that the amount of time and cognitive resources necessary to understanding the other might not be as directly actionable as holding on to the internal coherence of our own narratives. It is an effort that leads to an energy-consuming erosion and convolution of the network of categories we use to simplify and interpret the world around us. This applies especially to interpreting other people, such as in our forming of theories of mind. In short, the default state is one of opting for paths of least resistance.
In a default state, if we adopt the point of view of a skinny jeans wearer looking to make a non-statement, we will perceive the use of wider dress pants or jeans as ‘difference’. Yet it is a homogenising kind of difference.
Wider dress pants as a homogenising difference
All wearers of wider dress pants are seen as making a conscious, enigmatic statement. It is in this perceived mystery that we will impose a single interpretation of it. We read the person as an ‘other’ with a particular ideological stance, characterised by displaying an apparent frivolity that overshadows other traits that would communicate transparency, utility, and authenticity. Some of these overshadowed traits could be virile strength, resourcefulness, a pragmatism that transcends the need for sartorial choices that are not evidently useful, or an inner-value that radiates through action and results rather than being artificially expressed merely through curated, sewn fabrics and symbols.
On the other hand, the wearer of skinny jeans who is similar to us will be observed through qualities that go beyond any statements we might otherwise read in their appearance were they different to us. The range of variable traits we notice and evaluate is larger. These traits can encompass anything personality-related such as their personal taste, the details in their political views, their hobbies, their particular skills, their potential to collaborate with oneself, etc. Our view of them is not clouded by the presuppositions that rush in once we categorise them as a different other. These assumptions do not stop, hinder or overshadow our interpretation of them. In this way, they are humanised.
Our interpretation of that similar other is not encumbered by those first interpretative (or symbolic) obstacles -those ‘mysterious statements’- that we encounter with the different other. The skinny jean signals to us that sartorially-speaking there is little to read there beyond ‘similarity’, inviting us to engage directly in humanising them. As a result, we will not anticipate any significant cognitive resource to be grudgingly spent on deciphering them, as if they were an unknown statement of any particular relevance.
Again, this reflects our tendency to default to the easiest path. With the skinny jean wearer similar to us, the path of least resistance is to humanise them, to notice the traits that make them a unique individual with views worth our attention, consideration, and respectful engagement.
Conversely, the path of least resistance to interpreting the different other is to stop at the first obstacle, the first sign of either a significant yet baffling difference, or a difference that is already codified in a particular way. First, we interpret them as ‘different’, which is the first signal. Then, we homogenise them under one or a handful of homogenising categories drawn from the narrow set that we typically associate with this particular signal of difference. And at best, we may ascribe only slight variations among them, variations that correspond to a few other signals compatible to these pre-established categories.
We remain stationed at the first obstacle -a first sign of difference such as ‘having a large tattoo’- and, never going further, we assemble our impression of that different other from this repertoire of simplified deductions that this marker of ‘difference’ permits:
“They are wearing these wider dress pants, why are they doing so? It must surely be because…”
“They are expressing disagreement over an idea that is conventional to my ideology. It must surely be because…”
“They are using an ample and precise vocabulary to express themselves. It must surely be because…”
Expected and unexpected differences
Naturally, the list of differences requiring thoughtful interpretation but instead met with homogenising preconceptions is vast. However, the idea is straightforward: in a default state where we aim to conserve cognitive resources, especially in understanding the different other, the process resembles a form of litmus testing. The presence of one sign corresponds to a narrow set of meanings, and we organise our ideas about others, and society at large, by performing these tests on what is different. I might clarify that some differences are already ‘predictable’, and thus are conventionally codified by those who see themselves as similar to each other. For example, a man with painted nails will be quickly categorised because this particular difference has already been codified.
Other differences are ‘unexpected’. In these cases homogenisation begins by labelling someone first and foremost as ‘different’, ‘extravagant’, ‘attention-seeking’, ‘pretentious’ and such. We then search for other traits that are compatible with these pre-made categories, constructing our reading of the other with them. To use an analogy, it is like crafting a story about someone with very limited granularity: rather than having access to every word in the English dictionary, we are limited to assembling it from a narrow set of pre-made sentences.
Similarity is humanising in that one of its strongest signals conveys this message: the similar other is worth closer attention and deserves a positive predisposition (e.g. the benefit of the doubt). Difference is homogenising in that it carries many pre-installed meanings, attributed simply by virtue of being different. Most importantly, these meanings act as interpretative obstacles that prevent the, we might say prejudiced, observer to humanise the other in the sense that I outlined in this text.
A phenomenon of cognitive economy that we all necessarily experience
Fundamentally, this phenomenon is one of cognitive economy. Just as we create concepts and symbols to simplify the world around us and make it cognitively bearable, we are more prone to give those who are similar the benefit of doubt, and consider them in more detail than those who are different. I refer to this as ‘economy’ because it is clear that our resources for attention, observation, and reflection are limited, requiring us to make choices, both consciously and unconsciously.
This means that we as humans are all guilty of this tendency. This text itself is simplifying (albeit consciously, as an exercise to illustrate an idea) how a particular different other, the ‘skinny jean wearer lamenting the decline of traditional masculinity’, might think. Nonetheless, it also attempts to humanise them by combing through layers of possible explanations for their behaviour, that do not fall into the simpler, conventional presupposition of their being comically ignorant, and perhaps hypocritical, about the true symbolic weight of their sartorial choices.
Expanding our criteria of what constitutes similarity: squinting to spot overlooked commonalities
Something approaching a solution to this issue is to intentionally expand our idea of what ‘similarity’ is. To continue employing language borrowed from economics, I believe that we can choose to manage our cognitive resources more ‘efficiently’ so that we can expand our criteria of what constitutes similarity. I also believe that, to succeed in maintaining this shift with consistency, more than mere rational effort is required: we could live with an openness on the emotional level to humanise the other just a bit more. If the human other is the end in themselves, rather than a means to an end, we choose to make a habit out of broadening our criteria for similarity, even if it requires some effort or small sacrifices, simply because the other is a human being.
Additionally, we may try to become more aware of the counterproductive homogenisations that we apply when evaluating the different other. This applies in all irresponsibly broad accusations that circulate conventionalised language, such as ‘racist’, ‘fascist’, ‘[insert broad ideology]’ or ‘narcissistic’ to name a few of the most homogenising and least humanising ones. They result in a process of mutual alienation, where attempting to provide cues for others to interpret what we are about becomes an impossible mission of dodging homogenising categories as much as we humanly can. It is often impossible because of difference and cognitive economy: being different becomes the barrier to interpretation, and the required tax to get through homogenising categories is considered too high for most people going about their daily lives.
Undermining and substituting the labels we use to homogenise and generalise others who are different
So, to conclude this on an open note, such as I expanded my criteria for similarity by seeing the ‘skinny jean wearer lamenting the loss of traditional masculinity’ as sharing my human, cognitively economic tendency to humanise those similar to us, I could also become aware of and undermine my usual go-to categories when labelling a different other. To undermine them is not restricted to becoming critical of them or simply erasing them. Like most habits, substitutes need to occupy the interpretive void left by their absence.
The ideal substitute would be plural: smaller fractions of categories used to interpret the other that apply to the same perceived trait (such as ‘man with painted nails’). And these fractions ought to be non-restricting, that is they cannot be so broad or judgemental (good or bad in absolute terms) that they exclude most other potential traits, or that they are incompatible with them: instead of ‘culturally ignorant, insecure, retrograde conservative man’, we might use the skinny jeans, as markers of a search for making sartorial choices carriers of insignificant meaning and symbolism (or, in the jargon I developed in this text: statements of non-statements). We might ascribe this search to a wish to simplify self-expression through personal appearance and give precedence to other aspects of one’s presentation as an individual.
As the reader might note, these are not intrinsically good or bad, and they do not necessarily imply other traits such as retrograde, or chauvinistic, that might accompany homogenising categories. In this way, by expanding our criteria for similarity, or undermining our default, go-to homogenising categories to interpret the different other, we can begin to speak to the other and about the other in more truthful, and less restricting ways, simultaneously opening more avenues for cognitively economic mutual understanding and communication.
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