Stop avoiding the spiky parts
The hedgehog’s dilemma, also called the porcupine’s dilemma, is a metaphor used to illustrate the more difficult aspects of human intimacy. Arthur Schopenhauer and Sigmund Freud both used this dilemma to describe how individuals relate to society and to each other.
The dilemma asks us to imagine a group of spiky mammals, who are trying to move more closely together in order to share body heat on a cold day. However, the spikiness of these creatures presents a problem. The closer they get to each other, the more they get hurt.
Since the critters are unable to cuddle without sticking each other with their spines, they aren’t able to achieve the close, symbiotic relationship that they are all aiming for.
“In the same way,” wrote Schopenhauer,
“the need of society drives the human porcupines together, only to be mutually repelled by the many prickly and disagreeable qualities of their nature.”
The main idea that this story hopes to communicate is a great irony of the human experience: we can’t have relationships, or indeed, even interact with each other, without risking harming each other.
Anyone who has ever experienced a bad breakup, a family fight or the end of a friendship can attest to the risks we take when we get close to each other. Really, the same is true for anyone who has ever met a rude stranger, cleaned up someone else’s mess, or been or cut off in traffic.
The potential negative consequence of this situation (besides the obvious pain that we can cause each other), is the fact that this may cause us to become overly cautious.
Our fear of mutual harm alienates us from each other and weakens our relationships. Since our hearts have been hurt, we build walls around them in order to protect ourselves.
This problem has never been more relevant than today when our technology seems to be enveloping us in individual, solipsistic wombs.
You can press a button on your phone, and your groceries will be delivered to your doorstep. Really, if you had enough money, you could go basically your whole life without ever having to leave your house. In Japan, there’s even a word for a person who lives like that: hikikomori.
The fact that we can be social through our media doesn’t exactly incentivize us to participate in what one Reddit forum calls “a free-to-play MMORPG with 7 billion+ active players,” or Outside, also known as the real world.
You certainly don’t need to go anywhere to socially interact with people– it’s just a click away. It’s too easy to become disconnected in this day and age, be it physically or emotionally.
It’s safer in our private bubbles, comfortable behind our manufactured images of ourselves and our two-dimensional perceptions of others. It’s neater and clener– anyway, who wants to deal with all that messiness?
That’s what humanity is– messy. It’s not edited for political correctness, smoothed by a filter, cropped into a square, or optimized to appeal to a target audience.
When we get close to people in the real world, we aren’t just seeing the highlight reel. Or at least, in my opinion, we shouldn’t be. If we never let the people we’re close to see us for who we really are, are our relationships even meaningful?
It’s becoming harder to want to be seen, warts and all. I think we’re starting to forget what warts look like.
I understand why it’s tempting to retreat into the relative safety of shallower interactions.
It’s just so much easier to see the Facebook version of your college roommate, smiling in photos with his husband and kids, than to hear about his sister’s cancer or the medication he started taking for his depression.
You don’t really want to argue about the merits of capitalism with your out-of-work, out-of-touch uncle or hear about the alcoholism your ex-girlfriend’s new fiancé. Your Instagram doesn’t have to include details about your childhood or your relationship with your parents. The Twitter user agreement doesn’t ask us to be honest with others or ourselves.
Even outside, when people ask us how we are, we say “fine.”
We might say “good,” or “great,” or “okay.” It’s rare that we say anything like: “I’m overcome with bliss,” “I’m overwhelmed by grief,” “I feel awkward in this situation,” or even “I’m having a bad day” or “my butt really itches in these pants.”
Those things are too prickly.
Why not leave these intimate details at arm’s length, and avoid getting poked? Why not mind your own business, and leave well enough alone?
Because raw, authentic human connection is a huge part of what makes life worth living. If you ask that girl out, she might break up with you, but if you don’t, you’ll never travel the world together.
Because we can’t ever have trust without placing our faith in people. If you confide in a friend, they might judge you, but if you don’t, they’ll never understand what you’re going through.
Because no one can ever really know you, or appreciate you, for who you are, if the only version of you they ever get it one that you’ve created to make others feel comfortable. Because joy doesn’t mean anything without the knowledge of pain.
Take the risk.
People aren’t always soft; sometimes they are sharp as hell, and sometimes they’re going to hurt. Still, screw the spines. It’s cold out there, and I would rather be warm.
Wouldn’t you?
Originally published on medium.com on February 3rd, 2020.
Esoteric Epistemology 