Lina Irawan
In the quiet, often overlooked corners of our daily language, there exists a linguistic trap that quietly dictates the boundaries of our potential. It is a subtle cognitive habit—the tendency to project our personal experiences, biases, and circumstances onto the rest of humanity. When we say, "People like me are naturally this way," or "It’s just human nature to want more," we are doing more than just making a statement; we are constructing an invisible, self-imposed cage.
The danger of assuming our experience is universal is not merely a philosophical concern; it is a psychological barrier that prevents change. By labeling our personal struggles as universal truths, we inadvertently absolve ourselves of the responsibility—and the power—to choose a different path.
The Genesis of the Assumption: A Case Study in Minimalism
The realization of this linguistic trap often surfaces during the most mundane of conversations. Years ago, while discussing the philosophy of minimalism, I encountered a woman who had begun the arduous task of decluttering her home. As she navigated the emotional weight of letting go, she sighed and remarked, "It’s just really difficult for me because I’m a woman. And women like nice things."
She did not speak with malice; she spoke with the conviction of someone describing a law of physics. To her, this was not an opinion; it was an observable fact of life. Yet, my mind immediately populated with a mental gallery of the dozens of women I have worked with and observed—women who have found profound, life-altering freedom in the radical simplification of their environments. These women were not captivated by the allure of "nice things," nor were they beholden to the cultural scripts suggesting they should be.
My response to her was a simple, one-word adjustment: "Well, not all women like nice things. Just some do."
That single word—"some"—acts as a pivot point. If we believe that all women are biologically or socially destined to crave material excess, then minimalism becomes an impossible, contradictory goal. But if we recognize that the desire for "nice things" is a preference held by some rather than a universal requirement for all, the landscape shifts. Suddenly, there is room for choice. There is space to opt-out.
Chronology of a Limiting Belief
To understand how these assumptions take root, we must look at how our personal histories evolve into universal dogma. The process typically follows a predictable trajectory:
- The Formative Experience: We grow up in a specific environment—a household where clutter is equated with comfort, where status is defined by consumption, or where certain personality traits are normalized.
- The Internalization: We absorb these patterns as the "default" setting for human behavior. Because we have not seen an alternative, we assume none exists.
- The Verbalization: We begin to use "universal" language. We say, "I am a procrastinator," "I am just a shopaholic," or "Men/women/people are just wired this way."
- The Limitation: Once the behavior is codified as a universal truth, we cease trying to change it. We adopt a fatalistic outlook: "It’s not just me; everyone is the same way, so I can’t help it."
This progression is dangerous because it masks a behavioral preference as an immutable identity. When we treat our habits as universal constants, we surrender our agency.
Supporting Data: The Psychology of False Consensus
Psychologists refer to this phenomenon as the "False Consensus Effect." It is a cognitive bias where people tend to overestimate the extent to which their own opinions, beliefs, and habits are typical of those of others. Research into social cognition suggests that we use ourselves as the primary "anchor" when judging the world. If we find ourselves struggling with impulse control, we assume that impulse control is a near-universal human failure, rather than a skill that can be cultivated or a trap that can be avoided.
Consider the data on upbringing and behavioral outcomes. A striking illustration of this occurred after a speaking engagement, where a woman recounted her upbringing in a home ravaged by extreme hoarding.
"Because of that experience," she explained, "I became a minimalist because I wanted nothing to do with that lifestyle. But my sister, who grew up in the exact same environment, became a hoarder."
This anecdotal evidence is supported by psychological studies on resilience and divergent paths. Siblings raised in the same "universal" environment often reach radically different conclusions about what that environment means. The environment does not dictate the outcome; our interpretation of the environment does. If the sister who became a hoarder had assumed, "Everyone who grows up like this becomes a hoarder," she would have been trapped by a false universality. By recognizing that her sibling—who had the exact same childhood—chose a different path, we see the fallacy of the "universal" excuse.
Official Perspectives: Breaking the Cycle
Experts in cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) emphasize that the language we use to describe our limitations is the primary architect of our reality. When we replace universalizing language with specific, choice-based language, we reclaim control.
- The Shift from "I am" to "I choose": Instead of saying "I am a person who needs lots of stuff to be creative," an artist might say, "I have historically surrounded myself with objects, but I am now exploring if I can be creative with fewer."
- The Deconstruction of "They": When we hear someone say, "Men love cars" or "People need social media validation," the antidote is to intentionally seek out the counter-examples. The more we expose ourselves to the diversity of human experience, the weaker our "universal" assumptions become.
Orson Welles famously stated, "The enemy of art is the absence of limitation." If an artist buys into the myth that they require a massive studio and endless materials to be productive, they remain a prisoner to their own assumption. They ignore the reality that many of history’s greatest works were created under the strictest constraints.
Implications for Personal and Professional Life
The implications of abandoning universal assumptions are profound. When we stop projecting our limitations onto the world, we open the door to three specific benefits:
1. Increased Agency
When you accept that your behavior is a choice rather than a biological or social imperative, you move from a mindset of "I can’t" to "I am choosing to." This is the foundational step of all meaningful personal development.
2. Greater Empathy
Assuming our experience is universal often leads to judgment. We judge others for not living the way we do, or we judge ourselves for failing to meet the "standard." By recognizing that everyone has a unique path—and that there is no single "right" way to be a man, a woman, or a human—we cultivate a deeper, more nuanced sense of empathy.
3. Expanded Possibility
The world is significantly larger than our personal history. Once you realize that the story you have been telling yourself about who you are is not the only story that can be told, the limitations you once felt become flexible. You can rewrite the script.
Conclusion: Reclaiming Your Path
The goal of identifying these universal assumptions is not to be pedantic or to diminish the reality of your personal struggles. It is, quite the opposite, to provide a path to liberation.
If you grew up in a home where fashion was the primary metric of worth, you are not obligated to carry that torch. If you believe that your past defines your future, you are making a universal assumption that is simply not true. You are not a prisoner to your upbringing, your social circle, or your past habits.
Change is always possible, but it begins with the courage to question the stories we treat as truths. The next time you find yourself saying "People like me…" or "It’s just the way things are," pause. Challenge that thought. Seek out the evidence that suggests otherwise. You may find that the freedom you have been looking for was hidden behind a single, small word all along. You are not destined to repeat the patterns of your past; you are free to define your own future.
Azzam Bilal Chamdy
Asro
