In a world increasingly defined by division, we find ourselves trapped in a paradoxical cycle: the categories we create to understand our society reinforce the divisions we claim to oppose. Left or right, Democrat or Republican, worker or elite, pro-choice or pro-life—these labels don’t just describe reality; they actively shape it.
The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy of Classification
Consider what happens when a union leader rallies workers against the “elite class.” In that moment of naming and opposing the elite, the leader affirms their existence and strengthens the binary. Labeling creates a conceptual boundary that might not otherwise exist with such rigidity. We end up trapped in a self-perpetuating system where our attempts to challenge power structures inadvertently validate their conceptual foundations.
Our political discourse has become particularly susceptible to this trap. When we identify as “left” or “right,” we immediately place ourselves in opposition to roughly half of our fellow citizens. These identifications aren’t merely descriptive—they become prescriptive, influencing how we interpret information, which communities we join, and ultimately how we understand ourselves. The more strongly we identify with these labels, the more impenetrable the divisions become.
Inverting Our Linguistic Paradigm
Perhaps the first step toward transcending these divisions lies in a fundamental shift in our language. Notice how we commonly say a “person has cancer,” or a “person is unemployed,” or a “person lives in poverty.” This syntax subtly suggests that these conditions are properties or attributes of the individual—characteristics that define them.
What if we inverted this construction? What if we said “cancer got this person,” “unemployment got that person,” or “poverty got this community”? This simple linguistic shift externalizes these conditions, positioning them not as defining features but as outside forces that affect us. It reminds us that these challenges are not inherent to our being but situations to be confronted and overcome.
This inversion is equally powerful when applied to positive states. Instead of saying “the founder has curiosity,” we might say “curiosity fuels the founder.” Rather than “the team has creativity,” we could say “creativity seized the design team after the deadline moved.” Notice how these constructions transform abstract qualities into tangible forces we can engage with, reach toward, and even touch. They become energies we can harness rather than properties we simply possess.
This linguistic reframing carries profound implications. When poverty is something that “gets” a person rather than something a person “has,” we recognize it as an external force that requires collective action. Similarly, when curiosity is something that “fuels” us, we acknowledge it as a renewable resource we can cultivate. The burden of negative conditions shifts from the individual to the condition itself, fostering solidarity rather than division. At the same time, positive forces become dynamic energies we can actively invite into our lives and communities.
Imagine: Humanity Unbounded by Labels
Now, envision a world where we relate to each other primarily as humans, not as representatives of artificial categories. Imagine communities where people aren’t perpetually sorted into opposing groups but are recognized first for their shared humanity. This doesn’t mean ignoring meaningful differences—it means refusing to let those differences become impermeable boundaries that prevent mutual understanding and collective action.
In this vision, artificial intelligence could play a pivotal role, not as a replacement for human connection but as an amplifier of our collective knowledge and problem-solving capacity. When we need information or solutions, AI could provide instantaneous access to the collective wisdom of humanity without the distorting lens of political or social categorization.
The Path Forward
Abandoning our deeply entrenched habits of classification won’t happen overnight. These patterns are embedded not just in our language but in our institutions, media, and education systems. Yet small shifts in how we speak and think can initiate cascading changes in how we perceive reality.
Begin by noticing when you automatically categorize someone based on a perceived political affiliation, socioeconomic status, or other grouping. Catch yourself when you say “she has depression” and consider the subtle difference in saying “depression got her.” Similarly, observe how saying “inspiration struck the team” rather than “the team was inspired” transforms a passive state into an active, generative force. These minor linguistic adjustments gradually reshape our conceptual landscape.
The beauty of this approach is that it opens us to both challenge and possibility. When we say “joy overtook her,” we recognize joy as something we can actively invite and cultivate. When we say “wonder captured the child,” we acknowledge the living quality of curiosity that we can nurture. Our language becomes descriptive and invitational, calling forth the positive forces we wish to experience while externalizing the challenges we must collectively overcome.
The true revolution of our time might not be technological but conceptual—a fundamental shift in how we understand our relationship to each other and to the challenges we face. By transcending the divisive labels that have dominated our discourse, we might discover that many of the problems we thought were intractable were actually sustained by the very frameworks we used to understand them.
In a world beyond rigid labels, we might finally build the unity necessary to address our most pressing collective challenges. The first step is recognizing that in naming divisions, we create them, and in transcending those names, we might finally move beyond them.