On Looking Normal, or a reflection on positive deception

A businessman and a hippie walk into a bar. They both look the part. Before speaking to each other they already know what the other will say. Any topic they discuss will be filtered through assumptions. “I already disagree with you” is the point of departure. Even if they strike up a congenial conversation, even if they happen to agree on most things, even if they could gain real, potentially life-changing insight from one another, their discussion will no doubt remain guarded, tempered by grains of salt on either side.

When we present ourselves in a particular way, when we cover our faces in tattoos, say, or wear expensive watches and jewellery, we are saying something about our worldview and our values. These things are inherently unifying and divisive. They are a badge that invites the confidences of the likeminded while at the same time repelling those of a different persuasion. Of course we can all long for a world where we will overlook such superficial differences, but the fact is first impressions are one of the primary ways that people organize and understand the world.

As a professor, I don’t want people to look at me and think “Oh, he’s that type of guy. I’ve already made up my mind about that type. I will note his ideas and regurgitate them back to him but keep myself insulated from taking them to heart.” In order to make an impact I need to navigate first impressions. For the same reason, when I travel I try to look fairly neutral. I don’t want to be judged as a wealthy tourist or a spoiled American kid when I visit Haiti. Unable to change the colour of my skin, I want to minimize preconceptions and let my voice and my ideas speak for themselves.

I’m not a “normal person.” I have particular (some might say eccentric) beliefs and interests. I have specific ideas about what’s wrong with the world and what needs to change. But if I want people to listen to my abnormal opinions I need to present myself as relatively normal. I’m not a normal person, but I appreciate the usefulness of looking like one.