Rambling Thoughts on Subjectivity (or the bane of it)

A subject is a class of study a student engages in school such as English, Maths, or History. A subject also refers to a citizen of a country such as the Queen’s subjects. In contrast, an object usually denotes an inanimate thing, unless we use it metaphorically such as an object of ridicule, which connotes a person who is a laughing stock by dint of action or word.

By extension, in exam lingo, a subjective test is one that requires an essay type of answers strung from an array of complete sentences that follow the time-honored regimen of Introduction – Body – Conclusion. The answer could be factual, describing some physical phenomena or explaining them, or it could be entirely conjectural, speculative such as describing a future scenario, say in the year 2020, or it could be purely imaginary, fictional as in writing a composition.

An objective test, on the other hand, is another name for multiple-choice format. One just chooses an answer from several candidates. Invariably there is only one right answer, or one that is closest to the “truth”.

Then we have their longest variants: subjectivity and objectivity. Subjectivity can range from mere personal musings to highly opinionated views and even bigoted statements that impose on others. At the other end of the spectrum, objectivity implies impartiality, one that is premised on the fact of the matter, and not contingent upon the status of the messenger.

There is a Chinese saying that reads, loosely translated, those involved are confused while the bystanders are clear. In others words, if we take one step back, we would be able to not only have a clarified view, but also see the big picture. Oftentimes, we may feel that too much is at stake, and that we cannot trust the ability of others to attain the noble goals that we have set for ourselves. So no delegation.

Another variation is our fixation on our own views, our judgment so clouded by our own sense of self-importance bordering on megalomania that we simply ignore sensible inputs from others and bulldoze right through.

The result is the same: the goal is derailed, and a nightmarish inter-personal relation ensues, with hurt egos all round. The initial passion drummed up by the ideal of a seemingly common goal wanes. Not willing to function like a rubber stamp, team members start to have second thoughts, and either resign to a subsidiary role or from the team altogether.

The negativity is especially galling if it were generated by the leader’s behavior, intentionally or otherwise for perception is what drives people to act. To lead, one must know the mindset of those who would like to be led, and the cultural milieu within which the leadership is exercised. An opinionated style may work in a passive society whose members have long been conditioned to toe the line, to not question but to do as told. But it will surely be doomed in a progressive society where a healthy dose of skepticism is commonplace, and where individual thought is revered.

This is where finesse comes in. It is not tantamount to greasing the wheel that turns by expedient means, but a wholesome application of respecting others’ views, and a wholehearted acceptance of the adage that there is no I in the team. Everybody counts, and those not being counted are merely untapped talents, their latent ability waiting to be brought forth by the wise leader.

It would take both the one who leads and those who are led to achieve a common destiny shared by all. Without one or the other, one is just placing obstacles along the way. So in a sense, both are equally indispensable, but at the same time, no one is truly indispensable. So have trust in people who want to do good.