We are all toxic

By Jason Lim

When I first landed in Queens, New York City, as a 12-year-old immigrant, the only time I saw the word, "toxic," was on a warning label affixed to a drain opener plastic container in a supermarket. In a similar vein, the imagery that I associated with "toxic" was the skull and crossbones icon used to denote something as poisonous. In a word, "toxic" was something that was serious, lethal and rare. Moreover, things were toxic, not humans.

Today, I encounter toxicity everywhere I turn, especially in the context of relationships advice. A friend of mine posted a link to an article in The Atlantic by Kaitlyn Tiffany titled, "That's it. You're dead to me," that really resonated because it articulated the discomfort that I had been subconsciously feeling in the last few years as the U.S. and the rest of the world seemed to careen into deepening sociopolitical division and contempt of our fellow citizens.

Tiffany writes, "I don't know who needs to hear this, a tweet will begin, suggesting that almost anyone might need to hear it, but if someone hurts your feelings, you are allowed to get rid of them." There is even a WebMD page about how to identify a "toxic person," defined aggressively unhelpfully as "anyone whose behavior adds negativity and upset to your life." Well, by that measure … ! Yes, everyone is basically toxic to everyone else.

Soon, I wouldn't be surprised to hear of a pseudo-psychologist who comes up with a toxicity meter that color-codes the level of relationship radiation that you are exposing yourself to by hanging out with "that" person, whether a friend, lover or even family member. On second thought, especially a family member, since who doesn't have a blood relative that's positively vampiric?

I guess we've always had people in our lives who may not be so good for us. But the act of labeling them as "toxic" implies a mental model that puts oneself in the center of a relationship circle surrounded by numerous circles that represent your "people" with varying circumferences and color schemes commensurate to the level of "toxicity" or "utility" to your person. It's like a multidimensional, selfish Venn diagram. It's a way of looking at relationships that's fundamentally different from how relationships actually work.

I recently heard an interview of Yuval Noah Harari of "Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind" fame, who said that most dating apps misunderstand a fundamental fact of human mating experience. He stated that, "Humans aren't consumers of mates, humans are producers of relationships."

Exactly. Relationships are not about one person finding the perfect product to try out and buy. Now imagine if two people each have to find that perfect product to buy, but they have to be that perfect product to each other. Even admitting that there is nothing "perfect," we are, at a minimum, trying to find that best deal for the price that we are willing or can afford to pay, which is ourselves.

Worse, we tend to overestimate our worth and underestimate the other's worth. Once we find a good enough deal, we then have to disguise what we really did by calling it "love." Mate searching is fundamentally transactional in the worst sort of the way, but we have to convince ourselves with the big lie that we are doing all this out of some destined love. It's a wonder that anyone gets married.

Unfortunately, we go through life thinking that consumption is the foundational way of relating to anything else. We treat everything as something we need to consume. To consume, we need to divide the world into consumers (us) and products. That's the essential worldview that we hold. It's mechanistic. It's reductionist. It literally reduces us into two roles that define our approach to thinking about everything.

But as Hariri says, we are producers of relationships. We come together as imperfect beings and co-create a relationship that is not static. Our Venn diagrams are not selfish, but self-centered, with a dynamic way of interacting with other self-centered circles in an undulating, holistic dance of needs, urges, and desires that may overlap across varying areas. And they change as time goes by. Other circles are not necessarily toxic because they veer away or bump into yours without merging.

Consumption presupposes a distant and disinterested judge of value, seeing something happening or manifesting entirely separate from your act of judging. But you are actively constructing what you are judging by the act of your valuing. What you bring to that act of judging, which is your preconceptions, bias, assumptions, etc., will inform that mental value of your potential mate. Ah, but such relationships are messy. More, we can't escape the blame if anything goes wrong.

What's toxic, ultimately, is our aversion to messiness and self-blame. We want our consumption to be foolproof and clean. And we want a warranty. If anything goes wrong, then it's your fault. We are all toxic.

Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.