Can I see in color, please?

There are many times in our culture when two labels are created to describe something that is actually far more diverse than what can fit under just two groupings. These two labels become so culturally pervasive that, suddenly, we no longer see the spectrum that was once there. It is either one thing or the other.

Choose black or white, because suddenly any other color is not an option. While I’m sure the widespread use of “binary” and “dualism” is not limited to the meanings I attribute to them, these labels are what I am thinking of when I use these words in this article.

I chose to use the word “binary” because one great example of this is commonly referred to as a gender binary. The most obvious level that this dualism works on is individual people: a person’s genitals designate whether their gender is male or female, and in the rare case that their genitals are ambiguous, they may be arbitrarily assigned a gender. This dualism works on more than just individuals, however. Gender is also associated with clothes, colors, toys, mannerisms, extracurricular activities, social customs, careers, movie genres … the list goes on and on.

Closely related to the gender binary is sexuality. It’s socially acceptable in mainstream American culture to be a heterosexual, and it’s slowly becoming more acceptable to be homosexual. With the exception of some more progressive cultural circles, these are really the only two sexual orientations recognized by many people.

A person is either straight or gay, nothing else. Sexuality can be associated with many cultural aspects just as gender can (bars, television shows, dance clubs, types of music, etc.), and the binary carries over to and categorizes these associated things as well. I have never heard of a “bisexual bar.” I have never overheard anyone say “That guy dresses really pansexual.”

Another great example is political affiliations, the popular American ones being liberal/conservative and Republican/Democrat. Political careers are built and destroyed by these, and pundits scream themselves hoarse about how the other side of the dualism is wrong. Despite the die-hard dedication here, these binary groupings are just as tricky as gender or sexuality dualism. Their definition is culturally embedded to the point of being ambiguous. I know there are specific definitions of what liberal, conservative, Democrat and Republican mean, but how many people really subscribe to those definitions? Do you tell someone that you are liberal or conservative and a Republican or a Democrat while thinking about how you feel about specific social issues and economic policies? Or do you just think of yourself in relation to the current mainstream definition of these terms?

Sometimes the easiest way to define our political position is to orient ourselves in the group opposite the people with whom we most disagree. Political dualism shows how binary categories are often defined by what they are not.

I may not be able to tell you what liberals stand for, but I can certainly tell you that they disagree with conservatives.

I have some guesses as to where these two-sided distinctions come from and why they are so prevalent. I even think they can be useful at times. Binary distinctions can simplify incredibly complicated issues. They can speed up communication between dissenting groups by streamlining the conversation and bringing focus to the most salient parts of a discussion. Its hard to make progress on an issue when there are multiple sides all clamoring for something unique and specific, and dualism allows similar groups of people to consolidate and present a united front.

They can also be helpful to minority groups trying to define themselves and create solidarity in order to fend off oppression.

Despite all of this, I see binary categories as a powerful tool that can be destructive when not kept in check. I can see value in their use in certain situations, but I wish we didn’t need them. Anything that can simplify can oversimplify.

Oversimplification can lead to stereotypes, narrow-mindedness, flat and unproductive discussions and even hatred of others. When you align yourself with a group only because it is not the group you disagree with, you give up some of your autonomy, along with some of the valuable nuances you could have brought to the table. Dualism can marginalize minority groups, just as it can strengthen them.

I read an interesting article awhile back by the amazing and outrageously controversial Greta Christina, in which she argued that bisexual women are sometimes marginalized by lesbians because the mere existence of bisexuals blurs the lines between straight and gay. It is much easier to fight for equal rights and cultural acceptance of gay people when those lines are clear, and the gay minority can define itself as whatever is not straight. What good is a system of categorization that marginalizes (what I would call) minority-minority groups in favor of majority-minority groups?

Despite how I feel about them, I don’t think we will ever really be rid of them. I obviously perpetuate them myself. Ignoring that I’m not sure I can even define what all liberals have in common, I call myself a liberal, going so far as to make reference to it in the title of this column. With no regard to the fact that much more than genitalia plays a role in who I choose to date, I identify as heterosexual. Even though, like everyone else, I express a complicated and nuanced mix of “masculine” and “feminine” traits, I am considered female, both by myself and those around me.

So even though we’re always going to talk and think in black and white sometimes, we can’t let these labels control the direction of an argument, or even worse, become the topic of the argument themselves. Don’t let binary distinctions distract you from the real issues. Don’t forget to occasionally ask yourself, “Could I be thinking in color right now?”