The One-of-a-kind Weekly Update

There are two types of people in this world: people who think tomatoes are vegetables and smug pedants* who make terrible jam.

This week we’ve been thinking a lot about categories. How we make them, what we put in them and how that changes our view of the world.

The great tomato debate (or great tomahto debate, if you prefer), is about categorization based on goals vs. categorization based on principles. Take this adorable fish for example.

 
fish.png
 

Ask an angler what kind of fish it is and they would probably categorize it based on the type of bait that can be used to catch it, whether it fetches a good price at sale or what time of day it is most likely to bite – all characteristics based on the angler’s goals for the fish.

A biologist, on the other hand (fin?), would rather classify the fish based on phylogeny and genetics – characteristics that define the fish in principle rather than in use.

The angler and the biologist are both correct. They’re using different knowledge systems to suit their needs. Learning how to recognize how people categorize their world is a key part of growing up and essential in communicating effectively with them.

Categorization by principle or by goals pops up frequently in our work. Travellers might categorize some experiences based on principle (e.g., mountain vs. city) and others based on their goals (accomplishment vs. discovery).

Even when we know correct categorization based on principle, we’re sometimes best off ignoring it and categorizing by goals instead. Strict adherence to principled categorization can be very distressing for Strawberry.

 
berry.png
 

Incidentally, categorical is our favourite kind of denial**. It just has so much flair.

“Do you deny it?”

“Of course I do!”

Booooooring

“Do you deny it?”

“Categorically!”

Drama.

One of the consequences of forming categories is that everything within the category starts to seem more homogenous and members of the category suddenly seem more different from non-members. This phenomenon doesn’t have serious consequences when applied to berries, but is the source of serious social harm when applied to people, especially people who aren’t our kind of person.

When we see people as part of an out-group, they seem less like human beings and more like a coordinated, malicious monolith. We classify people in all sorts of ways, with out-groups created by race, gender identity, religion, and political affiliation being the most obviously harmful. This problem is especially difficult, because refusing to categorize people can itself be harmful. If we refuse to acknowledge that people belong to categories, we also ignore systematic differences between people and can’t work to address those differences.

In marketing contexts, naming a group is often dangerous. In a segmentation, a group of people will be very appropriately categorized in all their complexity and nuance. Then the category will be given a name and the name alone will come to define the category. The segment will be reduced to one or two characteristics associated with the name. “Crafters” as a segment could be used to describe anyone who pursues a craft, like wood working, beer making, glass blowing, quilting and metal working. But for many people the name alone suggests arts and crafts whose supplies you buy at Michaels. This leads to a dramatic misrepresentation of the segment and poor marketing decisions. Naming is very important.

The Stormy Lake team suggested some ways to classify people. You can decide for yourself which kind of person each team member considers the in-group and which the out-group and if they’re based on goals or principles.

There are two types of people in this world...

  • givers and takers

  • those living from a place of fear and those living from a place of love

  • participants and bystanders

  • dreamers and rationalists

  • those who love tacos and liars

Stay safe, deny with flair, be a kind kind of person.

* Our WOWU this week is pedant, someone who cares too much about being technically correct. See Neil deGrasse Tyson, or, less successfully, Neil deGrasse Tyson.

** Not to be confused with an allegorical denial, in which a scorpion denies any intention to sting the frog carrying him across a river.