The cost of neutrality
Two neighbours went to a village elder with a dispute. After hearing the first man, the elder said, “You are right”. The second man presented the opposite version and the elder again said, “You are right”. His irritated wife protested, “They cannot both be right!” The elder paused, looked at her and replied, “You are right too”. Everyone received approval, but nobody received justice. That is the attraction of neutrality: it keeps tempers under control, relationships intact and the mediator welcome in both houses. But when truth and falsehood are treated as equally respectable, neutrality becomes less a virtue than a comfortable escape.
Harvard psychologist Dan Gilbert argues that bad decisions begin with a flattering illusion: we believe our judgement is objective. In reality, the mind judges facts, risks and rewards through imperfect filters shaped by experience, memory and expectation. Neutrality, therefore, is difficult not because everyone is dishonest, but because everyone views the same issue through a different lens. We readily spot bias in others while mistaking our own assumptions for common sense. The most dangerous bias is believing we have none.
In Bangladesh, neutrality creates an additional problem: neutral people are often friendless. Our social formula is simple: either you are with me, or you are secretly working for the other side. Neutrality is appreciated only as long as it does not stop you scratching the right back. A columnist may write about CEOs, employees, industries, regulators and public policy. Many of these people are known to him, directly or indirectly. Everyone enjoys fearless writing when it is about somebody else. But once the article reaches their own office, industry or conduct, intellectual disagreement suddenly becomes personal betrayal. A good friend may even impose the ultimate digital punishment: unfriend, block and vanish. Apparently, freedom of expression is admirable until it is about us.
The political and administrative world follows the same logic with greater consequences. Bureaucrats are often described, promoted, transferred, sidelined or rewarded according to their alleged political affiliations. A competent officer without a visible camp may find himself more vulnerable than a less competent officer with powerful sponsors. Having no faction does not make him acceptable to all. It simply means no faction feels obliged to protect him. Research suggests this social cost is real. A 2017 study, Whoever Is Not With Me Is Against Me, found that people often reacted negatively when a close friend remained neutral during a conflict. Neutrality was sometimes judged almost as harshly as openly supporting the opposing side. People did not see neutrality as fairness. They saw it as a withdrawal of loyalty.
This explains why neutrality can be expensive. It may cost friendships, professional opportunities, promotions, invitations and access to influential circles. Yet automatically joining a camp carries another price: the gradual surrender of independent judgement. A person may gain protection but lose credibility. He may remain popular within his group while becoming irrelevant outside it. How, then, can a neutral person survive with dignity? The answer is not to become neutral about everything. One should remain neutral between personalities, but never between right and wrong. The standard should be declared in advance: evidence, law, fairness, transparency and the public interest. Criticise conduct without unnecessarily humiliating individuals. Apply the same principles to friends, opponents, powerful chairmen and powerless employees. Above all, accept that consistency will not make everyone happy. Principles are not designed for popularity contests.
The village elder pleased everyone because he stood for nothing. A society cannot afford that luxury. When institutions weaken, wrongdoing spreads and powerful groups demand loyalty, silence is not neutrality. It is cooperation without courage. A neutral person may lose a job, friends or opportunities by refusing to join a camp, but a nation loses its conscience when nobody is willing to stand outside one.
The writer is the founder of BuildCon Consultancies Ltd and BuildNation Ltd
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