The Thinking Sapling

One thing we’re all very familiar with is the expectations of others, or at the very least, we like to think we are. Our responses to it may differ; we could conform or rebel against them. For instance, when I dress to go out, I would at least be conscious of the expectation that I do, at the very least, dress.

Yet, a lot of the time, the person we think expects something of us doesn’t communicate it directly. When we first meet someone, it is expected that we at least greet them properly with a handshake, a bow, or a multitude of other things, depending on where you’re from.

But neither party says, “You must greet me.” So where do these expectations come from?

The first answer that comes to mind is society. It’s a societal norm that we present ourselves properly and greet others in a certain way. We learn these expectations throughout our lives from parents, teachers, and experience. We say, “I dress when I go out because society expects me to.”

Over time, we slowly construct this entity from all the expectations constantly communicated to us. It becomes a voice in the back of our minds, reminding us of things we don’t remember learning. There’s a part of me that says, “I dress when I go outside because that’s what you do.” Though frankly, in a much more condescending tone.

This personally reminds me of Heidegger’s conception of das Man, or the “they.” When living with others, we often find ourselves in a mode of being where we’re not choosing our actions, but acting based on what “they” care about. We fall into a world where there exists a public norm, and “their” expectations blur into our expectations.

There’s also the internal fear of not meeting these expectations or of losing face. We might greet a stranger warmly not because we want to, but because we’re afraid of being seen as cold or rude. The other person never says this aloud, but we’ve developed — forgive the wordplay — an expectation of their expectations.

More personal examples include the fear of appearing vulnerable. People may not have told us that they see certain actions as weak or unworthy, but “they” might have. Even when we’re in a space that we know to be safe, we hesitate to open up.

This could lead us to being more withdrawn than we realised. We keep things to ourselves, despite the fact we ache to share them. The internal fragility never seeing the light of day.

Honestly, I’m not sure how to end this blog, because I’m not entirely settled on this thought experiment. I just felt it might be interesting to explore. But what’s undeniable is the hold these expectations have on us. Maybe it’s worth poking around a little more, and asking: not just where they come from, but why we let them stay.