BLOG

Written by Nicole Renggli, Owner of younique hr consulting | Nicole Renggli | LinkedIn

 

Judging Is Human. Condemning Is a Choice.
 

I was on a train to Locarno when I noticed the man sitting opposite me. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, wearing an expensive suit, with his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was loud, confident, almost abrupt. "Then just fix it." I could feel my first thoughts taking shape. What an arrogant man.
 

Less than ten seconds later, the train stopped. An elderly woman stepped on board. The man immediately stood up, smiled warmly, and offered her his seat. Moments later, his phone rang again. This time, his voice was soft. "Hi, Mom... Yes, I'll come by later." I smiled. How quickly we write stories about people and how rarely we're willing to rewrite them. The truth is, we all judge. Not because we're bad people. But because we're human.
 

The human brain is a remarkable organ. Every second, it is bombarded with an overwhelming amount of information. If we consciously processed every single detail, we would quickly become overloaded. So our brain simplifies. It organizes information, compares it with what it already knows, looks for familiar patterns, and draws conclusions. This ability has helped humans survive for thousands of years.
 

Our ancestors couldn't afford to spend too much time analyzing every situation. Was the rustling in the bushes caused by the wind or by a predator? Better to run once too often than once too late. Survival depended on making fast judgments. Our brains still work in exactly the same way today. The only difference is that we're no longer assessing wild animals or hidden dangers, we're assessing people.
 

Within seconds, we decide whether someone seems likeable, trustworthy, competent, or someone we'd enjoy being around. These first impressions are neither right nor wrong. They're simply human. The real difference lies elsewhere.
 

Between judging and condemning.
 

Judging means forming an initial impression based on the information available to us. It remains open to change as new information emerges. Condemning, however, closes that door. A suspicion becomes a fact. An observation becomes a personality trait. One behaviour becomes the definition of an entire person. "She's unreliable." "He's selfish." "She's impossible to work with." Yet, in reality, we usually know remarkably little. We see a moment not the story behind it. We witness a reaction not the experiences that shaped it. We hear a sentence not the thoughts that gave rise to it. And yet we often feel surprisingly certain that our judgment is correct. Perhaps because uncertainty is uncomfortable. Perhaps because it's easier to place people into neat little boxes than to live with ambiguity. Or perhaps because we mistake our own perspective for objective reality.
 

But it isn't. It is simply our reality. Shaped by our upbringing. Our experiences. Our relationships. Our successes. Our disappointments. And the values we grew up with. Those values profoundly influence how we perceive other people. Someone who was raised believing that achievement deserves recognition will value hard work differently from someone who believes that caring for others should come first. Someone who learned to address conflict directly may interpret silence as indifference. Someone who grew up valuing harmony above all else may experience that very same directness as an attack. Neither perspective is necessarily wrong. They're simply looking at the same world through different windows. And that's precisely why people so often end up in conflict. Not because they have bad intentions. But because they assume their own perspective is the obvious one.
 

In my work as a mediator, I see this every day. People sit across from each other convinced they already understand the conflict. "She doesn't respect me." "He never takes responsibility." "She's doing it on purpose." Every one of these statements makes perfect sense. From that person's perspective. And that is exactly where mediation begins. Not with solutions. Not with compromises. But with listening. With truly active listening. One of the most powerful techniques in mediation is paraphrasing. I don't simply repeat what someone has said. I try to reflect back what I've heard in a way that helps the other person genuinely feel understood. And that's often when something remarkable happens. People begin to relax. Not because the problem has suddenly disappeared. But because, perhaps for the first time, they feel truly seen. Only then do I invite both sides to try something different: to step into the other person's perspective. Not to abandon their own. Not to admit the other person was right. But to understand why the situation looks the way it does from where the other person is standing. That is often the turning point. The "disrespectful colleague" becomes someone who has felt ignored for months. The "domineering manager" becomes a person carrying enormous pressure. The "unmotivated employee" becomes someone who has quietly been struggling to meet expectations. The facts haven't changed. But their meaning has. That is the true power of mediation. Not determining who is right. But making visible that two people can experience the exact same situation in completely different ways and both sincerely believe their perception reflects reality. Understanding someone does not mean agreeing with them. I don't have to approve of their behaviour. I don't have to abandon my boundaries. I don't have to betray my values. But I can choose to understand how they came to see the world the way they do. That doesn't always change the other person. But it almost always changes me. Perhaps, then, what we need isn't fewer judgments. Perhaps we need more humility about our own. More curiosity. More questions. Fewer quick answers. Because behind every person is a story we don't know. And perhaps that unseen story is exactly why they behave the way they do today. 
 

When I think back to the man on the train, I realize something. I never really knew him.I knew only ten seconds of his life. I invented the rest. Perhaps a more respectful way of living together begins the moment we recognize that the first story we tell ourselves about another person is rarely their whole story. To me, that is the essence of mediation. And perhaps it is also the essence of meaningful collaboration. Not proving that we are right. But being willing to rewrite the story we tell ourselves about another human being.