Why don’t you meet me in the middle? I’m losing my mind just a little.
A song featuring those lyrics rocketed up the charts a few years back.
The tune is catchy. So catchy, in fact, that the words within it can easily get lost.
But anyone who does pay attention to those lyrics gets a clear call to action. A call to find common ground and restore peace.
That’s what the middle has become about. Compromise and sacrifice in the interest of the common good. Sensible solutions to our most divisive problems.
It sounds too good to be true. And indeed, it is.
The one thing we seem to agree on these days is to avoid the middle at all costs. To make the cookie into a donut.
That’s a problem. A bigger problem than we might even realize.
The bell curve.
It’s an iconic sight. One that many of us have seen in math classes or business meetings.
The bell curve resembles a mountain. It’s a line that starts flat and then quickly rises before falling back to earth.
This symmetrical graph is the gold standard of statistical modeling. It shows the normal distribution of data. An arrangement with the highest amount of records in the middle.
This is not a hack to make mathematicians’ lives easier. The normal distribution is a real phenomenon, backed by science and human nature.
The middle is built to carry the weight. It’s the sturdiest portion of any unit. It provides balance and a semblance of security.
The edges, by contrast, are the most exposed to the risks of the surrounding world. And clustering at those edges can cause an imbalance of critical mass. It could send the whole unit flying into danger.
With this knowledge in hand, we’ve long complied with the rules of statistics. We’ve traditionally clustered in the middle.
Our political views would trend moderate. Our religious zeal would remain understated. Our fashion would be anything but excessive.
We wouldn’t have it all this way. But we would have enough to get by with a degree of comfort.
Recently, that has changed. Emerging technologies have allowed fringe viewpoints to proliferate. New megaphones have allowed fringe thinkers to influence without reproach. And a decay in decorum has lessened the impact moderation.
The incentives for staying in the middle have gone away. And we’ve abandoned that space accordingly.
But I don’t think the hallmarks of polarization are totally to blame for this development.
There’s a bigger culprit in the mix.
Fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on.
That was the title of a Bruce Springsteen song from the early 1990s.
In less than a decade, cable TV had gone from a novelty to a joke. And now, The Boss was nailing the punch line.
The ridicule was warranted. These were the earliest days of modern entertainment. And the experience was clunky at best.
Yet, the cause of this shift is as real now as it was then. And it can be summed up in one word.
Boredom.
America has long had a problem with the center of its bell curve. That peak of the graph is commonly known as the middle class. Its members tend to have a comfortable life, steering clear of trouble and strife.
Still, it’s a boring existence in the middle. And that boredom carries a long shadow.
Our society, you see, has long been built on stories. On heroes and villains. On adversity and triumph. On rags and riches.
These stories enthrall us. So much so that we seek to emulate them.
But it’s hard to do that in the middle.
It’s not that the center-cut life lacks the themes of a good narrative. It’s just that those themes are watered-down.
Adversity is not existential. Power is not boundless. And attempts to trumpet these themes come off as trite.
And so, those in the middle must make a choice. Carry on with their monotonous lives. Or hurl themselves toward the edges.
All too often, they choose the latter.
This is the thinking that spurred cable television. This is the thinking that subsequently caused the Internet to proliferate. This is the thinking that ultimately propelled social media into orbit.
It’s what’s led extremes to become mainstream.
Boredom is the enemy. And the middle is untenable.
My roots lie in the middle.
I had a middle-class upbringing, marked by comfort but not excess. My family was moderate in every sense of the word.
There wasn’t much to write home about. Home itself was seemingly enough.
The middle offered plenty of opportunities, and I availed myself of them. But once I graduated college, my journey took a sharp turn.
Like many, I’d been captivated by the American narrative. Of self-sufficiency, of initiative, of perseverance. And I thrust myself toward the edges on a Quixotic quest to attain it.
This quest brought me to Texas, and to a career that barely paid above minimum wage. Adjusting to my new reality was jarring, but I eventually found my way.
Not long after this I went back to the drawing board. I moved to a new city and pursued a new career.
Starting over would prove to be right move. But it put me at the bottom of a new totem pole, forcing me to climb the ladder.
I initially took on that task with aplomb. But eventually, that changed.
I came to realize that I don’t need to be top dog. I came to recognize that the reward is offset by the grind it takes to get to the top.
The middle is fine enough. Idyllic really. There’s no need to yearn for anything more.
And so, I’ve been living that mantra ever since.
I think we all can find value in my journey, and my subsequent epiphany. The grass is not always greener on the other side. Sometimes the middle turns out to be what we needed all along.
Might such realizations cure our polarized vitriol? Might they stabilize our society?
I’m not sure. But I do know that a shift inward would provide a start.
Why don’t you just meet me in the middle? There’s much to be achieved there.