I was deep in one of those circular arguments where nobody moves and nothing changes. We were debating a product decision, and the conversation had devolved into two opposing camps, each convinced their approach was right. I said, "What if we're both right?"
The room went quiet. Not because I'd said something profound, but because breaking the binary framing feels like cheating. It shouldn't be possible for contradictory positions to both contain truth.
But, one of my mantras for years has been the Niels Bohr's observation: "The opposite of a fact is falsehood, but the opposite of one profound truth may very well be another profound truth." The moment I first heard that quote changed how I approach complex problems, and, eventually, life.
The Pattern of False Dichotomies
I've always been drawn to systems, patterns, and frameworks (probably related to the ADHD/autism I only figured out as I hit my mid-40s). Over time, I've developed a particular sensitivity to a specific pattern: our most stubborn problems often come from framing situations as binary choices when they're actually tensions to be navigated.
I see this everywhere now:
We debate whether to prioritize understanding or action, when excellence requires both deep comprehension and forward movement
We argue over individual autonomy versus group cohesion, when thriving systems need both personal agency and collective harmony
We choose between structure and flexibility, when adaptable systems require both clear boundaries and room to evolve
What initially appear as contradictions are actually polarities—interdependent pairs where both sides contain essential truth.
When Binary Thinking Fails
On consulting gigs, I’m in conversations a lot with teams struggling with their development process. Often, half the team insists on detailed planning and documentation before writing code. The other half pushes for rapid prototyping and iteration.
Rather than picking a side, I ask: "What happens when you over-commit to either approach?"
This reframing reveals that excessive planning created analysis paralysis and outdated solutions, while unconstrained iteration produced fragmented code and technical debt. Neither extreme serves them well, but simply finding a compromise isn’t the answer either. It’s not actually a “meet in the middle” thing, which often just gets the worst of both worlds
The solution emerges from tension management: use rapid prototyping for uncertain features while applying structured planning for core system components. Different contexts require different positions along the spectrum—not a permanent middle ground, but a dynamic navigation between poles.
Tension Management as Foundation
This approach—what I've come to call "The Wisdom of Both"—places tension management at the foundation of effective thinking. It's not about splitting the difference or finding basic compromise; it's about developing the metacognitive skill to ask:
Which side of this tension does the current context require?
What unintended consequences might emerge from overcorrecting?
How can I maintain awareness of both truths while acting decisively?
This doesn't make decision-making easier. In fact, it often requires more cognitive effort than binary thinking. It means holding contradictions in mind and resisting the validation that comes from tribal certainty.
It aligns with another of my core principles: Truth Over Comfort. Seeking truth means acknowledging that sometimes binary approaches serve us better than complex ones, sometimes immediate action trumps deep understanding, and sometimes individual autonomy must yield to collective harmony.
There's no universal rule—only context-specific wisdom.
From Personal Framework to Book
What started as a personal thinking tool has evolved into something more structured. I'm working on expanding these ideas into a book exploring how this approach applies across domains—from personal development to leadership, from creativity to relationships.
The working title is "The Wisdom of Both: Navigating Life's False Dichotomies," and it examines core tensions like Individual/Collective, Action/Reflection, and Certainty/Curiosity, followed by practical applications in modern contexts.
Many great thinkers express similar insights:
F. Scott Fitzgerald noted that "the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."
Zen traditions use koans specifically to push beyond dualistic thinking.
Ancient wisdom from the Tao to the Middle Way points toward similar understanding.
The pattern persists across time and cultures: profound wisdom emerges not from choosing between apparent opposites, but from navigating their productive tension.
Beyond Either/Or in Your Own Life
Pattern recognition combined with divergent thinking creates a natural aptitude for seeing beyond false dichotomies. This approach has become a foundational thinking tool that has served me well across many contexts.
Where might you be caught in either/or thinking?
Consider a challenge you're facing—perhaps a disagreement with a colleague, a creative block, or a difficult decision. Ask yourself:
Am I treating this as a binary choice when it might be a polarity to manage?
What truth exists in the position I'm resistant to?
How might I navigate between these truths rather than choosing just one?
I'd be particularly interested in hearing about tensions you find most challenging to navigate. What apparent contradictions do you struggle to reconcile in your work or life? Your insights might become part of this evolving exploration of navigating complexity through the wisdom of both.
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