Recently, I asked a close friend, “What are my blind spots?”
If you have friends who you can ask and receive an honest answer, consider yourself fortunate.
He told me, “Eric, you look at situations analytically, consider all options, and make conclusions without always knowing the facts. Typically, your conclusions are cynical, and the glass is half empty, and you think something will suck before it even begins.”
Ouch, that hurt (in a good way). But it hurt because he was right.
One of my favorite business authors is Andy Grove (former CEO of Intel), who wrote must-reads “High Output Management” and “Only the Paranoid Survive.”
I love the second one’s title. I will not say it's a pet phrase, but it’s next to two of mine: “Be cautiously optimistic” and “Trust but verify.”
Since receiving that feedback, I have been reflecting on my friend's words and questioning how indexing towards cynicism has served me and how it has hurt me. While mowing my lawn, I heard this quote from Amanda Knox on the Joe Rogan podcast: " Cynicism and self-righteousness are shields. They are ways of approaching the world with a shield.”
Cynicism as a shield - if you don’t care about it, you can’t be hurt by it.
After spending a few weeks processing this, I jotted this down in my journal: Dashed hopes + disappointment = emotional self-protection. Emotional self-protection manifests as cynicism. I can’t be hurt if I don’t care.
Why are people cynical, or even more so, why am I? I’ll save the trauma dumping for a therapist, but for you as a reader, consider these questions:
Have there been times when others let you down so deeply that it felt safer to lower your expectations of people altogether?
When you think about being hopeful or optimistic, do you notice a part of you that tightens or pulls back as if expecting disappointment? What might that part be trying to protect?
Do you remember a time in your life when you believed in people or institutions more fully, and can you sense how that belief has changed? What experiences shaped that in your life?
How is vulnerability received in your environment — whether at work, at home, or in your broader community? Is there a silent reward for cynicism and a cost for emotional openness?
In conclusion, my cynicism is rooted in my own pride. Growing up, I never felt smart, accomplished, or particularly remarkable. I had a hard time fitting in most social situations and was bullied. Even in a room full of people, I felt alone. Beginning in my teenage years, I overcompensated by discipline, personal growth, and achievement. I ultimately wanted to outsmart and beat my adversaries, not realizing I was my own worst enemy.
Fast-forward to today, where I can humbly say I am smart, accomplished, and remarkable, but I am also cynical, “That guy is an idiot,” or “That idea will never work,” rather than curiosity, “Why do you think he did that?” or “What was the process to get to that conclusion?”
The antidote to cynicism as a shield is curiosity as a table - an invitation to listen, learn, and grow. Jesus asked more questions than he gave proclamations, and I am learning to do the same. Thanks for reading.