I Don't Get It
Chapter 2

The Neighbour Who Would Bang on the Ceiling

Somebody upstairs is playing music at one in the morning. Not loud enough to be an emergency. Just loud enough that you're awake, and you're going to stay awake, and you're doing the arithmetic on how many hours you have left before the alarm goes.

Here's the part I don't get. That same person, if the music were coming down at them instead of up from them, would be on the stairs in about four minutes. Furious, entirely certain they were in the right. And they would be in the right. That's what makes it so strange. They already know the rule. They can recite it perfectly, they just can't hear it applying to themselves.

It isn't ignorance. Nobody has to be told that noise at one in the morning is a problem. Everyone has been on the receiving end of it at some point. The knowledge is already in there. It just doesn't seem to survive the trip from one direction to the other.

What I think happens is that when you're the one making the noise, you have all the context. You know it's a one-off, you know it's your birthday, you know you'll turn it down soon. You're inside your own reasons, and your reasons are always good. But the person lying awake downstairs doesn't get any of that. They just get the noise. They're not experiencing your intentions, they're experiencing your output. And we consistently judge ourselves on the first thing and everyone else on the second.

Which means the test is actually very simple. Would you accept this if it were coming at you? Not in principle, not on a good day — right now, tired, with work tomorrow.

The same shape shows up in places where nobody's just losing sleep. It's the two minutes saved, the trip not made, the small convenience bought with somebody else's risk — always small enough to justify from the inside, always someone else absorbing it.

And the thing is, none of this is a difficult moral position. It's not a philosophy. It's the first thing anyone teaches a child, and every one of us can apply it flawlessly the moment we're the injured party.

I don't get where it goes the rest of the time.

1 response
Anon

“They're not experiencing your intentions, they're experiencing your output.” Writing that on a wall somewhere.