Horn effect— the dark lord of prejudices

Drawn by the cultural diversity and vibrancy of Brooklyn, we decided to spend a day there during our last family trip to New York. It was a balmy morning. Coffee and bagels in the DUMBO neighbourhood enhanced our sensory experience.

After a blissful afternoon stroll through the transmitter park, while debating the meaning of Americanism and how Aussie flat white was so much better than Americano, we decided for an early dinner in Williamsburg. After our traditional spirited dinner venue choice arguments and mainly hunger—induced surrender, we landed in a charming little eatery at the town’s edge. It was a great meal and it looked like we were winning on each account. Tummies full and feet sore— we decided to head back to Manhattan. This is when ‘the great cab hunt of Brooklyn’ started to test our patience. With bubbling tempers, the young ones in the family were throwing some bright ideas to solve that mini crisis. Out of nowhere a car pulled up in front of us. “Manhattan?” asked the driver— a cheerful black man with a grin wide enough to end a war. Before I could decide on the offer, my family was already occupying the back seat, leaving me to hop in the front along with that over-friendly driver of the cab.

No taxi lights. No Uber logos. Just vibe. Suspiciously friendly vibe.

Out of nowhere, a deep sense of unease crept within me. My family was oblivious to my predicament, engrossed in their recounting of the day. They were just interested in getting back to the hotel for much-needed rest.

Would we get back to our hotel or somewhere else?

I shook the idea off and tried to engage the driver in light conversation, who responded with enthusiasm. Suddenly, he took a detour, towards a quite part of Brooklyn. Streets were engulfed in an eerie silence and seemed to whisper— ‘don’t trust strangers.’ My heart started racing. Many episodes of ‘NYPD blue’ and ‘law and order ‘flashed before me. He pulled up in front of a small, pale house. My heart stopped too. Were we going to be in the next episode titled— ‘The family that took a wrong ride?’

“This is me momma.” He pointed with a smile to a slightly frail old woman sitting in the front porch. We all waved. I waved like I was in a parade. He exchanged some sweet words with his mother and then turned the car back towards Manhattan.

I took a sigh of relief and hung my head in shame, “What was I thinking?” Turns out, he was just a good son— who probably still thinks I was constipated from how tense I looked. When we reached our hotel, I tipped him like he’d just saved our lives (because emotionally, he a sort of did).

Prejudices are rife, all around us— almost like a human condition of living. Sure, stereotyping might be our brain’s clumsy way of navigating the unknown— Ah, that stranger anxiety! But the Horn Effect? That’s prejudice on steroids. It’s the mother of all prejudices. It’s the boss level of bias. And yes, it creeps into the minds of even the well-intentioned, therapy-attending, empathy-preaching among us.

I discovered it in myself during early adulthood— that was a shock! Afterall, I wasn’t that enlightened soul, that I assumed I was. It was a sobering moment. I considered myself untainted by the mortal scourge of bias. I, who entrained philosophical ideas from around the world, a poet at heart— with a good understanding of being a human. No, I was just another fallible human— flashing judgement cards to others on some occasions.

Until then, I had considered myself free of stranger anxiety. I was unaware of any bias that I was harbouring. I wasn’t overtly rude, but micro-prejudices? Oh, yes. They led me to a few poor decisions and a few subsequent debacles. And the people on the receiving end? They might not have noticed. Or maybe, they just mentally firewalled me like outdated antivirus software. I’ve since developed a system of internal surveillance for those micro biases. And results? Not bad. If I can do it— anyone can do it.

Yes, I have also been at the receiving end of these micro biases. I vividly recall my very early days at work when someone with a rather sunny disposition repeatedly failed to notice my presence in the tearoom, while acknowledging everyone else. I was like the alien in the room— who was irrelevant and to be ignored, until we find a good use for it. Such subtle acts of disdain are often unintentional. This is the subtle form of prejudicial behaviour, very challenging to acknowledge and learn from.

From subtle unintended snubs, prejudices can leap to become the full-fledged horn effect— a cognitive bias where a single seemingly negative characteristic of someone can lead to exaggerated negative judgement. When under its spell, one keeps carrying the first negative impression of someone forever. In the words of the celebrated twentieth century novelist Joseph Heller, “First impressions die slowly, bad impressions take even longer.” Our past impressions of a person or a group, especially hurtful experiences can linger on forever, resurfacing on stressful occasions, compromising our ability to make right decisions.

You may have heard whole cultural groups being stereotyped— like Chinese are bad drivers, Americans are reckless and crazy, Irish love their drinks, Australians are politically incorrect, Buddhists are always meditating, Muslims are full of uncompromising religiosity. But almost all of such stereotypes would fall, under the spell of a reality check— as most people in these groups are exceptions to these stereotypes.

In this age of knowledge, there is a ray of hope that we are in position to control our behaviour by cognitive adaptation. We can step outside of our echo chambers and into a world of diverse, messy, and beautiful truths about us. Yes, some knowledge without compassion can be a curse. But when knowledge is universal and reflective, it can turn into a blessing. If we all become aware of our prejudices, perhaps we will be able to modify our behaviour and tame the horn effect

In our increasingly fragile world, we need deeper connections. Prejudices like Horn effect hold us back from fostering those much-needed bonds. If we take a moment to recognize the shadows of our own bias, maybe—just maybe, we’ll all learn to soften the edges of judgement, sidestep the Horn effect, and meet each other not as stereotypes, but as stories still being written.

Jeevak (AKA RaJeev Jyoti) is a KanYini volunteer author of this creative article

Jeevak

The Radiologist who Writes, Rights, and Unites.