My (Inattentional) Blindness

“Getting up on a motorcycle opened up my eyes in a way that was completely unexpected.”

Today, I took an all-day motorcycling course. It was the first time in my life I’ve ever rode one of those bikes. I only wish I could see the expressions on the faces of all my friends and family when they read that last sentence. Surfing and skydiving, sure, they were pretty amused. But me on a Harley? Enjoy.

The five hours of actual riding was a lot harder than I expected. Ironically, the going fast part is easy; it’s the maneuvering at slower speeds that was much trickier. Also, I have soreness in muscles in my thighs and ass that I didn’t even know existed.

But the truly eye-opening part of the experience happened after the road portion, during the three hours of classroom activity. They put us through a dozen scenarios, each with dozens more potential hazards that you never even think about while driving a four-wheel vehicle. And there was one conclusory slide on the overhead that was so instantly meaningful that I actually took a photo of it. The main part read as follows:

“The things we teach ourselves to look for and make a priority, we will perceive first. We must see traps and escape traps.”

After we’d been asked numerous times to identify hazards — armed only with a half-second glance at the different driving landscapes — that sentence on the slide made perfect sense. But it was the “Note” underneath it that really hit me between the eyes:

“If we fail to see what is plainly visible, we have what is called ‘inattentional blindness.’”

I’m a guy who’s in love with words, phrases and metaphors. Writers are like that. And some of them just jump out at you. The metaphor you usually see when it comes to motorcycling is something romantic. The “carefree” or “cool” or “rebellious” themes: Marlon Brando in The Wild One. Nicholson and Fonda in Easy Rider. The loner poet “Michael Fitzsimmons” in Peggy Sue Got Married… Choose your own example from this century; I’m 58 (we’ll get to that).

A replica of the Triumph Thunderbird motorcycle that Marlon Brando rode in the 1953 classic, The Wild One.

But to me, “inattentional blindness” is a far more meaningful concept than all the others — because it made me think. It made me take a broader view of the present tense stuff in my life — and what I was possibly missing. What are the signs that I don’t see, or choose not to see? Even subconsciously.

Human beings have an enormous capacity to rationalize. Anything. A romantic relationship. An old friendship. A career choice. A purchase. A vote. We so often choose to perceive a situation or set of facts in a way that makes it easier for us to negotiate — or ignore altogether.

I like to consider myself a considerate person. We all do. My uncle and I have an inside joke about how often we apologize to people before we even know if the word or act we’re remorseful for was actually an offense. It’s the “err on the side of caution” thing. And part of our joke is imagining folks who never feel contrite about anything. What a stress-free way to go through life!

But to walk through the world not worrying about or even take note of other people’s reactions and feelings is equivalent to contributing less to everyone’s else’s collective experience.

Of course, the trick of the whole thing is being conscious enough to really be observant of what’s going on around you. I’m not going to get (more) neurotic about it, but I do know that I can do a whole lot better. Having all of those potential road hazards being pointed out in visual detail by a motorcycle instructor was revelatory.

On my way home, I stopped at Walgreens to pick up a few things. When I got to the register, a cashier named Debbie told me that it was Seniors Tuesday and they had a discount deal going. The rest of the exchange went like this:

“Are you a senior?”

“Are you joking?? No!”

“So you don’t want the discount?”

“No way! I was just learning to ride a motorcycle all day! I’m 58!” (laughing)… “Okay, sure, gimme the discount.”

Debbie and I both cracked up out loud. I asked her what the real “senior” age was that would qualify any customer for the deal. I don’t even remember her answer. Maybe I don’t want to know just how close I really am.

Inattentional blindness.

MICHAEL GOLDEN is the cofounder of One Million Degrees, a national award-winning journalist and bestselling author. The Golden Mean is where he works to convert ‘hidden lessons’ into active wisdom.

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