We see someone act against their own interest.
Choose what harms them.
Cling to what clearly isn’t true.
And we say:
They’re being irrational.
But pause—
what do we really mean by that?
Do we mean they are broken?
Do we mean they are unaware?
Do we mean they are beyond reason,
outside of explanation?
Or do we simply mean:
They are not thinking like we would think.
Beneath the Surface of the “Irrational”
People rarely act without reason.
But the reasons they act on
are often hidden—
even from themselves.
A person might avoid love,
not because they don’t want it,
but because they believe closeness means eventual pain.
Another might overspend,
not because they’re reckless,
but because they believe freedom lives in that fleeting moment of purchase.
Another might stay silent in the face of injustice,
not because they don’t care,
but because they believe speaking will cost them everything they’ve built.
From the outside, it looks irrational.
From the inside, it is deeply consistent—
with a belief,
a memory,
a fear.
Rationality Is Not Always Obvious
To be rational, in the broadest sense,
is to think in ways that align with one’s goals and values—
to make choices that make sense
given what we know,
what we want,
and what we feel safe enough to do.
But what if the goal is hidden?
What if the value is unspoken?
What if the knowledge is incomplete?
Then what looks irrational
is often simply unfinished understanding.
It’s not that people are acting without thought.
It’s that their thought is built on foundations
we cannot see.
We All Carry Logic the World Doesn’t Understand
You believe something others doubt.
You avoid something others chase.
You love something others find strange.
You are not irrational.
You are responding
to the shape of your own story.
And so is everyone else.
The question is not, Are people irrational?
The question is, Have we taken the time to understand the logic they live by?
Because once we see the story,
once we hear the belief that holds their behavior in place—
what looked irrational becomes
recognizable.
And sometimes, achingly familiar.
The Danger of Dismissing
To call someone irrational can be an easy escape.
It lets us avoid curiosity.
It lets us stop listening.
It lets us protect our version of sanity
at the expense of someone else’s complexity.
But good thinking—
the kind that serves both truth and tenderness—
requires more.
It requires that we ask:
- What might this person be protecting?
- What would have to be true for this behavior to make sense?
- What am I missing?
A Closing Reflection
Are people ever really irrational?
Perhaps.
But more often—
they are simply living through a different equation.
One where past pain has more weight than future reward.
One where fear is more vivid than logic.
One where love is pursued in ways we’ve forgotten how to recognize.
So the next time you’re tempted to label someone irrational—
pause.
And ask:
- What truth are they trying to hold onto?
- What wound are they trying not to touch?
- What story, if I knew it, would make this make sense?
Because to dismiss a person’s reasoning
is to close the door to their reality.
But to wonder—
to wonder—is to leave a light on.
And in the end, maybe the question is not whether people are irrational,
but whether we are willing to see that even in their strangeness,
there is sense.
There is structure.
There is a story worth listening to.