Perspective Shifting – the forgotten superpower

I was in a hurry to run an errand last week, and the car in front of me was crawling along at least ten miles below the speed limit, in a no pass zone. My frustration built with every second. Don't they realize some of us have places to be? Then I caught myself.

What if they're lost? What if they're a new driver in a strange car? What if there's a child in the backseat they keep checking on? What if they're driving someone to a medical appointment and afraid of braking too quickly.

I realized something: I didn't have a vision problem. I had a perspective problem.

We don't need better eyes. We need better lenses.

When we look at the world—at traffic, at our teams, at our families—we naturally see everything through our own lens. It's shaped by our experiences, our values, our current pressures, and our personal wiring. There's nothing wrong with having a lens. The problem comes when we forget that everyone else has one too.

And here's what happens when we forget: we unconsciously shift into superiority thinking.

It's rarely malicious. We don't wake up deciding to feel superior to others. But when our lens is the only lens we can see through, our way quietly becomes "the right way." Their way becomes "the wrong way." And suddenly, we're judging instead of understanding, or just being open to other perspectives - ways of being in the world.

The superiority trap shows up everywhere

In traffic: That driver isn't just slower than me—they're incompetent. (Unless I'm the one driving cautiously, in which case I'm being responsible.)

Under schedule pressure: When I'm running late, there are legitimate reasons. When you're running late, you don't respect my time.

In expertise: I expect others to know what I know, fo

In travel preferences: My way of experiencing a new city is the best way. Your way is either too touristy or too rigid or too spontaneous.

We could list a hundred more. Parenting styles. Work habits. Communication preferences. Money management. The pattern is always the same: my lens feels like objective reality, and your lens looks like a distortion.

The cost of staying stuck in our lens

When we only see through our own perspective, we pay a price:

• We stop learning. Why would I be curious about your approach if mine is obviously better?

• We damage relationships. People can feel our judgment, even when we don't speak it aloud.

• We make worse decisions. We're working with incomplete information, but we don't know what we're missing.

• We create unnecessary conflict. Most disagreements aren't actually about right vs. wrong—they're about different lenses colliding.

The irony? The more expertise or success we accumulate, the more vulnerable we become to this trap. Our lens has served us well, so we trust it completely. We forget it's just one lens.

The shift: from advocacy to curiosity

Here's the superpower we've forgotten: we can choose to shift our perspective.

Instead of advocating for our lens ("Here's why my way makes sense..."), we can get curious about theirs ("Help me understand how you're thinking about this...").

This isn't about abandoning your perspective. It's about recognizing that your lens, however valuable, has limitations. Their lens might reveal something yours can't.

The shift sounds simple, but it requires intentionality:

From judgment to wondering:

• Not: "Why would anyone do it that way?"

• But: "What am I missing about why this approach works for them?"

From assumption to inquiry:

• Not: "They should know better."

• But: "What different path brought them to this moment?"

From frustration to curiosity:

• Not: "They're wasting time."

• But: "What are they prioritizing that I'm not seeing?"

Better questions unlock better understanding

Perspective shifting lives and dies by the quality of our questions. Here are some that help:

• "What matters most to you in this situation?"

• "What constraints are you working within that I might not be aware of?"

• "How did you arrive at that approach?"

• "What am I not seeing from where I sit?"

• "What would need to be true for your way to be the best way?"

Notice what these questions do: they position you alongside someone rather than above them. They signal respect. They communicate that you're genuinely interested in understanding, not just waiting for your turn to explain why they're wrong.

This isn't about being right. It's about being wise.

Some people worry that perspective shifting means abandoning discernment or lowering standards. It doesn't.

You can hold strong convictions and stay curious about other viewpoints. You can have expertise and recognize the limits of what you know. You can maintain boundaries and seek to understand why someone sees things differently.

In fact, the wisest people I know do exactly this. They've learned something crucial: understanding someone's lens doesn't require agreeing with their conclusions. But it does unlock something powerful—the ability to connect, to learn, to lead, and to love more effectively.

Your challenge this week

Catch yourself in the act. Notice when you're judging someone—their choices, their pace, their priorities, their approach. Then pause and ask yourself: "What lens might they be looking through that I'm not seeing?"

And if you're feeling brave? Ask them a curious question instead of

making an assumption.

You might discover that what looked like a vision problem was actually just a lens problem all along.

And once you can see their lens, everything changes.

What lens are you stuck in right now?

Where could curiosity replace judgment in your life this week?