The Death of Dialogue: Why We Must Trust Ourselves Again

It’s an uncomfortable thing to admit, but I’ll go first. There were moments, in my everyday life working in the service industry, when an old bias tries to sneak in.  A table sits down, and before I even greet them, an intrusive thought flashes through — a stereotype, a judgment, a quiet voice telling me how this interaction is likely to go. But here’s the thing: I notice it, I name it, and then I choose something else. I set it aside and meet them with kindness and respect, regardless of what my first thought was.

We all have these moments. Bias is real, and it shows up uninvited. But what’s even more real — and more powerful — is our ability to catch it, regulate it, and rise above it. Lately though, I’ve noticed that society doesn’t seem to trust us with that power anymore. We’re told that bias is who we are at our core — like some kind of moral birthmark we can never laser off. And the message doesn’t stop there: because we’re supposedly too flawed to manage ourselves, we’re told to outsource our judgment entirely. Let the experts, the institutions, the ever-shifting rulebook decide what’s right or wrong for us.

The result? Conversations become a minefield. People walk on eggshells, not because they lack kindness, but because they’ve been convinced they can’t trust their own instincts. We second-guess every word, every gesture, terrified of stepping out of line. And when we stop trusting ourselves to engage with honesty and grace, real dialogue dies. What’s left is performance — people reciting approved scripts, hoping they don’t get it wrong, rather than showing up as thoughtful, evolving human beings.

This is where the difference between trendy and timeless comes in. Right now, it’s trendy to jump on the latest version of society’s political correctness. The rules shift, the language updates, and everyone scrambles to keep up, afraid to be caught wearing last season’s virtue. But leading from the heart? Trusting your own moral compass?

That’s always in style. Integrity doesn’t need rebranding every few months. Class — the real kind — is timeless.

Trendy virtue is performative. It’s like fast fashion: flashy, ever-changing, and designed to keep you consuming more scripts, more rules, more approval. But timeless virtue is different. It’s built quietly, choice by choice, like a well-made garment that fits no matter the season. When you trust yourself to notice your worst reflex and choose better — not because someone’s watching, but because you want to — that’s self-regulation. That’s confidence. And that’s class.

We are more than capable of regulating ourselves. More than capable — it’s something most of us do every single day, often without applause or acknowledgment. I know I do. That first intrusive thought pops up — uninvited, unoriginal, and frankly, a little pathetic — and I choose not to let it drive the car. I course-correct, and I move forward with kindness and fairness. Not because I’m terrified of being labeled, but because I trust myself to do better than my worst reflex.

Reclaiming that trust isn’t just personal growth. It’s an act of empowerment — maybe even rebellion. Because when we stop looking outward for permission to feel good about ourselves, when we stop waiting for society to hand us a gold star for basic decency, we take back control. We start speaking with confidence instead of fear, engaging in conversations instead of tiptoeing around them, and growing in ways no rulebook can script. That’s real progress. And frankly, it’s a whole lot more beautiful than the strained, anxious performance we’ve been told is virtue.

"...As Mark Twain wisely put it, “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.” We don’t need to follow the crowd, or wear the latest label of virtue. In fact, following the crowd often means losing touch with who we truly are. We have the power to choose, to lead with authenticity.— for ourselves and for those around us. Trusting our moral compass means we can make decisions not out of fear, but out of a place of true confidence."

So let the trends come and go. Let the rules update and the scripts refresh. But I’ll be over here choosing the timeless option: self-trust, integrity, and the kind of quiet confidence that never goes out of style. Because real class? It’s not about following the latest script. It’s about trusting yourself to show up better, every single day.

And if we can’t do that — if we allow ourselves to be manipulated out of our confidence and convinced that we are powerless to self-regulate — what kind of world are we headed toward? A world where fear replaces dialogue, where performance replaces progress, and where no one trusts their own heart enough to choose kindness without a script. That’s a scary place indeed. And it’s a world I have no desire to see completed. And while it may seem like we’re living in a world of confusion and contradiction, I have faith in our ability to rise above. I believe that as long as we choose self-trust, integrity, and kindness, we’re on the right path. There is hope in that quiet confidence, in the small but powerful decisions we make every day to be better, to listen, and to grow. The future is built by those who trust themselves enough to lead with heart and conviction. I believe that, despite the noise, that future is bright.