I recently had the good fortune to attend a college basketball game. Don’t worry—I won’t bore you with a play-by-play, but I do want to share the cascade of thoughts triggered by one of the home team pep band’s chants.
When an opposing player whiffed a pass, missed a layup, had the ball go through their fingers, or otherwise fell short with what seemed in the stands to be an easy play, the band would derisively chant “fundamentals!” for a moment, until their own team did something cheer-worthy or the opponents dished up new humiliation fodder.
I’m not endorsing the public shaming of people trying to perform under high-stress situations, but the situation got me thinking about another fundamental, even more important than catching a pass, that many of us botch just about every day: the fundamental attribution error.
I wasn’t aware of the fundamental attribution error until I started ombuds work, but once my eyes were opened, I saw it everywhere. At work. At home. In class. I can honestly say that a day hasn’t gone by where I see someone—including, too often, myself—falling prey to the fundamental attribution error.
Skip this bit if you don’t have nostalgia for early 1990s WWF. One of the fun parts of that era was that so many wrestlers had day jobs: there were wrestling plumbers, hockey players, garbage men, hog farmers, and even undertakers. I’m thinking that if a wrestler’s day job was being an ombuds, calling their finisher the fundamental attribution error would be pretty neat.
Regardless, the fundamental attribution error is so-named because it is, well, fundamental. It colors all of our perceptions of others and shades how we interact with them. In a nutshell, the fundamental attribution is this:
We ascribe the missteps of others to interior deficiencies (character), while we brush off our own missteps as due to external circumstances (happenstance, things beyond our control).
Or as I like to put it to my workshop groups: if one of you shows up late, the fundamental attribution error makes me automatically assume that you are lazy, too stupid to find the room, or just don’t care. But if I am late, it’s because traffic was really bad today—all the construction on the airport connector and Maryland Parkway, you know, who could have anticipated it? Or my kids needed something. Or someone asked my help and I couldn’t say no. Because while other people might be less than stellar, this is me we’re talking about, the main character. If things go off the rails it can’t be because there’s something wrong with me. Can it?
It goes without saying that any typos or errata in this piece are solely the process of my own busy schedule and bounding thoughts, and not at all because I am a lazy or neglectful writer. That’s how the fundamental attribution error works in real time. Are you with me?
I invite you to be as honest with yourself as I have with you. Think of a recent conflict, annoyance, misunderstanding, or frustration. Being candid only with yourself, think about whether you framed the scene with the fundamental attribution error. I have no idea what you are thinking of, but odds are, you did.
Recognizing the fundamental attribution error gives us an important key to getting along better with other people. Being intentional about how we frame the perceived errors or shortcomings of others can open up whole new worlds of understanding, which can only help to improve how we interact with each other. Think about the cycle: someone does something that annoys us, we blame it on an inherent shortcoming and are condescending, so naturally they think less of us (because to them, we can’t be treating them poorly because of something they did, but rather due to our own internal defect) and now treat us worse. And so on. Congratulations! With the help of the fundamental attribution error, you’ve made a new blood enemy.
An alternative way to approach the same scenario would be to pause and reflect: if I was late/spoke too much/couldn’t find something quickly, what might the reason be? How would I be feeling? And how might I want others to respond? Placing ourselves in their shoes, and simply entertaining the possibility that external issues, rather than internal flaws, might explain their behavior, can go a long way getting along better with other people.
I am not saying that taming the fundamental attribution error will be easy. I’ve known about it for years, and I still find myself getting caught by it. But we don’t have to be driven by instinct. We can consciously choose to offer others the same grace we demand from them. We might not be able to help that our initial reaction is rooted in the fundamental attribution error, but we can break free of it.
By the way, if you need some irony in your diet, here’s a nugget that might have 30 percent of the USDA recommended daily dose: the pep band chanting “Fundamentals!” at a player who botched an easy play is itself an example of the fundamental attribution error, since it implies that rather than the ball taking an odd bounce, the player failed due to an innate ignorance of the fundamentals of the game—certainly attributing their misfortune to internal deficits. When our team messes up, of course, we all know that it’s because they had a tough travel schedule, or the refs are against us, or they’re under a lot of academic pressure, or they’re dealing with a lot of injuries. Fundamental attribution error strikes again!
Far be it from me to suck the joy out of publicly mocking student-athletes, but I think that in our off-court lives, we’d be a little better off if we didn’t jump to those same conclusions and backed off the snark when others literally or metaphorically drop the ball. Instead, what if we imagined that we had a pep band watching us, waiting for us to snidely remark that a co-worker is late—again—and it’s just so like them, so that they can chant “fundamentals!” jeeringly at us. After a while, we might get the lesson.
I may have taken the thought cascade a bit too far, but if that’s what it takes to get into people’s heads and maybe help them reduce their unforced fundamental attribution errors, it’s all in a day’s work.
So until next time, expect the unexpected, stay informed, and I’ll stay informal.
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