Bias

Bias is something we often notice in others but rarely in ourselves. It hides in conversations, decisions, and even in the way we see the world. Sometimes it shows up as stubbornness, sometimes as confidence, and often as something subtler, like the way we lean toward certain people or ideas without realizing why.

I used to think bias was only about prejudice. Over time, I realized it is also about acceptance. For me, being open and not quick to judge often drew comments from friends. They said I was “too accepting,” that I didn’t let ethics or personal opinions get in the way as much as they did. And yet, when it really mattered, I could never set my ethics aside. That balance between openness and values was where my own bias lived.

Bias is not always black and white. It is a rainbow, framed and formed by our upbringing, our environment, and even our traumas. It shifts, bends, and quietly guides how we see the world.

When two people build something together, a project, a relationship, or even a shared dream, their biases overlap. They clash, mix, and reshape each other. Sometimes one voice dominates, sometimes they balance. And when we step back into larger systems, data-driven work, A/B testing, or decision-making at scale, bias becomes something else entirely. Numbers may give us graphs and charts, but even then, the design of the test and the way we read the results carry their own bias. Data does not erase bias, it only makes it look more objective.

Here is where it gets tricky. Is bias also what we sometimes call our gut or our intuition? If so, do we trust it or resist it? Both data and gut can lead us astray, which makes bias confusing to navigate.

Take marriage, for instance. Two people come together, each carrying systems of bias shaped by family, culture, and history. Their union is not just about love, it is also about learning to live with these overlapping biases. With children, the cycle continues. Their biases do not always mirror their parents. Often, they clash.

This becomes especially visible in migrant families. Parents may move to another country for better opportunities, but their children grow up in schools surrounded by a new environment. That environment plants new biases, sometimes very different from those of the parents. The result is friction.

I have also felt bias firsthand in how people saw me. Being loud and jolly, I was often labeled as the “outgoing one.” At school, this came with assumptions. People thought I was into drugs, cigars, and all kinds of trouble. But that was never me. Those things scared me more than they tempted me. Still, whenever an issue came up, teachers often turned to me. I was biased as “the eccentric one,” even though I lived by my ethics. And yes, sometimes that made me look pretentious, as if I was trying too hard to be open.

But that is the nature of bias. It does not always match reality. It colors people before you know them. It shapes how we treat others, how we see ourselves, and how the world sees us.

To live with bias is to live with color. The point is not to erase it, but to recognize when it is guiding us and then choose whether or not to follow.