The Closer We Get, The More We Hurt | The Hedgehog’s Dilemma
Once upon a time, a group of hedgehogs faced the cold winter. As they were feeling cold, they decided to move closer to each other and share bodily warmth. Unfortunately, as soon as they crawled together, they hurt each other with their sharp spines. And thus, the hedgehogs moved away from each other again, as the cold weather was more tolerable than being hurt by the spines.
So, the hedgehogs faced a dilemma: when they kept each other at a distance, they suffered cold. But when they got closer to each other, they experienced and caused hurt. The tale of the hedgehogs was coined by none other than pessimistic philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, serving as a metaphor for human intimacy, and was later adopted by psychiatrist Sigmund Freud. The story shows the tragic dilemma of human relationships: we seek closeness with others, but the closer we become, the more likely we seem to get hurt (and hurt others).
This video explores the hedgehog dilemma and possible ways to deal with this predicament. The beauty of superficial relationships is that the lack of emotional investment in one another (for the most part) exempts us from being hurt by this association. When shared moments and memories are few, when there’s no commitment, when any form of interdependence is absent, then not much is lost when the relationship ends.
Also, because of the lack of knowledge about one another and any significant involvement in each other’s lives, it’s difficult for emotional injury to occur. However, the downside of superficial relationships (or no relationships at all) is that we lack the warmth, intimacy, and other benefits of being close to someone. Without closeness to others, we’re standing in the cold, just like the hedgehogs from Schopenhauer’s tale. We feel lonely and disconnected.
So, quite tragically, by avoiding pain, we experience pain. Yet, many people choose to live with only superficial social connections, and some almost completely isolate themselves from society. An example of the latter group are the Japanese Hikikomori, known as modern-day hermits, who chose to live their lives in seclusion. The amount of Hikikomori in Japan exceeds one million: half of them are youth. They generally live with their parents, refuse to leave their houses, and spend their existence in a single room.
An article in The Conversation suggests that traumatic experiences of shame and defeat as a consequence of failures are triggers that cause people to hide from society. I quote: It’s possible that Japan’s cultural value system may make this population more vulnerable due to the pressure for collective uniformity and the fear of social shame. Hikikomori people avoid re-traumatisation by choosing to opt out of the “normal” pathway set out for them by society. End quote.
So, we could state that these people isolate themselves from society to avoid getting hurt. And that not so much their failures in themselves are the source of their suffering but how Japanese culture perceives these failures and how, in turn, those in isolation handle society’s sentiments. Although their seclusion might be a successful way of avoiding further trauma, it comes with another range of problems, as there’s a link between their lifestyle and depression, anxiety, and several mental disorders.
Also, their lifestyle does not allow them to enjoy the good of social interaction: real-life friendship, intimacy, a sense of belonging, and connection. During the COVID-19 crisis, we’ve also experienced the downsides of social isolation, during which many reported increased loneliness, anxiety, stress, and feelings of meaninglessness. Nevertheless, numerous people enjoyed social isolation; it liberated them from the irritations associated with dealing with others. It was a vacation from nasty coworkers, nosy family members, and high-maintenance friends.
We experienced how life felt without other hedgehog’s sharp spines piercing our skin for a while. But eventually, the coldness of social distancing became hard to bear.