: Highly sensitive person—is that a thing?
If you are into the sorts of tumblrs that I am into, you may have encountered recently this notion of the “highly sensitive person.” Here’s the site of a psychologist who has done a lot on the concept, but basically, according to science™, a large minority of people (20-30 percent) have this trait, which consists of being especially sensitive to things like noise and bright lights, generally getting annoyed easily by things that others tend to brush off, but also greater capacity for deep reflection, appreciating art, etc.
My girlfriend is convinced that she and I are both in this HSP group, and that that label explains a lot of the shit we struggle with in our lives. I can see it. I get tired very easily in intense social situations like parties with loud music, and if it’s just a little too hot or cold outside, my social battery runs out more quickly than others. I also tend to read a lot of meaning into passing remarks (assume that someone’s trolling generalization was actually a subtweet at me), and perseverate on even the most gentle and constructive of criticism, interpreting it as a referendum on my overall worth as a person, or diving down a rabbit hole of thoughts about how this will surely cause me to lose my job, my relationship, etc.
And capacity for deep reflection? I guess, lol? I like to write and I like to listen closely to music. I tend to prefer one-on-one conversations with friends where we can press deeply into matters of psychology and personal goals/struggles rather than superficial chit-chat about politically safe topics, but I think everyone is like that, or just doesn’t enjoy conversation at all.
But what I came here to say is this: I’m suspicious of HSP theory because it implies a model of psychology that privileges the HSP experience in a self-serving way. Actually, it reminds me of that Obama era book about “the power of introverts,” which set up a dichotomy between introverts (the thoughtful, reflective, considerate, and studious folks who shape and lead the knowledge economy), and extroverts (basically just hedonists/sluts without free will). I doubt that the hard binary was the author’s intention, but it’s the effect the book had on the discourse—a sort of “revenge of the introvert” moment in which companies started reconfiguring their interviews to capture the nerdy, toilsome types, while charisma and networking skills came to be regarded with suspicion.
When I read the HSP stuff, I catch a whiff of: The world is built for power tools but I am a jeweler’s screwdriver. All of my weaknesses are actually a strength if you think about it hard enough. Now, that may be perfectly true in some instances, but I don’t think it’s an appropriate model of the human experience. The effect of oversubscribing to HSP theory is to take the totality of the human race, draw a boundary around an ingroup, and explain how this ingroup is devalued and oppressed by the outgroup. It can’t be that simple, right? There is a casual elegance to the theory that being sensitive to disco balls also makes you more sensitive to other’s emotions, but does that actually bear out? One of my close friends is a high-degree empath and incredibly conversationalist, but also definitely probably not an HSP—she loves to party and explore sensory extremes.
It’s too convenient to interpret the traits that I like about myself (understands your childhood trauma) as though they are nonnegotiably wed to the traits I don’t like about myself (can never give you a present without thinking you hated it). It excuses me from having to work on the bad traits.