We are truly living in an era of "fact bombardment." In other words, an overwhelming amount of incidents and factual information is relentlessly dropped on us like bombs, with no break in between. Figures, statistics, quotations, videos, and data graphs pour out incessantly, as if to say, "How can you not believe this?" But let's pause and ask ourselves: does this barrage of facts really bring us closer to the truth?
I once took a bus in Edinburgh, United Kingdom. Although there were plenty of empty seats, a middle-aged woman accompanied by a large black dog chose to sit next to my friend. The dog squeezed itself under the seats, occupying the entire space beneath two seats. My friend had to ride all the way to our destination with her feet awkwardly suspended in the air. The woman never once apologized before getting off. My friend fumed, saying, "That kind of arrogance is racism," and we all nodded in agreement. Then, one of our companions cautiously pointed out, "That dog had a guide dog tag." In that instant, the facts we had all witnessed were overturned. It was the same scene, but its meaning was completely reversed. Stephen Covey, author of "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People," once recounted a similar experience. During a lecture, he noticed two people in the front row whispering continuously and, unable to tolerate it any longer, said, "If you want to chat, please do so outside." It turned out that one of them was a foreigner, and the other was interpreting the lecture for them.
What matters more than the scene itself is the context; there is a difference between fact and truth. The story of "Anhoe Sipjin" delivers a similar message. When Confucius and his disciples were wandering between the states of Jin and Chai and had gone hungry for several days, his disciple Zigong managed to obtain some rice with great difficulty. Anhoe was cooking the rice when Zigong, passing by the kitchen, saw him take a portion out of the pot and eat it. Zigong, thinking it wrong for Anhoe to eat first while everyone was starving, reported this to Confucius. How would Confucius handle this situation? After some thought, Confucius gathered his disciples and said, "I just saw my late father in a dream, so I must offer this rice as a sacrifice." At this, Anhoe hurriedly replied, "A bit of ash fell onto the rice a moment ago, so I removed that part and ate it." He meant that rice already eaten by the living could not be offered in a ritual. Confucius sighed, "I trusted my eyes, but they were wrong; I trusted my heart, but it too was shaken."
Today, we are confronted with countless facts: a single clip from a short video, a quote stripped of its context, an edited voice of the subject. We judge people and events based on that one line or one frame. In a world overflowing with data and numbers, context and story disappear. Those who see only facts manage phenomena, but leaders who read context can change the narrative structure. Facts show "what happened," but context asks "why it happened."
This is where the difference between eyesight and perspective emerges. Eyesight is a function of the eyes, but perspective is a choice of consciousness. If eyesight is seeing things as they are, perspective is about "where you see from." Perspective is not about opening your eyes wider, but about shifting the position of your mind.
It means choosing depth over speed, questions over certainty, story over scene, and interpretation over analysis. Even the same scene can reveal a completely different meaning when viewed from another perspective. The woman in Edinburgh seemed to ignore us, but in fact, she simply did not see us. Stephen Covey's audience members were not disruptive chatterers, but passionate learners. Anhoe was not an impatient disciple who could not endure hunger, but one who even saved a spoonful of rice tainted with ash. In an era of fact bombardment, what we need is perspective, not just eyesight. Seeing more does not mean seeing deeper. The truth often hides not right before our eyes, but in places we have yet to look. In this age of busyness, impatience, and information overload, perhaps what we need is a checkup of our perspective, not just our eyesight. While eyesight can be improved with tools like glasses, perspective can only be transformed by moving ourselves.
Kim Seonghoe, CEO of Leadership Research Institute/Coach at Coaching Management Institute
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