Between the Labels

Honoré de Balzac wrote, “The more one judges, the less one loves.”

It’s a striking thought, but it comes with a catch: we can’t simply stop judging. Our brains are hardwired for it. Judgment is an evolutionary reflex, a mental shortcut designed to categorise, label, and keep us safe. When we judge, our brain essentially stamps a file and declares: Case closed. No further investigation needed.

The problem isn’t the reflex, though. The problem is what we throw away when we close the case.

By flattening complexity into certainty, we trade wonder and awe for a false sense of control. We gain safety, but we lose our capacity for magic.

We can’t eliminate the reflex of judgment. But we can change what we do with it.

We can choose curiosity.

While judgment closes the file, curiosity reopens it. Judgment squeezes others into the labels in our head. Curiosity wonders what’s between those labels. Judgment settles for certainty. Curiosity pokes into the unknown.

And that, I’ve learned, is a fundamental part of love.

To be curious requires vulnerability. It means admitting we don’t hold all the answers, tolerating ambiguity, and granting others—and ourselves—the right to remain a mystery. Curiosity is the active refusal to reduce a human being to a static picture.

Judgment is a reflex. Curiosity is a choice. And in that choice, love finds the space it needs to flourish.