Occam's Razor

Occam's Razor, for anybody unfamiliar with it, is a principle of parsimony, an edict of economy, and a statute of succinctness (alliteration is important). Basically, the idea is that, say, for explaining a situation, the simplest explanation is the closest to the truth, based on the notion that the universe is probabilistically opposed to complexity. Similarly, for speaking, the concise version is always better, and so on. "Simple=good," in summary.

Occam's Razor is a handy theory for the more quantitative, material parts of life, like physics problems and the like. Taking fewer steps to solve a math problem, assuming you manage it with the same accuracy, would be regarded by most people to be better. Making fewer trips to the grocery store burns less of your gasoline or joint tissue, spending less time doing dishes makes more for watching Oprah, and so on.

What Occam's Razor is not is a guiding principle for your life in general, especially your relationships with other people. My main issue with the Razor is this: it assumes that not just procedures but the universe at large favors simplicity and concision. This simply isn't true, regardless of your opinions about how things came to be. Just look at the universe's evolution: hydrogen is a colorless, tasteless, one-particle gas inclined to bond insularly with itself that, if you leave it alone, waits fourteen billion years and then turns into humans. Even the most basic forms of life are complex to the point of ridiculousness; atoms form molecules that form bigger molecules that form more kinds of molecules that form structures that form other structures that attach to other structures that form organelles that form one cell. It's insanity to label "simple" life as such; nothing more complex exists than life itself.

So, given that life appears to be a series of structures built upon one another in orders of increasing complexity, in what realm is it reasonable to assume that an interaction between two of us will be simple?

The universe has been ticking for fourteen billion years, random pockets of denser mass collapsing more and more mass into themselves to form galaxies, stars shining and blowing out to synthesize heavy elements, planets smashing and reforming. The seemingly-endless arms race of biology, drawn out in a single line, doesn't even cover a quarter of the paper. All this time and development, all this complexity, all this fundamental drive of creation, in fourteen billion years, has created you, and your friends, and your dog, and everything and everyone you see.

It did not do this so you could leap to conclusions.

Life is complicated, social life most of all; seeing is no longer believing, especially in this age of yellow journalism and misinformation. Every event is only the latest in a vast chain reaction leading back ultimately to the beginning of time itself, one more domino falling on a floor without boundaries. The barista making your coffee did not forget your caramel drizzle because she's stupid; her brother was just arrested and she's distracted. The man who bumped your shoulder on BART this morning is not an "asshole;" he's wearing the uniform of a security guard, and he's working double night shifts to keep his house, and hasn't slept properly in weeks. Fight the temptation to shave away the beautiful complexity of all creation with the mind-narrowing perspective of the Razor; life, especially life as complicated and multidimensional as ours, does not deal in singular sharp lines.

TL;DR Don't react. Respond.