Who’s Observing?

Even if no one else is watching, I am observing myself—unless I’m asleep or dead. The idea of a constant observer is fundamental to everything that exists. As a result, everything easily becomes relative, depending on who is observing. But what does this mean for our everyday lives? More importantly, how can this understanding help us improve ourselves and the quality of our lives?

Let’s explore a simple example: an untidy room—not just as something we see, but as a phenomenon involving different associated factors. The meaning of an untidy room depends on who the observer is. To make this more practical, we can ask, “For whom is the room untidy?” Let’s assume it’s my room. The first question is: who finds it untidy? Typically, when we call something untidy, we imply that it appears untidy to everyone. But if we think more carefully, we realize that what looks messy to me might be meaningful or even helpful to someone else. Some people intentionally leave their environment seemingly disorganised to help them remember exactly where they left a task or an object, making it easier to pick up where they left off. Sometimes, this “mess” is a very meaningful strategy.

Returning to the original example: if my room is untidy, it could be so for me, or for others. When we say it’s untidy “for others,” the next question arises: Who is identifying the untidiness?
If it’s untidy for me, ideally, I should be the one recognizing it. If it’s untidy for others, it would need to be recognized by all others, which is hardly simple. In reality, perhaps only one other person sees it as untidy—and for that individual, it truly is untidy. Not necessarily for everyone else.

Yet, we often assume that what seems untidy to us is universally agreed upon. While that assumption can be useful, it’s never completely accurate. Everyone has different perspectives, and having one opinion for all is practically absurd. So, while something that appears messy to one person might also seem messy to others, we can’t easily know how many would agree—and the range is wide.

What does this mean for our daily lives?
When two people interact, each with their own observations and judgments, they must remain aware of the limitations of their perspectives. Ideally, a neutral third-person observation could help—but finding such a perfect observer may seem impossible.
When I say “perfect,” I mean someone who can fully understand both perspectives, grasp the entire context, and appreciate the purpose behind everything—a capacity human beings don’t possess.

Interestingly, throughout this discussion, another critical factor emerges: purpose.
Different observers will naturally have different purposes. This diversity increases the complexity of any observational decision.
So how can we manage this in everyday life and reduce the potential chaos?

There are two stages of management, depending on what we can afford:

  1. The first and simpler stage is to keep our opinions mostly to ourselves, offering them to others only with full respect for their personal views.
  2. The second, more complicated stage involves finding a third party whose observations can be assumed “ideal” because they are strongly connected to a shared higher purpose.
    Such a third party is impossible to find—unless you believe in God and follow divine guidance as a group.

Without an ideal third observer or instructor for our respective groups, we must limit our judgments to ourselves. This fosters a world that values “freedom of personal choice.”
This seems helpful because it reduces the chaos of multiple conflicting observations. However, when personal choice leads to tragic outcomes, like suicide, I feel the deep need for a true third party, a higher guide.

Do you feel the same?
I would love to know what you think!

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