(a little too much actually)
And it seems like, for me at least, the mechanism that enables me to be non-judgmental of other people lies in always assuming there is more to the story, and that people always have reasons for doing the things they do.
Sometimes it turns out that the rest of the story reveals the person in question to be the villain, and the reasons they have for doing the things they do are perverted and horrible. But if I begin our interactions with an attitude of curiosity rather than condemnation, I often get to hear their story and their reasons; even if I ultimately decide that nope, this person is actually a terrible menace to the human condition and I need to vacate them from my life ASAP, I will at least have afforded them the dignity of being seen as a person.*
But far more often, the rest of the story reveals the person to be just that: a person, with hopes and dreams and motivations and needs and desires and fears. It reveals a common humanity, which, even if we vehemently disagree on issues dear to my heart and essential to my system of values, is something I must respect (as part of that aforementioned system of values, in fact). People rarely do things without a reason for them, even if that reason is unconscious; seeking to understand others’ motivations gives value to their perspective even if it is one with which I disagree.**
*This has caveats and exceptions, of course; for example, interactions with known child molesters would also begin with a general attitude of “this is not okay and I will not give you any scrap of validation for your disgusting actions.” I haven’t fully explored the limits of this whole perspective yet.
**This is part of why being called irrational riles me up so quickly — it assumes that the outsider perspective (and, in the gendered context of this word, that outsider is generally male) is the only one that matters and that there is no internal logic to one’s thoughts or actions. Which is condescending and, in the vast majority of cases, patently untrue.