By Jason Lim

Imagine that you are a caveman looking out over the horizon and see an unfamiliar figure approaching. You immediately view the figure as a threat, preparing for the prototypical fight or flight response. Adrenalin and Cortisone prime you for immediate action. Your brain's executive functions (pre-frontal cortex) are shut down because there no time to "think" through this situation. Your instincts have to take over. This is life or death. This is us vs. them.

We are the descendants of this caveman and his survival instinct that classifies everything he sees into unfamiliar vs. familiar, threat or reward, friend or foe, and us vs. them. This is what human beings are primed to do at our most basic level. We like simple duality. It makes taking sides much easier to do when taking the right side used to mean surviving. We like the stark clarity that simple duality gives us because this is how our brain evolved to keep us alive. Duality is a cognitive habit that's instinctive to us.

We see this in small children in their tendency to classify the world as good or bad and friend or foe from their self-centered viewpoint. As they grow, their intellectual maturity can actually be defined by the ability to deal with complexity by taking in conflicting views and synthesizing them into a coherent whole.

Unfortunately, that maturing process towards complexity is not happening too quickly in Korea. What's Korea if not a the world's primary example of duality; it's the only remaining country in the world that's still divided into two: North vs. the South; Red commies vs. free democracy; socialism vs. capitalism; Soviet Union vs. United States; failed state vs. Miracle on the Han River; isolationist vs. internationalist; tyrant vs. president. And the list goes on.

Basically, take the cognitive habit that comes naturally to human beings and reinforce it at every level with immersive messaging across the political and socio-cultural spectrum over the last 70 years of division of the Koreas, all saying the same thing: it's Us vs. Them. No wonder this whole reunification thing is going to take some work.

However, this duality isn't limited to talking about North vs. South Korea. This cognitive habit of simple duality, that's been finely honed across generations of Koreans in both countries, has become the fundamental paradigm that drives public debate in Korea. It's winner take all in everything. There is no middle ground because the basic cognitive framework that drives all behavior is all about us. vs. them.

Henry Clay, the 19th century U.S. Senator called "the great compromiser" once said that "All legislation, all government, all society is formed upon the principle of mutual concession, politeness, comity, courtesy; upon these, everything is based."

But how can concession, politeness, comity, and courtesy exist when you are always in the fight or flight mode where all arguments are framed as do or die? Everything becomes a moral struggle of good vs. evil. No wonder the public debate over anything becomes an exercise in hyperbolic breathlessness without substance, always asking you the same question: "Whose side are you on?"

Korea is a fundamentalist society precisely because it demands artificial clarity based on simple duality. However, in Korea, it's been honed to a greater degree and deeply imprinted in the Korean psyche because of the peculiar nature of its division. It's almost like a collective immaturity; but if everyone's immature, then the mature adult in the room is ignored and no intelligent, nuanced conversation is possible.

Just witness the debate over textbooks, which is in large part about defining the legacy of Park Chung-hee. Like any historical figure, his behavior and legacy are complex and contextual to the times that he lived in. He was a brutal dictator who tortured and killed many without due process but a brilliant leader who drove the Miracle on the Han River and Korea's rise from abject poverty in the aftermath of the Korean War. His achievements should rightfully be celebrated and honored; his abuses should be taught as lessons for future generations. In short, he should be treated in all his complexity. But Korea demands that he be defined as good or bad; he's not allowed to be good and bad.

Unfortunately, no one and nothing is that simple. We all have pros and cons within us. All problems are complex across multiple dimensions with many stakeholders all bringing their own perspectives. In order to move the conversation forward, you have to validate one another's perspective. You can't seek to delegitimize one another in a plural society when trying to compromise on a solution.

But complexity gives us headaches because we now have to spend energy to exercise our executive functions to analyze, ponder, and digest the unfamiliar. It means that we have to make an effort to be in the other person's shoes. Complexity goes against our tendency to classify everything into Us. vs. Them. That's why complexity and compromise are so emotionally unsatisfying; they go against our instincts.

But this is what every successful democracy has to learn to do: deal with complexity by resisting the urge to impose a duality into everything. This is the essence of inclusion. This is the mark of maturity.

Jason Lim is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture. He has been writing for The Korea Times since 2006. He can be reached at jasonlim@msn.com, facebook.com/jasonlimkoreatimes and @jasonlim2012.