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Some time in the early 1960s, on a blistering 104°F July afternoon in the small town of Coleman, Texas, four people sat on a porch doing what sane humans do in that kind of heat: absolutely nothing. Dr. Jerry Harvey, his wife, and his in-laws were quietly sipping cold drinks and playing dominoes while fine West Texas dust drifted through the air.
Out of nowhere, Harvey’s father-in-law suggested they get into his un-air-conditioned 1958 Buick and drive 85 kilometres north to Abilene for dinner at a cafeteria.
To Harvey, this sounded absurd. Why abandon a perfectly good porch for a long, dusty ride in an oven on wheels? But before he could object, his wife cheerfully agreed and asked him, “Do you want to go?”
Cornered, he said yes, as long as it was okay with his mother-in-law.
She didn’t want to go either, but not wanting to be the lone dissenter, she said yes too.
And just like that, the plan was on.
They drove through heat and dust, arrived sweaty and miserable, ate a forgettable cafeteria meal, and then drove all the way back in the same suffocating conditions.
Hours later, back on the porch in front of a tired electric fan, Harvey finally broke the silence and said, “Well… that was a good trip, wasn’t it?”
What followed was chaos.
Each person confessed, almost indignantly, that they had never wanted to go. Everyone had agreed only because they thought everyone else was enthusiastic.
A 170-kilometre round trip, taken solely to satisfy the imaginary preferences of others.
That bizarre little Sunday gave birth to one of the most revealing ideas in human behaviour: The Abilene Paradox.
Harvey, a management guru, eventually realised that groups often end up doing things that no individual truly wants, simply because everyone assumes the others are in favour. It can look like groupthink from the outside, but it is quite different. In groupthink, people stay silent because there is actual pressure from the group. In the Abilene Paradox, that pressure is largely imaginary. The fear here is not disagreement itself, but the possibility of creating discomfort for others.
This is why people agree to plans they do not care for, compromise on ideas they do not believe in, or commit to decisions they were unsure about from the beginning. Most of us would rather tolerate some inconvenience ourselves than risk even a small amount of social friction, especially in groups where harmony feels more important than clarity. Over time, these quiet concessions accumulate, and we find ourselves moving in a direction that no one individually chose, but everyone collectively drifted into.
Once you start noticing this pattern, it shows up everywhere.
Projects get approved even when all the people in the room have private doubts. Strategies move forward because everyone assumes someone else has thought it through. Leaders often misread polite silence as genuine agreement.
Vacations, dinners, weddings and major life choices are frequently shaped by assumptions rather than honest preferences. Everyone tries to keep everyone else comfortable, and ironically, no one ends up comfortable at all.
We have all attended social plans we were not excited about, only to discover later that no one in the group was truly keen. The group simply drifted in the direction of the first suggestion that was made.
Large groups often misjudge what the majority actually believes. People assume others hold more extreme positions than they do. What looks like consensus is often simply pluralistic ignorance, amplified by the lack of honest conversations.
The cost of this pattern is subtle at first. But over time, it can lead to resentment, poor decisions, unnecessary compromises, and a growing sense of moving through life on autopilot rather than with intention.
Why we drift is rooted in psychology that once protected us.
We underestimate how open others might be to hearing a different point of view. We overestimate the discomfort that honesty might create.
We misread silence as endorsement, even when the silence is simply hesitation. And we place a high value on maintaining short term harmony, even if the long term outcome suffers.
These instincts are not irrational. They are social tools we have developed over thousands of years, shaped by environments where group harmony often mattered for survival. The problem is that they remain active even in situations where a moment of clarity would serve everyone better.
Getting out of Abilene does not require bravery, only a pause.
Most of the time, it takes a small check-in before agreement to stop a group from drifting into a decision no one wants. A simple question usually reveals the truth quickly: does this plan genuinely work for me, or am I going along because I think someone else wants it?
If the answer is the latter, it is very likely the others feel the same way.
Harvey often said that most groups do not need people to be bold. They need someone to create a gentle opening where honesty feels safe.
A question worth reflecting on
Think about a decision in your own life that you went along with even though you were unsure. If you had expressed your actual preference, would the group have chosen something very different? And more importantly, is there any version of that Abilene trip that you are still on today?
If you have a story like this, write to us at plainsight@wyzr.in. We would love to feature some of the most thoughtful reflections in future editions.
What we are reading this week
The Fearless Organization by Amy Edmondson
A clear and insightful exploration of why people hold back their real opinions in teams, and how psychological safety shapes everything from decision making to creativity. It offers a useful way to understand why groups drift toward decisions that do not reflect what anyone actually wants.
Best,
Utkarsh