Let’s be honest. We’ve all judged someone before knowing the full story. A late coworker? “Ugh, they’re so disorganized.” A friend didn’t reply to your text? “ They must be mad.” A stranger helped an old lady cross the street. “What a sweetheart.”
See what just happened? That’s attribution theory in full swing. And wow, is it wild how much it shapes how we see the world—and ourselves.
This topic isn’t just some abstract psychobabble. It’s about how we explain stuff. Why things happen. Who we blame (or praise). And get this—it says more about us than we think.
So picture this: someone aces an exam.
You might say, “They must be brilliant!”
Or: “Probably got lucky with the questions.”
That’s attribution in action.
🧍♀️ Internal (aka dispositional) = “It’s who they are.”
🌎 External (aka situational) = “It’s what happened around them.”
We do this dance all the time—sometimes without even realizing it.
Here’s the twist, though: when it’s about us, we tend to flip the script.
If we succeed? “I worked hard. I’m smart.”
If we fail? “The teacher was unfair. The test was impossible.”
That sneaky switch-up? It’s called the self-serving bias, and trust me, we all do it.
Do you ever meet someone who turns every L into a life lesson? Or someone who thinks a hangnail means the world is ending?
That’s their explanatory style talking.
Optimistic style:
“I nailed that because I’m capable.”
“Eh, today sucked, but tomorrow’s another shot.”
Pessimistic style:
“That win was a fluke.”
“I failed because I’m a failure. And I always mess up.”
This mindset stuff matters. It affects resilience, mental health, and even how people bounce back from breakups or bad grades.
I’ve seen it firsthand: those who believe setbacks are temporary? They rise. The ones who think they’re doomed? They spiral.
Changing your explanatory style isn’t magic. But awareness? That’s the first step.
Okay, time to get real.
Have you ever judged someone hard, then found out the full story later and felt like a jerk?
Welcome to the world of biases in attribution:
When YOU mess up: “It was the situation!”
When THEY mess up: “They’re just like that.”
Classic.
Someone’s being rude? “They’re rude.”
Reality? Maybe they’re exhausted, grieving, or just spilled coffee down their shirt five minutes ago.
We tend to underestimate context and overestimate personality. It’s fast, it’s instinctive, but it’s not always fair.
We’re the hero when we win.
We’re the victim when we lose.
It’s human. It’s protective. But sometimes? It clouds reality.
Are you the captain of your fate, or just riding the waves?
That’s the question behind locus of control.
Internal: “I make my life happen.”
External: “Life just… happens to me.”
People with an internal LOC?
They hustle. They adapt. They own their stuff—even the messy parts.
People with an external LOC?
They feel stuck. Powerless. Like the universe is out to get them.
But hold up—it’s not black and white. Balance is key.
Sometimes stuff is out of our hands. And acknowledging that can be freeing.
Just don’t let it become an excuse. That’s the difference.
Ever heard a song and thought, “Meh,” but by the 10th time it was your jam?
That’s the mere exposure effect.
Basically, the more we see something (or someone), the more we tend to like it. It’s familiarity bias, and it runs everything from
Ads you subconsciously trust
Songs that get stuck in your head
People at work you “click with” just because they’re around
It’s subtle. It’s sneaky. And it totally explains why your playlist is 60% overplayed hits. (Guilty.)
This one hits deep.
Let’s say a teacher believes a kid is gifted.
They treat them with extra attention, encouragement, and trust.
The kid thrives.
Not because they were gifted—but because they were treated like they were.
That’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Flip side?
If you think someone doesn’t like you, you act distant. They mirror that. Boom—you “prove” they dislike you. Even if it was never true.
Your beliefs don’t just shape what you see. They shape what happens.
Wild, right?
We all compare. It’s not a flaw—it’s instinct.
But how do we compare? That’s where it gets interesting.
Looking at people “above” you
Can spark motivation (“If they can, I can”)
Or spiral into inadequacy (“I’ll never be that good”)
Looking at people “below” you
Can boost self-esteem (“At least I’m not struggling like that”)
Or breed complacency (“I’m good enough”)
Then there’s relative deprivation:
That feeling of being left out even if your life is pretty decent—just because someone else seems to have it better.