The Moralometer.... Flawless Advocates of Ourselves, Merciless Judges of Others!

We’re all excellent lawyers when defending our own mistakes—and ruthless, unforgiving judges when condemning others’.

Recently, I found myself in a discussion where a senior gentleman had remarried—to a woman 15 years younger, who was also previously married. The tea room quickly turned into a courtroom, with some treating it as lighthearted banter while others  delivered harsh verdicts, as if the couple had committed some unspeakable crime against humanity.

That’s when the idea of a Moralometer hit me. Imagine if we had a device to measure just how selectively people apply their moral outrage. One minute, they’re joking about it; the next, they’re acting like divine arbiters of righteousness, ready to burn someone at the stake—conveniently forgetting their own skeletons.

Wouldn’t it be fun to scan the critics first? Just to see where their needle lands before they pass judgment?

Oh, look at them! Having an affair? Disgraceful!

But me? Oh, I had my reasons. 

Context matters, You See.

We all walk around with a built-in moralometer, an internal moral compass we keep meticulously calibrated—to judge everyone except ourselves. And, of course, this gadget works overtime on public figures: politicians, government servants, newsmakers, colleagues, neighbors… basically anyone who isn’t us.

Now, imagine if a real moralometer actually existed—a pocket-sized device that could scan someone and instantly spit out a precise reading of their moral purity. Point it at a criminal? Deep red, seething with evil. Point it at your best friend? Lush green, practically a saint.

Wouldn’t that be useful? A quick pre-marriage scan—before the vows, before the drama. Actually, why wait? Just bring it to the first date and save yourself some trouble. Hiring a new employee? Scan. Choosing a business partner? Scan.

But here’s the hilarious paradox: despite no such machine existing, we all act as if we have one.

We leave a lovely social evening, and what’s the first thing we do? Judge the host. The decor, the wine, the snacks, the company—everything is subject to our forensic analysis. We always just “know” who are the saints, who are the devils, and where everyone else falls in between—except, of course, for ourselves.

Which brings me to an unsettling thought:

Maybe judging moral character is nobody’s business.

Or… maybe it is? If morality is about how we treat others, then perhaps it’s very much everyone’s business. If morality is about how we might behave in hypothetical situations, well—doesn’t that also matter? Wouldn’t a future spouse, a boss, a judge, or even a casual acquaintance want to know if someone has the general tendency to cheat, lie, exploit, and backstab?

Ah, but here’s the catch. In the real world, moral character is often completely irrelevant to success.

 Or worse—sometimes inversely correlated. Some of the most successful business leaders, politicians, actors, and artists have a moral compass that doesn’t just wobble—it’s broken, tossed into a ditch, and set on fire.

In system which we live, having a shaky moral compass isn’t a problem—it’s a badge of honor. 

The smarter you play the game, the better your chances, while the honest and idealistic ones just look cute but clueless. Morality? That’s just an old-fashioned idea, like actually reading the terms and conditions before clicking “Agree.”

So what does all this mean? Maybe your judgments of others say more about you than about them.

Consider this---

If someone constantly complains toyoulu about others, what do you think they do when you’re not around? The odds are—you’re next.

So, the next time someone judges you?

Yawn.

When they misunderstand you?

Smile.

When they underestimate you?

Laugh.

When they condemn you?

Ignore.

When they envy you?

Celebrate.

When they oppose you?

Win.

And if all else fails, remember: The moralometer doesn’t exist, but hypocrisy? 

Oh, that one comes factory-installed in every one of US

The Halo Illusion: How Good Looks Hide Bad Intentions

When Good Looks Deceive: Rethinking Our Inner Judge

“He seemed nice.”
“She looked trustworthy.”
“I just had a feeling…”

How often have we said these things—and been completely wrong?

I used to believe my instinct about people was almost foolproof. Friends said it, colleagues affirmed it—I had that so-called “sixth sense” for judging character.

Until recently, I didn’t.

💡 The Scam That Shook My Confidence

A young man, perhaps in his twenties, came to service my Aqua Guard. He looked clean, spoke politely, seemed informed. After a brief check, he said the unit was unserviceable.

“Why don’t you take an AMC for ₹8500 or ₹5500?” he suggested.
I agreed.

He called once after taking the payment… and then vanished.

When I contacted Eureka Forbes directly, I was told: there is no such service center.

Yes, I’d been conned.
But the real sting? That I’d fallen for it—not because he was clever, but because he looked trustworthy.

That’s when it hit me: my inner judge wasn’t objective—it was biased.

🧠 Enter: The Halo Effect (and Its Evil Twin)

Psychologists call this the Halo Effect—when someone is physically attractive or behaves confidently, we assume they are also good, honest, competent.

And the Devil Effect?
It makes us assume someone is dishonest, awkward, or “creepy” simply because they look or act outside our comfort zone.

So:

• A neat, confident man scams me.
• A heavily tattooed person gets wrongly avoided.
• A woman with a facial deformity gets silently judged in public.

Sounds familiar?

👁 Let’s Talk About Your Inner Judge

Be honest—ever done this?

✅ Quick quiz:

• Have you ever avoided someone just because of their looks?
• Have you instantly liked someone because of their smile or dress?
• Have you assumed someone with a disability was less capable?

We all have. And that doesn’t make us evil.
But it does mean we need to upgrade our thinking.

🚨 The Real Danger Isn't Who You Think

We rely too heavily on what I call our “Creep Radar”—but it’s not detecting actual danger.

Instead, it’s tuned to superficial signals:

• Messy hair? Suspicious.
• Awkward social cues? Creepy.
• Confident voice, nice shirt? Must be reliable.

In truth, your radar is judging difference, not danger.

👣 Here’s What We Can Do, Together

• Talk to the person with the nose ring and dyed pink hair.
• Hire the hardworking woman with a limb difference—not out of pity, but because she’s capable.
• Teach your children not to stare at facial differences, but to see the person behind them.
• Pause before labelling someone a “creep”—and ask: Why do I really feel this way?

📝 What I Learned the Hard Way

I got fooled. But in the process, I learned:

• Looks can lie.
• Politeness can be a mask.
• Our instincts aren’t perfect—they’re programmed with bias.

And perhaps most importantly:
The real creeps aren’t always the ones who look unusual—
They’re often the ones who blend in perfectly.

🎯 Challenge for You

Next time you feel an instant judgement about someone, ask yourself:

• Is this about them?
• Or is it about my conditioning?

Because real wisdom lies not in reading faces,
But in recognizing our own filters.

Let’s break free of the Halo Trap.

Psychological Time: The Netflix Series You Never Asked For

Trapped in Time, Running from Time, and Missing the Damn Moment

You know what’s wild?

There was a recent phase in my life when time just... stopped. Like, completely. Every second dragged like it was trying to break the world record for “slowest moment ever.” I was stuck in this loop, thinking, “Will this misery ever end?” Time felt like that one clingy guest at a party who doesn’t get the hint to leave.

But suddenly? It’s like someone hit the fast-forward button on my life. The period have disappeared faster than my salary in a month. I blink, and boom—months gone. Suddenly, I’m full of energy, vibing with life, wondering if I accidentally drank some sort of cosmic Red Bull.

What changed?

Let me introduce you to the shady cousin of real time:

  Psychological Time.Meet Psychological Time: The Drama Queen in Your Brain

You know how your body’s in one place, but your brain has already written three future disaster scripts and revisited that embarrassing thing you said in 2009?

Yeah. That’s psychological time.

It’s the brain’s way of hijacking the moment and tossing you into either:

• The Museum of Regrets (Past)
• Or the Hall of Horrible What-Ifs (Future)

Meanwhile, life is standing there, sipping coffee, going, “Um, you good bro?”

Clock Time vs. Psychological Time (A Sassy Comparison)

• Clock Time is the adult in the room. It helps you show up to your dental appointment, catch flights, and meet deadlines. It’s responsible. Boring, but useful.

• Psychological Time is that overthinking gremlin living rent-free in your head, whispering things like,
  “Remember that awkward text from last year?”
  “What if your boss hates you?”
  “Maybe that mole is fatal.”

And suddenly, you're spiraling. Not because anything actually happened… but because your brain decided to hold a full-blown anxiety parade.

Why We Keep Getting Stuck (and Can't Find the Exit Sign)

Let me tell you a tragic tale: I watched one bad news clip and spent the next three hours emotionally processing it like it was my own personal crisis. I mean, sure, I was just sipping tea in my living room, but my mind was basically in a warzone.

Now imagine it's not the news—it’s something personal. A breakup.  That awkward whatsap call where you said “Thanks you.”
Boom. You're trapped in your mind’s own Netflix drama: “Overthinker Diaries: Season 7.”

How to Break Up with Psychological Time (Without Ghosting Reality)

Look, I’m not saying ignore your problems and start petting unicorns. But maybe—just maybe—we don’t have to obsessively rewatch the same tragic brain movie every day.

Here’s the cheat code:

1. Use Clock Time like a boss – Plan, schedule, show up.
2. Avoid marinating in thoughts – If there's nothing you can do right now, take a breath and stop doom-scrolling your own brain.
3. Be where your butt is – Sounds weird, but think about it. If your body is in the kitchen, and your brain is in 2032, you’ve officially time-traveled… and not in a cool way.

Present Moment ...Now Streaming , Limited Time offer

Want peace of mind?
Want to stop fighting invisible dragons all day?

Try this: Just be here. With your snack. Or your task. Or your nap. Whatever it is, do it like it’s the only thing that exists.

Because honestly, it is

“The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.”
— Some poetic insect, probably chilling in a garden, not worried about their email inbox

So maybe we should stop measuring life in deadlines, worries, and mental reruns. Maybe we should just count the good coffee sips, the songs we vibed to, and the tiny wins.

Time’s weird. But present? That’s magic.