Reality is a funny concept.

We live in a world of pluralities too often reduced to dualities. Perception of any phenomenon seems to allow for only two possibilities — pro or con, either-or. Good or bad, for or against.

This is a distinctly Western way of looking at our world. It would probably serve us better to adopt a broader philosophical mindset, one that allows for possible opinions beyond a and b, much like Japanese talk shows that encompass multiple points and counterpoints. Is it possible the ancient wisdom of the Eastern world is on to something valuable?

For instance, what if the inauguration of Donald Trump is neither the beginning of the end for America nor its national salvation? Most likely, the truth is made of many parts and perceptions, some of which encompass recognition of Trump’s well-documented crassness alongside awareness that his more ambiguous qualities create a foggy sense that no one really knows what he’ll do as president.

Complex realities defy assumptions and preconceptions. This month’s endless spinning of the Russian hack story masks the reality that Trump’s rise to power has a great deal to do with the unlimited media attention he was given all year. Who elected Trump, anyway? A critical mass of angry Americans? Putin? A coalition of Republican voters and anti-Clinton voters? An entire year’s shower of invitations from every broadcast commentary and talk show in the country? There’s evidence for some of those answers.

As Facebook would say, “It’s complicated.” It may take years to sort out.

It’s as complicated as the prism of realities that defines Facebook itself. Beyond its functionality as a “secretary” that informs us of friends’ birthdays, Facebook serves unlimited purposes. To some, it’s a warehouse of cute animal videos and baby pictures. Others are prone to sending and receiving messages of sympathy and compassion about troublesome matters. Many members engage in political discussions that end up twisted into such bizarre verbal exchanges that people linked by digital bonds unfriend each other. Outside the fray sits the burned-out faction proclaiming that political posts have long overstayed their welcome, thank you very much, and can’t we just be nice.

It’s one social media platform with a multitude of lenses.

Whatever broad reality a person’s social media lens perceives, weather is as universal a concern on digital platforms as it is in face-to-face communication. As with political and interpersonal perceptions, the reality of weather flickers from one interpretation to another. Until a few years ago, my reality never included winters when magnolia trees blossomed and the “January thaw” lasted six weeks. Until I moved to Georgia at the age of 22, I never knew a summer with weeks of temperatures over 85. Yet there are people who grew up in my time and place who insist these conditions have always been with us. How can we see a common past so differently? To get at the truth in this knot of remembered realities, we would have to analyze years of data.

An entirely fresh, and even artificial, lingo is creating new weather realities that further muddy our memories. Take “thundersnow.” It’s impossible to find references to that term in the ’50s … ’60s … ’70s … ’80s. The Oxford English Dictionary lists it in the “New” column. The reason this is a new coinage is that it describes a new phenomenon. It’s easy to point the finger at climate change.

A similar shift is affecting the reality of childhood medicine. In the past two years, every child in my family has had “foot and mouth disease,” described by doctors as “just a regular childhood illness.” Really? How about “self-limiting virus” — a childhood rash with accompanying fever. Neither illness appeared in my parents’ childhood, in mine, or in my children’s. Despite a rigorous schedule of vaccinations that begins at birth, childhood is still fraught with troubling plagues and afflictions.

Change happens; we all know that. But what does it mean when changes are perceived in such opposite ways by members of a peer group? Truth, despite its allegedly being “out there” is elusive, even with regard to everyday matters of politics, weather, and medicine.

Anyone care to tackle the American diet?

Renee Gravelle is a Dunkirk resident. Send comments to editorial@observertoday.com