The Danger of a Single Story: Why Every Voice Matters
- Daven Seebarran
- Oct 6
- 5 min read
“The problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.”— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Stories shape how we see the world — and whose voices we believe. Every culture, workplace, and community runs on stories: about who belongs, who leads, and whose experience defines “normal.” But when one person, group, or institution becomes the sole storyteller — when one story is treated as truth — we create conditions for misunderstanding, exclusion, and even harm.
Listening to many voices isn’t about political correctness or courtesy. It’s about accuracy, justice, and survival. It’s about ensuring that the picture we hold of our world is as complete and honest as possible.
The Simplicity of a Single Story
Single stories are comforting. They provide certainty in a complex world. They tell us who the heroes and villains are, who’s right and wrong, who deserves success and who doesn’t.
But the world is rarely that simple. When one narrative dominates — whether it’s “this is how we do things here,” or “these people are always like that” — we stop asking questions. We stop seeing nuance. And in doing so, we erase the complexity that makes communities and individuals human.
Example: For decades, the “expert” story in Western medicine was that pain is universal — that everyone feels it the same way. But studies later revealed that Black patients’ pain was systematically undertreated because medical professionals, influenced by a long history of racial bias, were taught (implicitly or explicitly) that Black bodies were “stronger” or felt less pain. A single story — false, incomplete, and unchallenged — directly harmed lives.
When Experts Become the Only Voices
There is real danger when expertise becomes a gatekeeper to truth. Experts play a crucial role, but when their perspective is treated as the only valid one, entire realities are ignored.
In social policy, for example, data-driven approaches often overshadow lived experience. Numbers can tell us what is happening, but not why or how it feels. When housing policy is developed without input from people experiencing homelessness, programs may look efficient on paper but fail in practice.
Example: In 2018, a city in the U.S. launched a homelessness reduction initiative designed entirely by consultants and economists. They built a system that prioritized “cost efficiency” — moving people through shelters faster. But those who had actually experienced homelessness warned that speed wasn’t the issue; stability and trauma-informed care were. The program collapsed within two years. Only after the city began co-designing solutions with affected communities did progress take hold.
The Psychological Toll: How Single Stories Shape Identity
The danger of a single story isn’t only systemic — it’s deeply personal. When people hear one story about who they are, they often start to internalize it.
In schools, when Indigenous students are told their communities are “troubled,” it shapes self-perception and limits potential.
In workplaces, when leaders assume younger staff lack experience or older staff resist change, those assumptions become self-fulfilling.
In society, when media repeatedly portrays racialized groups through the lens of crime or poverty, public perception — and policy — follows.
Example: The “model minority” myth about Asian communities is another single story. It seems positive on the surface, but it erases diversity within those communities and pressures individuals to meet unrealistic expectations. It also drives a wedge between racial groups, undermining solidarity and obscuring shared struggles.
Single stories confine people to boxes they never built for themselves. They flatten identity into stereotype.
Organizational Consequences: When One Perspective Rules
In organizations, a single story might sound like:
“We’re a meritocracy — everyone here succeeds based on talent.”
“We’ve always done it this way.”
“Our clients prefer this approach.”
Each of these statements can close the door to reflection. They can prevent organizations from seeing inequities in hiring, culture, or service delivery.
Example: At a large tech company, leadership once insisted that their hiring process was “neutral” because it relied on algorithms. But the algorithm had been trained on years of historical data — which reflected the company’s own gender bias. The result: women were systematically screened out. The single story of objectivity masked a deeper, structural inequity.
Single stories in organizations create echo chambers. They limit innovation, silence dissent, and drive away those whose experiences challenge the dominant narrative.
The Social Impact: Polarization and Division
At the societal level, the dominance of single stories feeds polarization. When people are exposed only to information that confirms their worldview — through algorithms, media bubbles, or political rhetoric — empathy erodes.
In these environments, dialogue feels dangerous. People stop listening and start defending. The distance between “us” and “them” widens until collaboration seems impossible.
Example: The rise of misinformation around vaccines during COVID-19 is a case study in competing single stories. In communities where mistrust of the healthcare system was already high — due to historic exclusion or mistreatment — the official narrative (“trust the science”) fell flat. Public health experts who took the time to listen to community concerns and co-create messaging saw far higher vaccination rates than those who dismissed skepticism outright.
Listening breaks the cycle of division. It allows new, shared stories to emerge — ones that reflect complexity rather than erase it.
Moving Beyond the Single Story
To counter the danger of a single story, we must intentionally cultivate multiplicity — in leadership, media, education, and everyday conversations. That means:
Diverse Leadership: Decision-making tables should include those directly affected by the outcomes. Representation without real voice is not inclusion.
Deep Listening: Go beyond collecting opinions — listen for what is not being said.
Narrative Humility: Approach every conversation with the understanding that no one holds the full truth.
Co-Creation: Shift from speaking for communities to creating with them.
Example: The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) launched “Beyond the Binary,” a storytelling initiative led by Two-Spirit, trans, and non-binary journalists. Rather than reporting about communities, they invited people to tell their own stories, in their own words. The result wasn’t just better journalism — it was a fuller truth.
The Story We Choose to Tell
Every time we center multiple voices, we write a more complete story of who we are. Every time we silence or overlook a perspective, we risk misunderstanding the world around us.
The danger of a single story lies not only in what it says, but in what it leaves out — the wisdom, the pain, the creativity, and the truth that live in the margins.
As leaders, educators, and community builders, our responsibility is not to speak the loudest but to listen the deepest. Because the future — and the truth — are always found in the chorus, not the solo.
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