There’s a subtle but powerful force that shapes who we become, not through conscious choice but through repeated exposure, inherited assumptions and the silent architecture of the world around us. I will call it the Blueprint effect. Think of a blueprint: a detailed plan from which something is built. In the same way, each of us grows up surrounded by an invisible blueprint for how to live, how to relate, how to think about ourselves and others. This “plan” isn’t handed to us formally. It’s embedded in everyday things: how people are spoken about, what’s praised or punished, who gets to speak and who is silenced, what stories are told and which are left out. Most of us never consciously choose this blueprint, we just absorb it. That’s the danger.
The mind is deeply social. It learns through imitation, repetition and context. That means even if we personally disagree with ideas like corruption, discrimination or exploitation, we can still become complicit in them. Not because we’re bad people. But because our blueprint silently permits them or worse, normalises them.
For instance:
A child grows up hearing jokes that demean certain groups. No one explains why it’s wrong, so it simply becomes “how people talk.”
A young professional watches older colleagues cut corners or manipulate systems. It's shrugged off as being “clever” or “pragmatic.”
A person internalises self-doubt or shame, not because anyone told them to but because they never saw someone like them celebrated or represented.
None of these people chose these beliefs. They simply inherited them. That’s the infection: when unhelpful, limiting or destructive concepts embed themselves in our minds before we have the tools to examine or challenge them.
We don’t have to keep building the same house. The good news is that blueprints can be revised. But the process takes intention and time. It starts by becoming conscious of the inherited patterns we carry and recognising which ones were never truly ours.
This isn’t just about “unlearning prejudice” (though that’s certainly part of it). It’s about noticing:
How we excuse harm because “that’s just how the world works.”
How we silence ourselves to stay likeable or safe.
How we reward control, ignorance or detachment, even when they cost us humanity and connection.
When we see the blueprint, we can question it. And when we question it, we create room for something truer, something chosen.
It takes personal and collective responsibility. If we want to build societies that are more just, compassionate and honest, we must each look inward. Not with shame but with courage. The goal isn’t to prove we’re “one of the good ones.” It’s to notice where we've been shaped by what we never asked for and to choose again.
Let’s stop building lives from broken plans and parts. Let’s get curious about what’s underneath the walls we’ve lived within. Only then can we draw a different kind of future.
