In every heartfelt interaction of yours, in every human relationship you establish that reaches the depths of your active care, you play the role of either the giver or the taker.
In social media and pseudoscientific circles, there has been widespread misinterpretation of these two roles. Repeatedly, their complex dimensionality and interactions are compressed into unrealistic caricatures, dramatic idiosyncrasies that seek only to highlight particular instantiations of power imbalance — typically exemplified in abusive dynamics in romantic relationships. This robs the opportunity to analyze the necessary nuance of this bilateral contact present in all human relationships, which indeed include healthy relationships beyond romance. For is the loving mother not possibly a joyous giver to her defenseless taker child? Does the child not then, in reciprocated turn and grace, opt to reverse the roles when the mother is in her aged time of need?
Thus, let us consider our own interpretation of the roles, within the scope of this column alone. Take this interpretable phenomenon not to be rigorous psychology or some orthodox philosophical stance, but rather a possible social framing with which to comprehend yourself and the interplay with those you adore and despise alike. Everyone, in their presumed wise normality, is in dire need of further consciousness of the implications in the acts they commit or the beliefs they hold. The last things most of us consider learning about are the things that invisibly sustain our comfort: our view of ourselves and of those closest to us.
So, the giver is then comprehended to be the person who is more likely to be flexible with their individual desires in times of hesitation or confrontation. They explore maturity in muffling selfishness and may derive pleasure from witnessing the other shine. This behavior does not translate to meekness or an apprehension to stand on their own; on the contrary, they can hold steadfast upon willful sacrifice for the other. The giver is primarily characterized by adaptability in compromise: to cede to a reasonable degree may be what brings them the most gratification by maximizing total happiness.
The taker is, vice versa, discerned as the person who is more likely to honestly pursue their desires when indecision takes hold. More often than not, they possess the capacity to understand what they want or expect and may act on it. The taker is not immediately prideful nor narcissistic; instead, they tend to exhibit resolute assertiveness and resourcefulness.
The canonical case of a healthy manifestation the giver’s and the taker’s tendencies is when deciding on where to eat. The taker may have strong inclinations that are immediately expressed to the giver, who could be disposed to agree even if the proposal is not of their personal utmost preference. It is not that the giver is foregoing their beliefs and desires, making some grand sacrifice, nor is the taker enforcing their will onto the giver unilaterally. It is an agreement that appeals to each: the giver gets the gratification of the taker’s joy. In the end, both parties attain precisely what they sought.
The giver and the taker as roles are born out of the fact that between two people there will always be imbalance. Human relationships cannot be equal, be it due to level of commitment, demonstrations of affection, social or economical standing, availability, culture and ideals or any other marker. Two humans are different, distinct entities. Differences always sow contrasts that will reap imbalance. Therefore, imbalance is not evil or dangerous, but inevitable, and its acknowledgment will benefit everyone. It is in ignorance or presumption where threats actually lie.
In truth, as with all things, excess can be the root of detriment. The unhealthiness some associate with the giver and the taker archetypes emerges from pushing their tendencies to the extreme, coming at the cost of corrupt attachment for the former and the loss of empathy for the latter. This occurs when either party loses their internal safety and eventually their individuality, requiring validation from or control over the other — a tragic result of misappropriated intimacy.
That being said, the giver and the taker are roles in a relationship, not determinants of identity. Therefore, you can be the giver in one relationship and the taker in another. In the very same relationship, the roles can swap or blur throughout time. Additionally, it is perfectly plausible for a relationship to exist between two people who take an identical role, though the hazards in the relationship will heighten. Where there are two givers there will be indecision and directionless elasticity; where there are two takers there will be conflict and multiplicity of directions. Yet if all parties agree to it and get what they want out of it, where is the harm?
There is a constant exercise of expectations and actions for each role: a social dance we subconsciously have practiced for our entire lives. We engage with it at every moment, with our every word, glance or decision. We follow the rules and sway to the rhythm as seen fit; we recite our lines in accordance with what we have observed and what little we can replicate.
Therefore, take a moment: consider — for each of your relationships — are you the giver or the taker? Do you believe that is how it ought to be? What does this state of affairs reveal about yourself? Knowing the truth behind these questions offers insight into something much more genuine than one could ever put into words.
Carlos A. Basurto is a senior at Notre Dame studying philosophy, computer science and German. He's president of the video game club and will convince you to join, regardless of your degree of interest. When not busy, you can find him consuming yet another 3-hour-long video analysis of media he has not consumed while masochistically completing every achievement from a variety of video games. Now, with the power to channel his least insane ideas, feel free to talk about them further at cbasurto@nd.edu.








