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A couple of weeks ago, after a hiking accident, I found myself in a hospital. Despite feeling raw, when the doctor entered, I noticed something about his scrubs. They were inside-out.
I didn’t say anything at first, but my internal monologue was on it: Does he know? Would it be kind to say something? Or is it not my business… and just awkward?
But as he handed me my discharge papers, I decided to go for it. In response, he paused and deadpanned: “Most scrubs are reversible.” In other words, they were fine.
It was mildly embarrassing, but also clarifying. Not about hospital attire, but about something else: Kindness isn’t just about getting it right. It’s about taking the risk of getting it wrong.
Brave Kindness in Space
I thought back to that moment in the ER as I sat in a theater watching Project Hail Mary. The new sci-fi movie starring Ryan Gosling, based on the book by Andy Weir, is a story about survival and friendship between two very different beings trying to save their planets.
At one point, the alien, Rocky, offers that Grace, the human played by Gosling, is: “Risking self to help others.” They define that as bravery. But it’s also a compelling definition of kindness.
Kindness gets categorized as simple, even obvious. Just be kind.
But in practice, it’s more complicated. Should you text a grieving friend, or is that intrusive? Do you give a restaurant honest feedback, or smile and move on? Do you help someone you don’t fully trust, or protect yourself?
When we don’t know what the kind thing is or how it will be received, we’re exposed. We might misread the moment. We might be seen as too much, or not enough.
Psychologically, we’re wired to avoid that kind of social risk, especially the risk of being misunderstood or rejected. And that’s exactly where the bravery comes in.
Don’t Be Naive
A voice that pulls us away from kindness is the one that says: Don’t be naive. Protect your boundaries.
In Project Hail Mary, Grace first approaches Rocky’s ship not to offer help, but with a weapon in hand. There’s wisdom in that instinct. The underlying belief is that we need to defend ourselves and that kindness exposes us.
But there’s also something safe about that story. It gives us a reason to pull back and choose distance and protection over vulnerability.
I notice these moments all the time. Perhaps you have, too, with a stranger, a family member, or someone in need… moments when you weren’t sure if you were being kind or simply overextending yourself.
A few years ago, I received an invitation to a going-away party for a boss I had a complicated and, at times, painful relationship with. I was planning to skip it, and it would have been easy to justify.
But I sensed I had a choice—one that would require me to give something up: my sense of being self-righteous.
So I went. I wrote her a card where I named, sincerely, what I appreciated about her. It wasn’t kind because it was easy. It was kind because it was hard. A few days later, she sent me a message: “I was imperfect.”
The Nebula of Kindness
There’s another challenge: it’s not always obvious what kindness looks like.
Sometimes kindness means action: texting a grieving friend, “I don’t know what to say, but I’ve been thinking of you.” Sometimes it’s saying the uncomfortable thing, whether that’s pointing out a chia seed in someone’s teeth or offering feedback that might land imperfectly.
Other times, kindness is restraint. It’s choosing not to respond to a political barb from a family member or giving an ex space instead of reaching out.
So the question isn’t just, will I be kind? It’s: What does kindness mean here? Brave kindness is also about the vulnerability of not knowing.
In the scrubs moment, my attempt to help fell flat. But that doesn’t make the act less meaningful. If anything, it clarifies that the courage is in the offering.
After all, how many acts of kindness have been short-circuited because we worried they would be taken the wrong way?
We All Teeter
My brother once told me he admired what he called my “brave kindness.” He said he saw me giving others the benefit of the doubt, connecting with strangers, and judging a bit less.
The truth is, I often miss moments to be kind. But I’ve learned this: it’s okay to hesitate. It’s okay to worry about being taken advantage of. It’s okay not to know the kind thing to do. And it’s okay to get it wrong.
In Project Hail Mary, when Rocky asks for the human word for “to risk self to help another,” Grace’s first response is to call it dumb, not brave. It’s funny, but it captures something real. We want to be kind but also to avoid being foolish.
Kindness doesn’t usually require grand sacrifice. But it does ask us to risk something smaller and more immediate: our certainty, our comfort, our sense of being right.
You might notice these moments in your own life, the quiet hesitation before reaching out, speaking up, or offering care. That hesitation isn’t a problem. It’s just the place where bravery—and kindness—begin.
