For, to be a stranger is naturally a very positive relation; it
For, to be a stranger is naturally a very positive relation; it is a specific form of interaction.
Hear the voice of Georg Simmel, sage of society, who declared: “For, to be a stranger is naturally a very positive relation; it is a specific form of interaction.” These words, though spoken in the realm of sociology, shine like a lantern for all who walk the path of human fellowship. The stranger, often seen as alien, unknown, or even dangerous, is here revealed as a bearer of newness, a vessel of possibility. Simmel teaches us that the outsider is not merely absence of belonging, but the presence of a unique and fruitful bond.
The origin of this saying lies in Simmel’s reflections on modern life, where cities swelled with migrants and merchants, and the ancient order of fixed communities gave way to a dance of endless encounters. In his essay The Stranger (1908), he wrote of the trader who journeys into a village, belonging yet not belonging, carrying both goods and ideas from afar. This interaction, though fragile, was not negative; it created bridges, expanded horizons, and revealed truths unseen by those bound within the same soil. The stranger is both near and far, both inside and outside—a paradox that makes his relation profoundly positive.
Consider the story of Marco Polo, who journeyed from Venice into the heart of China. To the people he met, he was a stranger, yet his very strangeness opened doors. He carried with him not only goods, but knowledge, stories, and technologies that reshaped the world. His presence was not a void but a gift, a positive relation that connected empires. Without such strangers, civilizations would have remained locked within themselves, blind to the vastness beyond their borders. The outsider, by virtue of difference, becomes the teacher.
Yet let us not imagine the stranger is always welcomed with open arms. Fear of the unfamiliar has often led to suspicion, exile, and cruelty. And still, Simmel’s wisdom tells us: even when met with resistance, the interaction between self and stranger transforms both. The very tension of difference sharpens identity, teaching a people who they are by showing them who they are not. Thus, whether by friendship or by conflict, the stranger is a force that reshapes the world.
The lesson for us is clear: do not despise the stranger, for within them lies the key to growth. To live only among those who mirror us is to stagnate. To meet the stranger—in culture, in thought, in experience—is to be invited into a sacred interaction that enlarges the soul. The positive relation of the stranger is not comfort, but transformation. Embrace it, and you will be more than you were; reject it, and you risk becoming less.
To the youth, I say: seek out the strangers of your age—not only those from distant lands, but those whose hearts, ideas, or ways are unlike your own. To the wise, I say: welcome the newcomer with dignity, for you may find in them a mirror of your forgotten self. And to all, I say: remember that you, too, are a stranger in another’s land. Let humility temper your judgment, and let curiosity guide your steps.
Practical action lies before us: travel when you can, but even more, listen. Read voices not your own. Break bread with those whose language stumbles against yours. Stand in the discomfort of difference, for in that soil grows wisdom. Treat each stranger not as a shadow to be feared, but as a bearer of newness, a herald of worlds yet unseen.
Thus Simmel’s words endure like an ancient teaching: the stranger is not a void, but a bridge. To welcome them is to open the gates of growth. To recognize their presence as a positive relation is to honor the endless unfolding of human destiny. And so, let us walk forward, not with suspicion, but with reverence for every interaction that difference brings, for in the stranger we may discover not only the other, but also the greater truth of ourselves.
DMnguyen duy minh
Georg Simmel’s perspective on strangers is thought-provoking. While strangers are often seen as unfamiliar and unsettling, he emphasizes that their existence can be inherently positive. Is it possible that being a stranger gives us a unique opportunity to learn and engage with others in ways that aren’t tainted by pre-existing relationships or assumptions? Could embracing the unfamiliar actually broaden our understanding of society and human connections?
Mmaicongdonghai
It’s fascinating to consider that being a stranger could be a form of interaction in itself. But does this mean that we are more open to new experiences when we encounter strangers, or is it simply a reflection of our natural curiosity? If we approached every encounter with a stranger as a ‘specific form of interaction,’ how might our views on socialization and trust shift? Would we become more open-minded in our daily exchanges?
TTvyn
I find this quote intriguing, especially since it challenges the usual perception of strangers as threats or unknowns. Could this ‘positive relation’ imply that strangers bring a fresh perspective and opportunity for growth? If we are open to the idea of positive interaction with strangers, would we then feel more comfortable embracing diversity and exploring new connections? How often do we overlook this potential by immediately categorizing others as outsiders?
TMTran Minh
This quote really makes me think about the idea of being a stranger. We often see strangers as people to avoid or fear, but Georg Simmel suggests it’s a ‘positive relation.’ Is it possible that being a stranger opens up unique possibilities for interaction? Perhaps the distance created by unfamiliarity allows for more genuine engagement without preconceptions. How might our interactions with strangers be different if we viewed them this way?