Why Compromise Isn’t Always Safe

We’re told from the time we’re kids that compromise is the mature thing to do. Meet in the middle. Don’t be so rigid. Find the balance. It sounds reasonable, but let’s really sit with that idea. Sometimes the middle ground is not safe, it’s just diluted harm.

Picture this: three glasses on the table. One glass is filled with clean, clear water. Safe. Life-giving. Another glass is filled with poison. Nobody in their right mind would drink it. Then you’ve got a third glass in the middle, the so-called compromise glass. Someone pours water into it, then tips in just a little bit of poison from the other glass. They slide it across the table to you and say, “See? It’s mostly water. Why can’t you just drink this? Why can’t we meet halfway?”

But here’s the truth. That glass is still poisoned. It doesn’t matter that it’s more water than poison, it’s not safe. And that is exactly what happens when someone asks you to compromise on things that should never be compromised.

Think about a relationship. One partner says, “I love you, I’ll take care of you.” That’s the clear water. Then in the same breath they say, “But sometimes I’ll insult you, maybe hit below the belt when I’m angry, but I’ll apologise after.” That’s the poison. When they suggest meeting in the middle, what they really mean is, “You accept a little abuse along with the love.” And just like that, you’re being handed the poisoned glass.

Or imagine parenting. You want to raise your child with respect and honesty. Your co-parent says, “I’ll lie to them if it keeps the peace. You can be honest, I’ll do my part my way.” Meeting halfway in that situation doesn’t give the child balance, it gives them confusion. They grow up learning that sometimes truth is optional, and the harm of that stays with them. That middle glass is still poisoned.

Even at work, you see it. One person says, “We should do this ethically, by the book.” Another says, “Let’s cut a few corners to save time.” The “compromise” ends up being watered-down integrity. The company might not implode right away, but the standard is poisoned, and over time it shows.

The middle ground only makes sense when both positions are safe to begin with. Choosing between who cooks tonight, what movie to watch, or how to decorate the living room? Sure, meet halfway. That’s not poison, that’s just preference. But when one side involves harm, danger, lies, or abuse, then pouring it into the middle glass doesn’t magically make it safe. It contaminates what was once clean.

When you drink from that middle glass long enough, you start convincing yourself it’s fine. You say things like, “It’s not that bad,” or, “It only happens sometimes.” But your body, your mind, your spirit—they all know you’re drinking poison. The erosion might be slow, but it’s happening.

So the next time someone says, “Let’s meet in the middle,” stop and look at what’s being poured into that middle glass. If one of the ingredients is toxic, then there is no safe halfway.

The takeaway? The middle is only safe when both sides are safe. If one side is poison, the middle glass is still poisoned. Love with a little abuse is still abuse. Honesty with a little lie is still a lie. Safety with a little danger is still danger. Don’t let anyone repackage harm as compromise. A pretty glass with mostly water is still deadly if what’s floating in it can kill you.