Tattva Tales

Anekantavada in Jainism: The Multi-Perspective Truth Powering Modern Minds

Anekantavada concept in Jainism showing multi-perspective thinking on orange background

In a world divided by opinions and cluttered with noise, one timeless Jain principle offers surprising clarity. Anekantavada is the idea that truth is many-sided, layered, and inherently complex and might be the lens we need most today. It challenges the modern tendency to view the world through binary filters: true or false, left or right, my way or the highway. Instead, it invites us into a richer terrain where multiple perspectives not only coexist but are essential to grasping the full picture. In a digital culture obsessed with hot takes and instant judgments, Anekantavada offers a compelling counter-narrative: listen more deeply, observe more patiently, and acknowledge the possibility that your truth is incomplete without others’.

This isn’t just philosophy. It’s practical science, emotional intelligence, and start-up logic rolled into one. In times when polarisation dominates our feeds, and our instinct is to cancel or critique, Anekantavada whispers a radically different approach: co-existence of truths. It helps us bridge echo chambers, reduces cognitive rigidity, and builds what is now call cognitive complexity; the ability to hold competing ideas without short-circuiting. It’s a crucial human skill. Anekantavada is, in many ways, the original mental model for multi-perspective thinking.

At its heart, this concept reflects intellectual humility. It disrupts the ego’s need to be right and replaces it with a discipline to explore. And unlike relativism, which declares that all opinions are equally true, Anekantavada goes a step further: it insists on structured inquiry, reasoned perspective, and deep empathy but not chaos. This is Jainism’s powerful tool which doesn’t discard logic but sharpens it with context.

Let’s decode this ancient idea and why it might just be the operating system your brain and life needs.

Let’s get to the core. Anekantavada translates to “non-one-sidedness” the idea that no single perspective can fully explain reality. This wasn’t just bold 2,500 years ago; it’s revolutionary even today. Think of it like observing a massive dataset from different filters each lens reveals a part, but not the whole. Even today’s smartest AI models evolve only when trained on diverse inputs. Jain thinkers anticipated this long ago: clarity improves as perspectives diversify.

The famous Jain parable of the blind men and the elephant captures this truth perfectly. Each person feels a different part; the trunk, the tusk, the tail and confidently declares what the elephant is. None are lying. Yet none are fully right. This isn’t just a parable; it’s how human perception works. Our beliefs and conclusions are shaped by what we have touched not by the full shape of truth.

Today, with algorithms and recommendation engines shaping what we see, we are often shown only slices of reality repeated back to us. Our certainty grows while our exposure to different viewpoints shrinks. Anekantavada acts like a counterbalance, a reminder that any conclusion we hold is partial, not final. Like a model improving with richer input, our minds sharpen when we welcome other angles.

Instead of treating contradictions as threats, in Jainism they act as signals or indicators. It teaches us to pause, replace snap judgments with layered understanding, and treat disagreement as a clue that something is still unseen. Every new angle is like adding a missing feature to your mental map. That’s why Anekantavada doesn’t aim to simplify truth. It asks us to layer it, to seek the synthesis, not the supremacy of our own view.

In this framework, truth-seeking is not about proving dominance but weaving together perspectives. Jain philosophers even created tools for this, like Syadvada (conditional logic) and Saptabhangi (sevenfold predication), which we will explore next.

The genius of Anekantavada doesn’t end with philosophy. Jain scholars built entire logical frameworks around it. Syadvada, or the theory of conditioned viewpoints, insists that every statement should be qualified with ‘syat’ meaning “from a certain perspective.” So instead of saying, “The glass is empty,” Jain logic says, “From one perspective, the glass appears empty.” This small change helps us see things in context and avoids rigid thinking.

But it goes even deeper with Saptabhangi, the sevenfold prediction model. Here’s how a proposition like “This is true” might be logically evaluated:

It is.
It is not.
It is and is not.
It is indescribable.
It is and is indescribable.
It is not and is indescribable.
It is, is not, and is indescribable.

To a modern mind, this might sound abstract. But in real life, things aren’t always black or white. A decision at work can help one team and create challenges for another. Things can simultaneously be beneficial and harmful, depending on context. A memory can be both joyful and painful, a product feature can be intuitive for one user and frustrating for another. Saptabhangi captures this beautifully. It shows us how truth shifts with context, time, and perspective and how embracing this complexity helps us make wiser, more inclusive choices.

Saptabhangi, then, is a kind of multi-dimensional truth processor. It’s closer to how modern machine learning deals with probabilities and edge cases than to black-and-white logic. It holds contradiction, complexity, and ambiguity without collapsing into confusion. It trains the mind to model reality instead of flattening it.

In modern psychology, cognitive empathy means understanding how someone else sees the world; their thoughts, beliefs, and reactions even if you don’t feel the same way. It’s not about agreeing with them or absorbing their emotions. It’s about recognising that people operate from different mental models, shaped by their own experiences and context.

Anekantavada, the Jain principle of many-sided truth, nurtures this exact ability. It asks us to pause and step out of our own headspace. It teaches us to ask: “What might be true from their side?” This is a radical shift in a world where communication often becomes reactive where we reply before we reflect.

Neuroscience shows that our brains crave coherent stories. We fill in gaps, assign blame, assume motives often based on incomplete information. Anekantavada acts like a mental speed bump. It slows us down just enough to question those assumptions. It helps create a safe mental buffer between what we observe and what we conclude.

Think of it like version control for your thoughts similar to how developers track updates without deleting past iterations. You don’t lock into the first draft of your belief. You stay open to edits, upgrades, and alternatives.

This isn’t about moral relativism. It’s about building deeper insight. That’s why modern fields like design thinking, inclusive education, and even therapy are leaning into frameworks that echo Anekantavada: flexible thinking, layered understanding, and space for multiple realities to exist at once.

Takeaway: Anekantavada isn’t just a belief system. It’s an empathy gym. It trains your brain to step into other perspectives.

In Jain ethics, this is a form of Ahimsa (non-violence). Because insisting “only I am right” can be a form of mental violence.

Cognitive empathy isn’t weakness. It’s strategic compassion. It’s how great leaders de-escalate tensions, how teachers reach students, and how creators design better experiences.

Now let’s zoom out of philosophy and into practice.

If Anekantavada were alive today, it would be on the walls of every product design studio. Why? Because great products aren’t born from singular assumptions they emerge from iterative understanding of user behaviour, context, emotion, and need.

Design thinking, as popularised by IDEO and Stanford design school, begins with empathy not assumptions. It encourages designers to interview users, prototype quickly, test different versions, and integrate feedback from multiple stakeholders. This is Anekantavada in action. A user might say, “This interface is confusing,” while the developer insists, “It’s built logically.” Both are right from different lenses. The solution comes from listening to both and creating a synthesis.

Every product feature, campaign, or interface becomes better when we approach it through many-sided truth. In fact, some of the most successful innovations come from embracing conflicting feedback, not discarding it. Anekantavada isn’t just a virtue here. It’s a competitive advantage.

In a time when building for scale often means building for the average, Anekantavada reminds us that insight lives in the edges the outliers, the contradictions, the fringe use cases. Great designers don’t flatten complexity. They listen to it until a pattern reveals itself.

Takeaway: Anekantavada is baked
into good design. Because good
design isn’t one-sided.
It’s many-sided.

Let’s face it, most conflicts today aren’t about who’s right but they are about whose version gets airtime. From team debates at workplace to personal disagreements, we often assume our view is the whole picture. Anekantavada steps in with a modern upgrade: What if truth isn’t a spotlight, but a mosaic? Each piece matters, but none is complete on its own. It’s less “I’m right, you’re wrong” and more “I see this, you see that what is the full story?” In today’s world, we would call this insight mapping or systems thinking. Jainism was doing it long before whiteboards existed.

Here is where it gets practical. Anekantavada doesn’t ask you to surrender your stance. It nudges you to stretch it. Think of it as a mental design sprint for conflict: pause the debate, gather edge cases, layer viewpoints like transparent slides, and spot new patterns. It’s not passive peacekeeping, it’s active problem-solving. Whether it’s a personal or a workplace disagreement, the smartest move isn’t always to convince. It’s to listen actively, frame better, and seek what is mutually visible but previously unseen. This isn’t compromise. It’s conflict intelligence, Jain-style.

Takeaway: Anekantavada doesn’t
dilute truth. It amplifies it by
including more perspectives.

I used to think clarity came from certainty. But upon reflecting I believe real clarity comes from holding space for “maybe.” When I catch myself reacting to a message, a meeting, a mistake I try to ask: “What version of the story am I missing?” It’s not about giving in. It’s about zooming out.

Sometimes, that question softens my assumptions. Other times, it reveals a blind spot I didn’t know existed. It has helped me in team dynamics, business pivots, and even casual conversations that would have otherwise spiralled into unnecessary friction.

And truthfully? Anekantavada also changed how I see myself. I no longer feel the pressure to be one perfect version of me. I’m a start-up in beta phase still learning, still iterating. That, too, is a kind of truth.

And in today’s world of noise, and constant negotiation, this ancient Jain lens becomes a practical toolkit for everyday clarity. So the next time you are in a tough spot try this one-liner mental model:

“There’s always another angle. What might it be?”

That pause could be the most intelligent thing you do all day.

What’s one area where multiple
truths helped you see better?
Share below or link back if you
write your own story.



  1. Jainism – Multiplicity of Viewpoints in Anekantavada — Wikiquote
  2. Blind Men and an Elephant — Wikipedia
  3. Anekantavada and Its Relevance in Jainism Today — Bahubaleshwar.com
  4. The Psychology of Emotional and Cognitive Empathy — Lesley University
  5. Jina Sutra – Quotations — Jainworld
  6. What Is Design Thinking? — Interaction Design Foundation
  7. Anekāntavāda and Dialogic Identity Construction — Flügel, P. (2019), Religions, 10(12)
  8. Anekantavada and Its Relevance in Today’s World — Digital Jain Pathshala

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