In discussions of culture, particularly in our polarized social climate, people often fall into two camps: those who focus solely on cultural difference as a form of identity assertion, and those who use culture as a wedge to assert superiority or justify exclusion. Both approaches, though opposite in tone and intent, tend to obscure a vital truth: cultures are not fixed essences, but constructed systems. They are frameworks through which people seek meaning, identity, and community. Acknowledging that these frameworks share striking structural similarities across societies is not cultural erasure—it is an act of deeper engagement, one that opens the door to understanding, solidarity, and cross-cultural empathy.
To say that “cultures are the same at their core” is not to flatten them into a monochrome universalism, nor is it to deny the beauty and specificity of cultural traditions. Rather, it is to assert that cultural difference is built atop a shared human architecture. Rituals, belief systems, kinship structures, artistic expressions, and moral codes differ in form, but the underlying purpose is often the same: to help humans organize meaning in the face of mortality, change, conflict, and uncertainty. The fact that societies around the world have independently developed such systems points to a shared human condition, not cultural redundancy.
Critics may argue that emphasizing sameness risks ignoring historical context, colonial legacies, or power dynamics that shape how cultures develop and interact. This is a valid concern—and one worth serious attention. But to assert cultural similarity is not to erase historical trauma or downplay oppression. It is to ask a more foundational question: what do all cultures, including those wounded or shaped by imperialism, have in common that can be recognized without glossing over injustice? In fact, recognizing the structural similarities among cultures only reinforces the fact that colonization and cultural domination are acts of violence against a shared human impulse—the freedom to create systems of meaning on one’s own terms.
From another angle, there are those who argue that cultures are so radically different that they are incommensurable—that they should be judged by their own internal logic and nothing else. While this position often emerges from a desire to protect marginalized identities, it can inadvertently lead to essentialism, reducing cultures to static, insulated artifacts. Worse, it can foster a sense of tribalism that shuts down dialogue and mutual recognition. By insisting on radical difference, some may unintentionally reinforce the idea that empathy or understanding across cultures is impossible, when in fact, it is necessary. True solidarity does not come from fetishizing difference, but from recognizing where and how our differences are variations on a shared theme.
This perspective does not deny cultural pride or community distinction. People have every right to honor their traditions, histories, languages, and struggles. Cultural preservation and pride are crucial tools for resisting erasure and asserting agency. However, these efforts become stronger—not weaker—when paired with an understanding that our respective cultures, however different they may appear, are not alien to one another. They are built from the same human materials: memory, aspiration, fear, longing, love, and survival.
Calling culture a “social construct” should not be the end of the conversation—it should be the beginning. If culture is constructed, then it can be analyzed, compared, deconstructed, and reimagined. It can be used to build bridges, not just borders. The recognition of core similarities across cultures does not reduce people to sameness. It reveals the shared emotional and intellectual labor of being human. This approach does not dismiss difference. It simply refuses to weaponize it.
The progressive project must be one that centers justice without sacrificing connection; one that defends the right to be different while also affirming the right to be understood. Emphasizing cultural commonality is not a denial of pluralism—it is its foundation. We are not all the same. But we are not all that different either. And it is in that tension, between constructed uniqueness and structural sameness, that the most meaningful conversations about humanity can begin.