If situations are defined as real, their consequences are real
Some phrases seem like simple sociological observations… until you realize they are actually philosophical explosives.
The Thomas theorem is one of them.
It states:
“If people define situations as real, they are real in their consequences.”
At first glance, it sounds obvious.
Almost trivial.
But when examined closely, a far more unsettling idea emerges:
human reality depends not only on what “is,” but also on what we collectively believe is.
And that has enormous implications for creativity.
Creativity as perceived possibility
Before becoming real, an idea is something strange.
It occupies no space.
It cannot be touched.
It has no material consequences yet.
In a sense, an idea is almost unreal.
And yet, some ideas achieve something extraordinary:
they become perceived as possible.
And once that happens, they begin altering real behavior.
Someone invests.
Someone joins.
Someone experiments.
Someone risks.
Little by little, what once seemed absurd starts gaining consistency.
Take something that today feels completely normal: staying in strangers’ homes while traveling.
For a long time, that would have sounded ridiculous—even dangerous.
But enough people eventually defined that possibility as viable, and from that definition emerged Airbnb, transforming tourism, cities, and economies.
Creativity often works exactly this way:
first as shared perception,
only later as tangible reality.
The most fragile moment of every idea
Every creation passes through an extremely delicate moment.
The moment when it does not yet exist…
but already asks for reality.
And something crucial happens there:
creativity needs to be believed.
Not necessarily by millions of people.
Sometimes one is enough.
But someone must behave as if the possibility were real.
Because once something begins to be defined as real, it starts generating real consequences.
Resources.
Movement.
Language.
Desire.
Attention.
Creativity doesn’t only produce objects.
It produces new definitions of possibility.
The theorem’s second impact
But the Thomas theorem has another implication.
A deeply personal one.
Perhaps even more important.
“I’m not creative”
Many people live under a silent definition:
“I’m not creative.”
Sometimes that idea comes from school.
Sometimes from family.
Sometimes from comparison.
But once someone defines themselves this way, they begin acting accordingly.
They avoid trying.
Avoid experimenting.
Avoid playing.
They focus on complying correctly instead of exploring.
And then something tragic happens:
the original definition becomes confirmed.
Not because it was true from the beginning,
but because it organized the person’s behavior.
Defining yourself as creative
Now imagine the opposite.
What happens when someone starts defining themselves as creative?
Not as a genius.
Not as an extraordinary artist.
Simply as someone capable of imagining, testing, connecting, transforming.
They begin acting differently.
They tolerate error more easily.
They allow themselves to play.
They ask questions.
They explore.
And little by little, that definition also becomes real in its consequences.
This is where the theorem becomes profoundly liberating:
“If I define myself as creative, I become creative in my consequences.”
This breaks one of the most damaging traditional ideas:
that creativity is a gift reserved for a few.
Because perhaps creativity is also, to a large extent, a perceptual position.
A definition of oneself.
Creativity as an act of freedom
This is why the theorem connects so powerfully with creativity.
Creating often means acting upon something that does not yet fully exist.
Believing before verifying.
Moving before certainty.
And that requires freedom.
The freedom to define new possibilities.
The freedom to refuse only what already exists.
The freedom to rehearse another reality.
In that sense, all creativity contains something prophetic.
Not because it predicts the future.
But because it helps produce it.
Perhaps that is why ideas matter so much.
And perhaps that is why the way you define yourself matters too.
Because before becoming reality,
many things first exist as perception.
And some of the deepest transformations begin exactly there:
in someone daring to act
as if something impossible were already real.
👉 Explore more creativity-expanding concepts in The Other — The ByBa Library