On Fickleness and Steadiness: A Philosophical Reflection on Man and Woman
The question of who is more fickle—man or woman—has echoed through centuries of thought, poetry, and social observation. It is a question often asked casually, sometimes judgmentally, but rarely examined deeply. Philosophy, however, invites us to step beyond accusation and enter understanding. When we do so, the question shifts from who is fickle to why fickleness arises at all.
The Nature of Fickleness
Fickleness is not mere change. Change is natural, even necessary. Fickleness is change without anchoring, movement without inner alignment. It is the restlessness of a mind that has not found its centre. In this sense, fickleness is less a moral failing and more a philosophical condition—a symptom of an unintegrated self.
Indian thought calls this chanchalatva—instability born of unchecked desire and untrained attention. Where the mind is pulled outward by novelty, fear, or gratification, constancy weakens.
Why Man Appears More Fickle
Historically and culturally, men have been encouraged to engage the world outwardly—to conquer, acquire, compete, and succeed. Their sense of self has often been tied to external markers: position, recognition, power, or pleasure. When identity rests on what changes, the self too becomes changeable.
Philosophically, this is a life lived predominantly in rajas—movement, ambition, and restlessness. Decisions taken from this state are reactive. Commitments become conditional. Loyalty bends before opportunity.
This is not because men lack depth, but because depth is seldom demanded of them. Escape is often mistaken for freedom, and withdrawal for strength. Thus, fickleness becomes socially tolerated, even subtly rewarded.
Why Woman Appears More Steady
Women, across cultures, have been shaped toward continuity—of family, relationships, memory, and meaning. Their lives have required them to hold rather than move, to endure rather than escape. Emotional investment, once made, is not easily abandoned.
From a philosophical lens, this reflects a greater cultivation of tamas transformed into sthiratā—steadiness. Women are often taught, consciously or unconsciously, to remain with discomfort, to process pain internally, and to preserve bonds even when strained.
This endurance gives rise to the perception of constancy. But it also hides a quiet truth: steadiness is often born of necessity, not choice.
The Silent Danger in Both
Philosophy warns us against romanticising either tendency.
Fickleness, when unexamined, leads to fragmentation—a life scattered across desires, leaving no lasting wisdom. But excessive steadiness can become stagnation—remaining in situations that erode dignity, truth, or selfhood.
The Bhagavad Gītā does not praise immobility; it praises discernment. The wise person knows when to stay and when to withdraw. The tortoise does not keep its limbs withdrawn forever—it does so wisely.
Beyond Gender: The Discipline of the Mind
At its root, this is not a question of man versus woman. It is a question of self-mastery.
A disciplined mind is steady, regardless of gender. An undisciplined mind is fickle, regardless of gender.
Bhakti traditions remind us that unwavering devotion—ananya bhāva—has been embodied by both men and women. Prahlāda’s unshaken faith and Mīrābāi’s unyielding love arise from the same inner source: a mind anchored beyond circumstance.
A Deeper Resolution
Perhaps men appear fickle because movement has been permitted. Perhaps women appear steady because endurance has been expected.
But philosophy asks us to move beyond appearance and ask:
Is the movement aligned with truth?
Is the endurance rooted in wisdom?
True maturity lies not in staying or leaving, but in knowing why.
Fickleness is not masculine. Steadiness is not feminine.
Both are expressions of how the mind relates to desire, fear, and meaning.
When the mind is outward-facing, it scatters. When the mind is inward-rooted, it holds.
The highest human aim, as philosophy quietly teaches, is not constancy for its own sake, nor change for its thrill—but clarity. And clarity, once attained, gives rise to a steadiness that neither clings nor flees.
1. . The Root of Fickleness: The Restless Mind
Bhagavad Gītā 6.34
चञ्चलं हि मनः कृष्ण प्रमाथि बलवद्दृढम् ।
तस्याहं निग्रहं मन्ये वायोरिव सुदुष्करम् ॥
The mind is restless, turbulent, powerful, and obstinate, O Krishna.
I consider its control as difficult as controlling the wind.
Here, Arjuna speaks not as a man, but as humanity itself. Fickleness is not moral weakness—it is the natural condition of an untrained mind. Scripture does not gender restlessness; it universalizes it.
2. Sense-Driven Change and Inner Instability
Bhagavad Gītā 2.60
यततो ह्यपि कौन्तेय पुरुषस्य विपश्चितः ।
इन्द्रियाणि प्रमाथीनि हरन्ति प्रसभं मनः ॥
Even the wise, striving man, O son of Kunti,
is forcibly carried away by the turbulent senses.
This verse quietly dismantles pride. Even wisdom does not guarantee steadiness unless the senses are mastered. What is often labeled as “fickleness” is, in truth, the tyranny of the senses over discernment.
3. The Mark of True Steadiness
Bhagavad Gītā 2.58
यदा संहरते चायं कूर्मोऽङ्गानीव सर्वशः ।
इन्द्रियाणीन्द्रियार्थेभ्यस्तस्य प्रज्ञा प्रतिष्ठिता ॥
When one withdraws the senses from sense-objects,
as a tortoise withdraws its limbs,
then one’s wisdom is firmly established.
Steadiness is not stubbornness. It is selective withdrawal. This verse defines inner maturity—the ability to engage without being enslaved, to step back without fear.
4. Attachment as the Seed of Fickleness
Bhagavad Gītā 2.62–63
ध्यायतो विषयान् पुंसः सङ्गस्तेषूपजायते ।
सङ्गात्सञ्जायते कामः कामात्क्रोधोऽभिजायते ॥
By dwelling on sense-objects, attachment arises;
from attachment, desire;
from desire, anger and delusion…
This is a psychological map. Fickleness is not sudden—it is cultivated slowly through repeated dwelling. A mind that constantly entertains alternatives cannot sustain commitment.
5. Steadiness Defined Beyond Emotion
Bhagavad Gītā 2.56
दुःखेष्वनुद्विग्नमनाः सुखेषु विगतस्पृहः ।
वीतरागभयक्रोधः स्थितधीर्मुनिरुच्यते ॥
One who is not disturbed by sorrow,
who does not crave pleasure,
who is free from attachment, fear, and anger—
such a one is called a person of steady wisdom.
Here steadiness is emotional sovereignty, not suppression. Such a person neither clings nor flees—hence neither fickle nor frozen.
6. The Upaniṣadic Insight: The Inner Charioteer
Kaṭha Upaniṣad 1.3.3–4 (excerpt)
आत्मानं रथिनं विद्धि शरीरं रथमेव तु ।
बुद्धिं तु सारथिं विद्धि मनः प्रग्रहमेव च ॥
Know the Self as the lord of the chariot,
the body as the chariot,
the intellect as the charioteer,
and the mind as the reins.
When the reins are loose, the chariot swerves. Philosophy locates fickleness not in gender or circumstance, but in who holds the reins—desire or discernment.
7. Bhakti’s Highest Ideal: Unwavering Devotion
Bhagavad Gītā 9.22
अनन्याश्चिन्तयन्तो मां ये जनाः पर्युपासते ।
तेषां नित्याभियुक्तानां योगक्षेमं वहाम्यहम् ॥
Those who worship Me with exclusive devotion,
constantly united with Me—
I carry their needs and preserve what they have.
Bhakti presents the antithesis of fickleness—ananya bhāva, one-pointedness. Saints who embodied this ideal include both men and women, dissolving any gendered argument.
8. A Bhakti Echo Nāyaṉmār / Āḻvār spirit – idea-
“Even if You reject me, I shall not leave You;
for where else can this heart go?”
This sentiment, recurring across Āḻvār and Nāyaṉmār hymns, shows that true steadiness arises not from obligation, but from inner recognition.
Scripture teaches us that fickleness is the restlessness of the untamed mind, and steadiness is the fragrance of self-mastery. Neither belongs to man nor woman alone; both belong to the level of inner awakening.
