It’s strange that the word judgmental is pejorative. Judgment is a necessary part of thought. A woman judges that she would enjoy the shrimp more than the chicken. A child judges that it would be better to do her homework than be punished for not turning it in. A musician with an alcohol use disorder judges it too great a risk to drink the shot of whiskey a fan offers on his break. Technically, it is judgmental to declare that being judgmental is bad.

I know, of course, what sort of judgments the word judgmental condemns. They come from people who advance opinions as if they were handed down from "God"–people who constantly find fault and seem to relish doing so—people who feel their own ideas and behaviors are always right, while other people wallow in foolishness and malfeasance. It’s worth noting, though, that the judgments we call judgmental are more likely to be those we don’t agree with than those we do.

Judgment is not confined to humans. My cat judges Brand A delicious, Brand B uneatable–today. Better to question the judgment, not the right to judge.

To judge without being judgmental requires empathy. If our judgment is negative, this involves experiencing some of the judged person’s pain. Though empathy is, I judge, a good thing and forms the foundation of Judeo-Christian morality—"Do unto others as you would have others do unto you”–it can cause a lot of pain.

Like many kids shopping for Halloween pumpkins and Christmas trees, I felt sad for the less attractive specimens. I was glad my mother didn’t throw away our jack-o’-lanterns but used them to make pumpkin pie. Kid-logic said this was less “mean” than dumping it in the trash. I cried to see our once-beautiful Christmas tree, shedding tinsel and brown needles, lying beside the garbage can with the other discarded trees that lined our street.

As I got older, I learned to tamp down the intensity of these feelings. Excessive and impractical were my dad’s words, and he was right. I had to keep my empathy in check to be a reasonably functional kid. I have to do the same as an adult or burst into tears every time I read a newspaper, pass a homeless person shouting on the street, or disappoint a student with a bad grade.

And then there is the minefield of desire.

My empathy surged today when I saw, on YouTube, a video of a very large woman castigating men as moral miscreants and “fat-phobes” if they did not judge her attractive. Her pain had to be extreme to force her into the humiliating and hopeless position of trying to hector men into wanting her. A video of a trans-woman offering reasons why men should choose her over a biological woman was even more heartbreaking since she wasn’t accusing; she was pleading.

Biology is cruel. The biology of mating is so fiendishly cruel that it may make us feel that our judgments are prejudiced and morally wrong. Sexual attraction may be influenced by culture, in which case protests and complaints might modify it. But maybe it can’t be. It’s certain that once what turns us on has taken hold, it seems immutable. What reputable psychologist would suggest that a man’s drive to have sex with other men can or should be changed?

Grapefruit, to me, tastes almost sweet. To my friend, it’s bitter, unpalatable. Our mouth chemistry is different. No amount of arguing, reasoning, or behavior modification will change that. We have our preferences. Like it or not, we judge.

Any preference for one thing over another can feel cruel, especially when we are what is not preferred. When that happens, we may shut down, grieve, or lash out at the perceived injustice. We may wish to punish those who find us wanting, whether as a pitcher in Little League or a life partner.

I’ve felt that way more than I like to admit. Most writers, even successful ones, frequently offer their work— the awful infinitive is to submit—and get a “No” for their trouble. Proponents of everybody-gets-a-trophy want to spare children the pain of being judged as not good enough. Still, eventually, the world will have its unapologetic say.

The field of psychology has done a lot to foster emotional sensitivity. My training as a psychotherapist stressed helping others discover and express their true feelings, including judgments/preferences that would hurt or anger others. A woman convinced she likes football because her husband does, risks disapproval and rejection by admitting the truth to her husband and herself. A man pressured by his friend to invest with more risk than he is comfortable with may risk the friendship by telling his friend no.

We have a right to our feelings, including our judgments. This is "Intro to Psychotherapy" stuff. Still, it can be easy to find ourselves back in a metaphorical therapy chair, needing to ask ourselves, “How does that make you feel?”

This is especially true when our preferences and judgments, conscious or unconscious, hurt others. We must all develop some degree of emotional armor to make necessary decisions in our world. But we harm ourselves as well as others if we become callous. Faced with the need to accept or reject, praise, ignore, or condemn, I try to acknowledge, to myself, if no one else, when I feel sorry to say no. Called upon to judge, we reinforce our own humanity when we let ourselves feel empathy, even when the feeling brings us pain.