"I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member."

At first blush, this famous quip by Groucho Marx seems a classic example of "the grass is always greener." However, it may contain a far more profound nugget of wisdom.

Among the many ways we divide people into categories, one common grouping is extroverts versus introverts. Extroverts tend to be hypersocial, high-energy and charismatic in their interactions with others, reveling in the dynamism of crowds. Introverts prefer solitude or one-on-one conversation, favoring the quiet exchange of ideas over cocktail party banter.

Of course, few of us fit perfectly into either group. Most individuals possess qualities of both extroversion and introversion, while tilting either one way or the other. Yet both groups have something in common: the desire to belong.

Extroverts might fill their need for human interaction by joining fraternities and sororities; you're more likely to find them at sporting events or clubbing. Introverts, who find themselves easily overstimulated by noise and commotion, may join book clubs or visit yoga studios. The common denominator, however, is a deep yearning for affiliation.

Needless to say, there are exceptions. In his book, "The Gift of Not Belonging: How Outsiders Thrive in a World of Joiners," Dr. Rami Kaminski coins a term for those who defy these classic personality types, which is this week's addition to the Ethical Lexicon:

Otrovert (ot*tro*vert/ ot-truh-vert) noun

A person who feels no sense of belonging to any group.

Unlike introverts, the otrovert may be gregarious and socially adept. Unlike extroverts, the otrovert feels ill at ease in group settings.

According to The Otherness Institute, otroverts often buck consensus, don't function well in teams and cannot fathom collective thinking. They are typically suspicious of rules, customs, and institutions, which may lead them to reject organized religion. They don't care about validation from others, don't ask for or accept advice, and recognize the absurdity of the human condition.

Otroverts are more likely to be freethinkers, unincumbered by peer pressure or the need to toe the party line. They may observe more keenly, make assessments more dispassionately, and resist getting swept away by irrational exuberance or groupthink. They have the strength to stand firm against the majority, challenge the status quo, and speak truth to power.

On the other hand, otroverts can easily become contrarian or iconoclastic, opposing the status quo and rejecting convention because they refuse to subjugate themselves to the collective even when the collective is right. Their natural aversion to herd mentality may drive them to overcompensate in the direction of reflexive isolation.

When you think about it, there's something ironic, even comical, about imposing a label on the very people who reject group identity. But that itself suggests an illuminating paradox.

The human condition is defined by unceasing tension between the individual and the collective. We are lonely people, trapped inside our own skins and our own minds. We are simultaneously communal creatures who depend on one another to fulfill our material and psychological needs.

By overemphasizing the communal, we end up promoting national or ideological tribalism, which leads to conflict and often violence. By overvaluing individualism, we end up with anarchy and chaos.

A reasonable measure of otroversion can help us harness and channel that tension. We can, and should, question authority without rejecting authority. We need to recognize the limitations of institutions without seeking to burn them to the ground.

As the sages teach: Pray for the welfare of the government, for without it, man would swallow his fellow alive. A bad system is better than no system. But that doesn't exempt us from seeking to continuously improve it.

Trying to eliminate tension from your life is a fool's errand. Instead, embrace the tension. By doing so, you will discover the profound truth of the poet Rabindranath Tagore's beautiful allegory:

"I have on my table a violin string.

It is free to move in any direction I like.

If I twist one end, it responds; it is free.

But it is not free to sing.

So I take it and fix it into my violin.

I bind it, and when it is bound, it is free for the first time to sing."

See more by Yonason Goldson and features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists; visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: Al Elmes at Unsplash