It is tempting to focus on the next grand effort as an accurate measurement of our true capacity. However, any big moment demands an accumulation of energy that depletes the overall tank. Every transcendental occasion follows a series of less strenuous and significant steps. Yet, every step requires some concentration and effort. An empty tank will result in unlikely stumbles where we expect to flow smoothly.

Every achievement may count as motivation, a burst of energy for what is to come. Nevertheless, the cost of achieving a milestone might be too steep. Thus, each peak we approach demands careful consideration; once conquered, it requires a moment of sober reflection and introspection rather than a series of definitive arguments about how high we can fly.

Great achievements, great efforts

Happy endings can be trite and underwhelming. They can derail otherwise solid storytelling.

Indeed, some of the most impactful literature and television I have consumed have involved stories in which the main characters achieve no success, or whatever goals they reach come at a steep cost.

Yet, mired as we may be in the rut of a rotting social fabric, the odd happy ending is necessary. We should still tell ourselves that change – positive change – is possible.

The odd happy ending

For a long time, most of us in the West thought we lived in an age of reason. The principle is as simple as it is effective: whatever one may believe is subject to rational scrutiny and empirical proof. One may still hold religious or magical beliefs, for we are tolerant here, but one must not impose what isn’t backed by evidence. The entire system was founded on objectivity.

We have taken the system for granted with the zealotry of true believers. It appeared so robust that it had to be the closest anything could ever get to be classed as objective truth. Alas, our fortitude was a mirage, a fortress made of propped-up cardboard panels. While malicious actors stood their ground, it served its purpose. Once they stepped near enough, they saw past the illusion and stormed the castle.

The barbarians’ principle is even more straightforward: truth is whatever we say it is, all evidence is a hoax, and as long as one follows the right person, one can never be wrong.

When truth doesn’t matter, we have a choice to make: we join the looting hoards and hope to survive until the chaos swallows up the last resource, or we go away, huddle in a cave, and start working on the seed of the next age of reason, wishing it to last a little longer than the one currently slipping through our hands.

The next age of reason

Swim or sink. Make or break. These positions, more widespread in our culture than we’d like to admit, are as immediate as they are shortsighted. While the approach will get results (positive and negative) fast and thus enable those in charge to rinse and repeat and feel like progress is ongoing, no resilience can be built into such a system.

In this world of radical individualism, protected by the chassis of disingenuous nationalism, swim-or-sink serves well those without scruples. Squeeze people as much as possible, discard them, and hire the next batch. The most cynical in the land will write articles about how employees are no longer loyal to their employers.

The problem is trust is the fabric of society. Once it’s gone, everything falls apart – rich and poor, skilled and unskilled, privileged and discriminated, we all go down.

Sink or swim

When the solution to a problem appears to be a simple change to how we account for a specific activity, we probably didn’t have a problem at all – at least, not a performance-related one.

Regardless of what the shopping list says, if we bought apples and didn’t cross them out, two things are true: we have apples, and we don’t need to buy any more. There are professions out there focused on convincing people in power that the shopping list is sacred, that it says what it says, that it is what it is.

It is what it isn’t

It is cynical to ask for help from those we rejected unfairly once our choices have been proven wrong.

The management established new policies that alienated critical elements of the team and ultimately pushed them away. Two years later, the same management, without acknowledging their mistake, released an official statement blaming those who left for having done so. Were they not happy with the circumstances? Well, those circumstances have changed now, they argue, so they should return and do their duty.

It would be naive to grant cynics the benefit of the doubt. They mangle the narrative and blame the characters for the dissatisfactory ending of the story they tell us.

Martian Thoughts

Great achievements, great efforts

The odd happy ending

The next age of reason

Sink or swim

It is what it isn’t

Forgiving cynics