Picture now to yourself that Fortune is holding a festival, and is showering down honors, riches, and influence upon this mob of mortals; some of these gifts have already been torn to pieces in the hands of those who try to snatch them, others have been divided up by treacherous partnerships, and still others have been seized to the great detriment of those into whose possession they have come.
Certain of these favors have fallen to men while they were absent-minded; others have been lost to their seekers because they were snatching too eagerly for them, and, just because they are greedily seized upon, have been knocked from their hands.
There is not a man among them all, however—even he who has been lucky in the booty which has fallen to him—whose joy in his spoil has lasted until the morrow.
The most sensible man, therefore, as soon as he sees the dole being brought in, runs from the theater; for he knows that one pays a high price for small favors. No one will grapple with him on the way out, or strike him as he departs; the quarreling takes place where the prizes are.
Certain of these favors have fallen to men while they were absent-minded; others have been lost to their seekers because they were snatching too eagerly for them, and, just because they are greedily seized upon, have been knocked from their hands.
There is not a man among them all, however—even he who has been lucky in the booty which has fallen to him—whose joy in his spoil has lasted until the morrow.
The most sensible man, therefore, as soon as he sees the dole being brought in, runs from the theater; for he knows that one pays a high price for small favors. No one will grapple with him on the way out, or strike him as he departs; the quarreling takes place where the prizes are.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 74
I regularly encounter those who like to call themselves realists, though I wonder if they are better described as opportunists. They declare that it if you want to get ahead, you need to play the game, a model of life where character is always bowing to convenience, where integrity is naïve, and guile is sophisticated.
It all depends, of course, on where we perceive the true benefit, and what we are willing to surrender. I see no prudence in gratification, no refinement in mistaking the greater for the lesser. I will respectfully propose that anyone who compromises his conscience is a slave to the circumstances, the weakest of men, not the strongest.
There is no need to play anyone else’s game. If the other boys aren’t playing fair, you retain the option to pick up your ball and go home.
As much as I might believe I can outwit Fortune, she has the upper hand from the moment I agree to her terms. If I can somehow manage to keep a hold of her trinkets, I will soon find them wanting, never as exciting as advertised, but it is far more likely that they will be lost in the scuffle.
The toy looked so much better on television than when you held it in your hands, and then promptly broke once you fought over it with your brothers and sisters. In any case, whatever is left ends up in a box pushed to the back of a closet, and yet the pattern repeats itself for the next birthday party.
You’d think the bitter disappointments of childhood would teach us some important lessons for adulthood, but we sadly only increase the stakes.
If I genuinely have no interest in the bickering, if my convictions are sincere and soundly reasoned, I will have the sense to walk in the other direction. No one will try to stop me, because I possess nothing the squabblers could possibly want. Even if they do take off with my property, I have maintained my dignity, and so I have gotten the better end of the deal.
I regularly encounter those who like to call themselves realists, though I wonder if they are better described as opportunists. They declare that it if you want to get ahead, you need to play the game, a model of life where character is always bowing to convenience, where integrity is naïve, and guile is sophisticated.
It all depends, of course, on where we perceive the true benefit, and what we are willing to surrender. I see no prudence in gratification, no refinement in mistaking the greater for the lesser. I will respectfully propose that anyone who compromises his conscience is a slave to the circumstances, the weakest of men, not the strongest.
There is no need to play anyone else’s game. If the other boys aren’t playing fair, you retain the option to pick up your ball and go home.
As much as I might believe I can outwit Fortune, she has the upper hand from the moment I agree to her terms. If I can somehow manage to keep a hold of her trinkets, I will soon find them wanting, never as exciting as advertised, but it is far more likely that they will be lost in the scuffle.
The toy looked so much better on television than when you held it in your hands, and then promptly broke once you fought over it with your brothers and sisters. In any case, whatever is left ends up in a box pushed to the back of a closet, and yet the pattern repeats itself for the next birthday party.
You’d think the bitter disappointments of childhood would teach us some important lessons for adulthood, but we sadly only increase the stakes.
If I genuinely have no interest in the bickering, if my convictions are sincere and soundly reasoned, I will have the sense to walk in the other direction. No one will try to stop me, because I possess nothing the squabblers could possibly want. Even if they do take off with my property, I have maintained my dignity, and so I have gotten the better end of the deal.
—Reflection written in 10/2013
IMAGE: Taddeo Kuntze, Fortune (1754)
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