Previously, I debated whether I should tell you if I think you’re wrong about something. Then I pondered the difficulties of trying to tell you when you have so many erroneous and pre-conceived notions. I had already written a piece on the dishonesty of not responding to proof, and seeing that you didn’t heed that, I wrote a new piece (tongue-in-cheek), condemning your attempts to be criticism proof. But still, you were silent. So I wrote a piece showing how your silence tells me that you do not care. Still nothing from you, however.
So now I’m pondering whether to make a pointed assault on your character. Would I simply be wasting my time, or could it be that a sharp rebuke about your apathy and dishonesty might just bring you to your senses?
I could decide, of course, without any real way of knowing ahead of time, that it’s simply hopeless and that you are beyond correction. But the moment I do that, I’ve assigned you (as far as I know) to a life of apathy and dishonesty, for who else will set you straight if I don’t?
But knowing how people are, it’s reasonable to assume that you will come to hate me if I challenge your low character and try to inspire you to aim higher. Whereas you may currently find me merely “odd” or “annoying”, and may be scratching your head as to what to make of me, if I oppose you to your face and tell you about the corruption of your character, you may very likely come to hate me for it. And what are the chances that you’ll ever come to thank me for it someday?
Hmm. Such a dilemma! It was hard enough to decide to mention it in the first place, and now your apathy not only disappoints but presents the opportunity to consider taking an even greater risk. Sure, I could just decide to be offended at your corruption—to be mad at you because you didn’t listen—or to write you off as a lost cause. But what if I have a greater vision than that for you? What if I can imagine you becoming an honest, conscientious, and responsible person if only that hardened shell of yours can be penetrated in order to get the attention that this topic rightly deserves?
I am told that CPR can break a few ribs, as can the Heimlich Maneuver. I’m also told that waking a sleepwalking person can be hazardous to your own health, as can trying to rescue a drowning person or trying to reason with a “mean drunk”. Given your unwillingness to be corrected so far, perhaps there’s every reason to believe that you’ll harden yourself even more and lash out at me if I should press the issue.
But I don’t like the idea of you spending the rest of your life as a jerk. No, I have a better vision for you than that.
On the one hand, it seems a natural kindness to continue to try to help you. And on the other hand, it seems quite risky.
What should I do?
Others have rebuked me, and I came out the better man for it. Is there hope for you, too? Will you listen?
I know that no man should have to rescue another to sound thinking. In a perfect world, everyone would already have a healthy paradigm of rationality and responsibility. But this is not a perfect world, and a great many people have thought themselves into a quagmire and then stopped thinking altogether about certain things, leaving themselves no hope of finding a way out.
I suppose this could be a question of whether to rescue someone who is unwilling to be rescued, but it’s a little more complicated than that, for what I’m really contemplating is whether I can convince you to become willing. It seems to me that everybody is given a moral compass at birth, so it’s not that you can’t do this math; it’s whether you are willing to do it. Indeed, I have changed in a great many ways, so how could I possibly determine that it’s impossible for you to change?
So should I leave you alone to be a jerk? Or should I risk getting further involved and pushing you to become either an angry jerk or a rational, honest, and responsible person?
Jack
