I want all of you to answer honestly: If your life or that of your loved one was threatened, would you change your political/personal/ideological beliefs and publicly take a U-turn? What about a specific quantum of money that would make you switch?
No, I am not planning to take one (a U-turn, I mean, not a specific quantum of money, even if it were to be offered!). No, there is no clear and present danger to my being or my family’s existence or health. No, no one has offered me a vulgarly large amount to about-face. I am not that important, to be perfectly honest. I am asking this to try and get into the mind of a turncoat and see where it takes me logically. At what amount of greed or fear is your own tipping point?
Please don’t say never. There is no never. The one thing I’ve learnt is that everyone has a price. No, let me correct that. Almost everyone. There are very very very few superheroes. Most of them are immediately dragged down, beaten, and live through the balance of their lives suffering the consequences. Very very few of them are remembered, and mostly by only a few others. And maybe a handful of them go on to become icons of resistance, or whatever you wish to call it at a later date, hindsight being what it is.
This reminds me of the sort of trolley problem (not exactly, but close) Baba and I discussed in the aftermath of 9/11 when cockpit doors were reinforced, locks were made mandatory, there was a camera installed for the pilot to see who was outside, and many rules about who is and who is not allowed inside the cockpit were being contemplated and discussed in the aviation community.
Remember, before that, the captain, being the supreme commander once the aircraft doors closed, had the complete authority to decide who was allowed in, which meant many passengers in those days (at least in the higher classes and those who knew the pilot or were from that community) had been inside and enjoyed sitting in the rear (supernumerary) seat. Personally, I have witnessed sunrises and sunsets, take-offs and landings, starry nights and turbulence, clouds and thunderstorms, calm seas and choppy waters, passed over mountains and deserts, seen lakes and water bodies glimmering in the sun and cities spread as far as the eye could see. Indeed, I have been very fortunate. But this post isn’t about any of that (sorry, I got carried away…as usual).
So, back to the discussion. I thought it was a fairly simple solution: lock the doors and do not let anyone in, regardless of circumstance. Baba decided to test me and so asked me what I’d do as the captain should the terrorists who had taken control of the passenger cabin take a hostage and threaten to kill them if you do not open the door. My answer (I was a young man in my late 20s) was that it does not matter. If I have 250 passengers and one or two must die to save the rest, so be it. Because opening the door is like killing them all. I even remember telling him how the hero in any movie’s climax scene laying down his gun because the villain’s got a hostage is such a stupid move, and opening the cockpit door is akin to that, except this won’t be just a movie.
He smiled and asked me what if the person being held hostage was my best friend, or him (my father), or my mother, brother, wife, or child. What about if it was the smartest human or Earth? Or the greatest artist? Or someone whose life, objectively might be worth 250 souls? Then, would I open the door, or do I still think that sacrificing one life is kosher? It was an interesting conversation. We arrived at no answers. But it did get me thinking about so many things. Especially about how far I can take my morals, my integrity, and my principles. And still be able to protect those I love.
What do you think? Do you have a breaking point? No, don’t tell me or put it down here. The idea of this post is to get you to think. And to acknowledge that you have one, like everyone else. Unless you are superhuman. Which, given that you are my friend/contact on social media like LinkedIn or Facebook (why else are you here?), and mostly quite like me in more ways than you’d care to agree, chances are you aren’t.
And once you know that number or that point at which you will compromise on everything, look in the mirror. And be humble.
