You can't make trust out of anything else .
I actually believe I thought that phrase up. Google never heard of it yet, anyway.
It came to my mind once upon a time, when I was being romantically recultivated by someone who had been seriously dishonest with me. This was someone who could seduce for England*, yet despite the former flame's absolutely championship efforts, there was a great big space. Nothing else could fill it, and the things that once would have driven me mad with joy were meaningless. They felt false, like sitting down at table for a fantastic meal and suddenly being struck with a head cold. No amount of enticement could replace the intimacy of trust. Without it, everything else was ashes.
I've been musing on that idea off and on for a while, most recently when a friend told me a little story. Friend works for a State agency, one of four people in the same senior "rank" position. The Agency is changing its political leadership, and the new folks want to give their friends the senior positions. There are contract questions, so the Agency's new bosses are trying to threaten the four seniors to quit to make room. Loss of pension through demotion, that sort of thing.
So Friend was at a function, and Important Politico, boss of Agency bosses, came over to him. IP told Friend that this was all about getting rid of the other three seniors. They wanted to keep Friend, though, and if Friend would step aside, he'd be hired to a lucrative consultancy doing a job he likes.
"We're cheating and betraying the OTHER people. But we like you, trust us."
My desk neighbour at law school was from Alaska and told me about a saloon up there with a sign over the bar, "WE CHEAT THE OTHER GUY AND PASS THE SAVINGS ON TO YOU".
So, how does one deal with that? Once one enters the realm of trust from that of the arms' length transaction, is there a way out? Can we trust those we see betray others? When one is lied to, how much bribery does it take to buy trust back? Can it ever return?
No point here, just a muse. I'm rather proud of the phrase though, it gets to the point.
Probably should have put this on an emo** blog, but it has general application.
*For my American readers, it's a fairly commonplace British term to denote an Olympic level of skill at and enthusiasm for an ordinary activity. "My mother in law could complain for England."
**emotions. I don't keep a blog devoted to them, but many people do.
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5 comments:
emo blog?
seduce for England?
what are you smoking there staghounds?
Explained above. Smoking nothing, just high on arcane phrases. Thank you for helping me be slightly less obscure.
It came to my mind once upon a time, when I was being romantically recultivated by someone who had been seriously dishonest with me. This was someone who could seduce for England*, yet despite the former flame's absolutely championship efforts, there was a great big space. Nothing else could fill it, and the things that once would have driven me mad with joy were meaningless. They felt false, like sitting down at table for a fantastic meal and suddenly being struck with a head cold. No amount of enticement could replace the intimacy of trust. Without it, everything else was ashes.
Did you ever tell her (or him) your line? And why would you allow your self to be romantically involved with someone who had been as you say, "seriously dishonest with me" Were you encouraging him (or her)?
You talk of intimacy of trust. What do you base trust on? I am curious because your phrase says nothing. Instinct? Love? (or is that the same as physical (I am guessing you call it romantic cultivation)or a person's actions in public? private? And could he (or her) trust you if you were being so led by them when she or he knew that you knew they had been dishonest with you (in love, taxes or job description...whatever).
Poorly written and pointless.
I didn't use the sentence, it didn't become necessary. That was the point I am trying artlessly to make- once trust was gone, there was nothing else there, no foundation for romance. Not even for what would have been a far beyond hot evening.
Anon, you make an interesting point about what it might be like from a dishonest person's perspective- can a deceiver trust someone he has deceived? Perhaps being dishonest in relatioships is a way to prevent intimacy, to be sure that there will always be a barrier. Or could it be that being dishonest is a defence for those who have been deceived?
Maybe it's control- "I'll deceive first, if it works then I'll know I'm the boss."
As to what trust is based on, I don't think it's based on anything. Maybe it exists first, and is proved and strengthened by its daily successful exercise. Like religious faith, or faith in the ropes when one steps off the mountaintop. Believe, verify, repeat. Trust- like love, combat, fear- is sui generis.
I still like honesty, though. My own nature is to trust, because my filters aren't tuned to deception anyway. Professionally of course all I see all day is deception, so I don't like to think it's out there in my own world. But I'd rather trust and be burned than go through life expecting deception.
I'm also terrible AT deception. Good thing I work for truth, I'd be a miserable failure as a defence lawyer.
Interesting that I posted this when I did, I had an interesting conversation Saturday which rang bells with my own history about the OTHER sort of trust. Think I'll poorly and pointlessly write a post about that soon.
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