All for Another

“…the nature of man is such to take as much pleasure in having obliged another as in being obliged himself.” – Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

The longer I gaze into the chaos of our society, the clearer this line becomes, and the more I am left confused. Confused not by the irony of its dichotomy – although it is not entirely lost on me – but rather by the fissures it exposes on the plaque of our intelligence.

Machiavelli, in all his arrogance, had highlighted what seemed to him to be one of our most malleable facets. He does not only make a direct reference to our pathological sense of validation but also impugns any control we may have over it: it is in our nature to seek approval, and hence obeying is a biological tendency. The reward system wired in our brains, quite ironically, allows one’s own importance to be superseded by the priorities of another. We go to war to be deemed loyal citizens and stone the sinners to please God’s men. Possibly developed over centuries of us being social animals, it allows us to overthrow our own principles and beliefs in defence of another’s. It is ironic because it appears to have been built into us only to serve another; it is counterintuitive and hence, self-destructive.

From an evolutionary standpoint, getting the nod from fellow members of the community is arguably the boon to survival: we please to receive. This is evident throughout the animal kingdom across most social hierarchies. The need for approval compels us to conform to rules and standards set, consciously or otherwise, by the mass. This sits well with raw biological survival, but when superimposed with intelligence - or whatever the word that best describes the quality that sets us apart from the rest of Life - the concept of obedience appears to fall on its own sword. It becomes counterintuitive, first and foremost, because of the inevitable realisation that seeking external validation robs us of the concern for our own well-being.

Like the famous epiphany of leaving the cave to see the objects that had been casting the shadows, our intelligence grants us layers upon layers of cognitive wonders that threaten to send old practices toppling, and as we become more inclined to celebrate our accessibility to analytical thinking, the elimination of the age-old need for conformation becomes imperative. In this new context, the obligation we have to heed societal expectations should no longer hold value as insurance of our longevity. However, despite its due functional obsolescence, our ancient pursuit for approval is still alive and kicking, maybe even more so than before. An error seemingly overlooked that has us running in circles, this defect in our intelligence is not just a minor glitch; it may, in fact, be our Achilles’ heel, our self-destruct switch. And as Machiavelli had, unfortunately, pointed out, it can be weaponized.

Our as yet indefatigable thirst for recognition and approval presents an easy target to impose control. With an inability to discern between the do-you-proud pleasure of obliging and the satisfaction of being obliged, our mental reward system is like a shell waiting to be deployed. It blurs the line between the two and renders us incapable of seeing past the sleight of hand. With such a mammoth flaw, anyone can be made to do anyone’s bidding without stopping to consider the repercussions of their actions on themselves. One would kill his own daughter to uphold the integrity of his caste and put himself on the line to defend a nation that would not remember his name. We would work tirelessly into the night and sacrifice invaluable relationships for the momentary recognition of being the employee of the month. It is almost as if our nasty gullibility had been spray-painted silver and gold to look like a virtue that we do not stop to wonder where the stench is coming from.

When pulling back the curtains means having to weigh between personal principles and reputation, it is admittedly easier to pretend to not notice the stink. In their own separate and inevitable ways, both choices lead to individual ruin. I suppose we will have to bear the scourge of this paradox, amongst others. We are perhaps meant to live for another.