Risk

Someone I know - who gets to be labelled with the letter S in this post - was told last week by an organisation for whom he's worked for over 10 years that his services will no longer be required because he has become a "risk" and a "liability." The news didn't come as a huge surprise because the organisation - let's call it Suits & Co. - recently went through a complete identity shift. It was bought up by a multi-national conglomerate, it got rid of countless employees and, crucially, it went from being a registered charity to being a profit-making enterprise. S was seen very much as belonging to the 'old school', so he knew it wouldn't be long before his expertise and experience would cease to be appreciated. But when the moment actually came, it was still shocking.

Now, I can't reveal anything about who S is and exactly what Suits & Co. do, so you'll have to trust me that his dismissal was unjust. It was executed in the form of a conference call (what else?) in which he was told that his refusal to toe the line meant that he had to be dropped from the team. Some of S's crimes included: being vocal about the fact that other employees were being mistreated by management and insisting that new, untrained staff shouldn't be allowed to carry out certain duties... duties which have a lasting impact on the futures of thousands of people around the world. I kid you not!

S knows exactly what I think of this whole situation and of his role in Suits & Co.'s past successes, so although part of this post's purpose is to say that I'm very sorry about what's happened, that isn't its entire raison d'etre. No, I'm bringing up his story because it made me wonder how often the good things in the world - the selfless acts, the stoic refusals, the open-minded compromises - come from relatively powerless people fighting to maintain some kind of integrity in the face of oppression from those above them. We continue to expect the most powerful figures in our societies to bring about positive changes even though we're so frequently disappointed by them. Maybe we're just barking up the wrong tree. Aren't power and philanthropy mutually exclusive? The former is self-centred, the latter is not.

Then again, isn't it too simplistic to assert that all people in high positions are power crazy and all those who work for the benefit of others have a relatively low status? After all, there are plenty of admirable, conscientious people who - how does the expression go? - have had greatness thrust upon them through no effort of their own. So where does that leave us?

Honest answer: I don't know. I'm often struck by how most things around us represent a balance - at times, an unlikely balance - of potent, conflicting forces. In my work as a teacher, I frequently think about the fine thread that marks the dividing line between classrooms full of biddable kids and a destructive, 2000-strong rabble of hooligans who realise that, really, no-one can actually make them do anything. Most families function on a precarious construction of give and take and smash and break and rebuild. Even the economy - about which I know next to nothing - appears to be the central point of a vast storm of decisions and repercussions and unexpected occurrences. Maybe the situation with Suits & Co. is just another example of the endless struggle between opposed forces. S managed to put up a strong fight in his corner for years, but ultimately, the war was never going to be winnable. I just hope that somewhere in another corner of the world, some Little Person is smiling because of the tear they've made in the silken lining of an expensive jacket.

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