Sometimes you just have one of those weeks when you wonder why evolutionarily hubris was not naturally selected out. The Greeks certainly thought, wrote, and performed about it. It seems it was one of their main preoccupations. If their plays are anything to go by, we should know better by now.
Nothing good comes from excessive hubris.
Yet, the modern human, especially someone who insecurely holds on to power that resulted from mere circumstances of chance, often appears unbothered by the lessons of the past. They personify hubris like their life depends on it. They come to chess matches hoping to apply the rules of checkers. Bloodshed, figurative of course, appears certain. Yet, they persist.
It has made me wonder: why?
Are they unaware of the vast scholarship within diverse schools of thought over the idea of impermanence? Of a limited lifespan? Of precious time that should be cherished by caring for others over oneself? Does the hubris stem from something beyond insecurity? Is it linked to a character flaw, a personality weakness, or a mental disorder? Could it be alleviated? Why hold on to something that will eat you alive from the inside out? Is the poisonous nature of hubris not clearly obvious to the illiterate?
Perhaps hubris blinds. It cannot see. It feels threatened. It attacks blindly.
James Baldwin once wrote, “But for power truly to feel itself menaced, it must somehow sense itself in the presence of another power — or, more accurately, an energy — which it has not known how to define and therefore does not really know how to control.”
Maybe it is hubris confronting humility, an energy it has not known how to define and cannot control, that has so shaken the walls of power.
Time will tell how the game ends. Until then, let’s hope at some point the illiterate learn history’s lessons about hubris.