In my business, people don't discuss hypotheticals. Athletes, coaches, general managers, etc. generally refuse to answer questions about hypothetical situations. For example, if a reporter were to ask Albert Pujols whether or not he would sign with the Chicago Cubs in the off-season if they offered him a 10-year $300 million dollar contract he would not answer it. He would most likely say something to the effect of, "That's the last thing that's on my mind right now. My only focus is helping this team win baseball games."
The interesting thing is that hyptothetical questions make sports much more exciting. They often spurn debate and drive sports talk radio. People love speculating and hearing other speculate. For example, will Chris Paul opt out in the summer of 2012 and sign with the Knicks? Will Dwight Howard leave Orlando for the Lakers just like Shaquille O'Neal did?
Hypothetical questions, as unlikely as they are, also make life more interesting. Case in point, I just finished reading a book titled, "Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas". Klosterman, in case you don't know already, is a renowned writer in the world of popular culture. He mostly writes about rock music, musicians, athletes, trends, movies, and television shows. I wouldn't call his work academic, but it's not just "I like this movie" or "I don't like this TV show and here's why". He likes to contextualize pop culture and decipher it's larger meaning or purpose. If that confused you, don't feel bad. Half of his ideas confuse me too. They do offer a different way to look at things that we generally take for granted as purely entertainment, though, and that's why I like reading Klosterman's work.
"Chuck Klosterman IV" is a lot like Malcolm Gladwell's "What the Dog Saw" in that it's a collection of his past works. Klosterman presents a bunch of articles on various topics that he's written for different publications and provides a bit of background on each particular work. How he stumbled into the assignment, what he thought of the subject he interviewed, whether or not he liked the particular article, or a hypothetical situation that ostensibly relates to the article.
Now it is the hypothetical situations that ostensibly relate to his articles that interested me the most. More often than not I didn't exactly see the parallel between the hypothetical and the article, but because I did understand a few of them I assume they were all tied together in this manner (there's a 100 page portion of the book that introduces each article with a hypothetical). These seemingly abstract questions were both intriguing and thought provoking. Below are 10 of the approximately 15 chapters/articles that began this way. After each I will do my best to answer the question that is posed.
1.) You are given the chance to control what your legacy will be. You can’t specifically dictate how you will be recalled by future generations, but you are given the chance to choose between two general idioms of legacies.
The first kind of legacy (“option A”) would be that you lived your days as a good, honest person who worked hard and contributed to society. However, the limitation of this legacy will be that almost no one will know or remember this information (including future members of your own extended family). Most average people will never even know that you lived. The second kind of legacy (“option B”) will be familiar to almost everyone in the world for centuries to come. However, this legacy will be extremely strange and neutral; it will be an obscure fact that has almost nothing to do with your tangible day-to-day life (the best comparison being the legacy of General Tso Tsungtang, an extremely gifted and successful military leader during the seventeenth-century Qing Dynasty who is now exclusively remembered as the namesake for the popular Chinese dish General Tso’s chicken).
Which legacy do you want?
My answer: Ultimately I think this is a question about vanity. I think most people want to be remembered after they're dead and gone even if it's for something "strange and neutral". That said, I think the more popular answer is "option A" and I'd probably play it safe and say that even though I love General Tso's chicken.
2.) Think of someone who is your friend (do not select your best friend, but make sure the person is someone you would classify as “considerably more than an acquaintance”).
This friend is going to be attacked by a grizzly bear.
Now this person will survive this bear attack; that is guaranteed. There is a 100 percent chance that your friend will live. However, the extent of his injuries is unknown; he might receive nothing but a few superficial scratches, but he also might lose a limb (or multiple limbs). He might recover completely in twenty-four hours with nothing but a great story, or he might spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
Somehow, you have the ability to stop this attack from happening. You can magically save your friend from the bear. But his (or her) salvation will come at a peculiar price. If you choose to stop the bear, it will always rain. For the rest of your life, wherever you go, it will be raining. Sometimes it will pour and sometimes it will drizzle-but it will never not be raining. But it won’t rain over the totality of the earth, nor will the hydrological cycle be disrupted; these storm clouds will be isolated, and they will focus entirely on your specific whereabouts. You will never see the sun again.
Do you stop the bear and accept a lifetime of rain?
My answer: Absolutely not (and I won't tell you the name of the friend I was thinking of). Call me a bad friend if you want, but I hattte rain. I couldn't imagine having all of my future softball games, golfing events, and vacations rained out. I guess the best case scenario would be to move to Ireland and accept the rain everyday, but I don't think that I could do it.
3.) You work in an office, performing a job you find satisfying (and which compensates you adequately). The company that employs you is suddenly purchased by an eccentric millionaire who plans to immediately raise each person’s salary by 5 percent and extend an extra week of vacation to all full-time employees.
However, this new owner intends to enforce a somewhat radical dress code: every day, men will have to wear tuxedos, tails, and top hats (during summer months, male employees will be allowed to wear gray three-piece suits on “casual Fridays”). Women must exclusively work in formal wear, preferably ball gowns or prom dresses. Each employee will be given an annual $500 stipend to purchase necessary garments, but that money can only be spent on work-related clothing.
The new regime starts in three months.
Do you seek employment elsewhere?
My answer: No, not immediately. I would definitely give this a chance. Who doesn't like to get all spiffed up? And I think I could get used to female co-workers in ball gowns and prom dresses. If this became an issue, and after a few months it might, I would begin looking elsewhere.
4.) At the age of thirty, you suffer a blow to the skull. The head trauma leaves you with a rare form of partial amnesia−though you are otherwise fine, you’re completely missing five years from your life. You have no memory of anything that happened between the ages of twenty-three and twenty-eight. That period of your life is completely gone; you have no recollection of anything that occurred during that five-year gap.
You are told by friends and family that−when you were twenty-five−you (supposedly) became close friends with someone you met on the street. You possess numerous photos of you and this person, and everyone in your life insists that this individual was your best friend for over two years. You were (allegedly) inseparable. In fact, you find several old letters and e-mails from this person that vaguely indicate you may have even shared a brief romantic relationship. But something happened between you and this individual when you were twenty-seven, and the friendship abruptly ended (and−apparently−you never told anyone what caused this schism, so it remains a mystery to all). The friend moved away soon after the incident, wholly disappearing from your day-to-day life. But you have no memory of any of this. Within the context of your own mind, this person never even existed. There is tangible proof that you deeply loved this friend, but−whenever you look at their photograph−all you see is a stranger.
Six weeks after your accident, you are informed that this person has suddenly died.
How sad do you feel?
My answer: Initially, no, but eventually I would definitely feel sad. I'd be sad that I would never know what this friendship was like and what caused the schism.
5.) You have been wrongly accused of a horrific crime. Due to a bizarre collision of unfortunate circumstances and insane coincidences, it appears that you have murdered a prominent U.S. Senator, his beautiful young wife, and both of their infant children. Now, you did not do this, but you are indicted and brought to trial.
Predictably, the criminal proceedings are a national sensation (on par with the 1994 O.J. Simpson trial). It’s on television constantly, and it’s the lead story in most newspapers for almost a year. The prosecuting attorney is a charming genius; sadly, your defense team lacks creativity and panache. To make matters worse, the jury is a collection of easily confused sheep. You are found guilty and sentenced to four consecutive life terms with virtually no hope for parole (and−since there were no procedural mistakes during the proceedings−an appeal is hopeless).
This being the case you are (obviously) disappointed.
However, as you leave the courtroom (and in the days immediately following the verdict), something becomes clear: the “court of public opinion” has overwhelmingly found you innocent. Over 95% percent of the country believes you are not guilty. Noted media personalities have declared this scenario “the ultimate legal tragedy.” So you are going to spend the rest of your life amidst the general population of a maximum-security prison . . . but you are innocent, and everyone seems to know this.
Does this knowledge make you feel (a) better (b) no different, or (c) worse?
My answer: Maybe this is a cop out, but I would say that this would make me feel simultaneously better and worse. Better because the overhwelmingly majority would be on my side, but worse because there's nothing that anyone can do about it. Also, did anyone else notice that this is kind of the reverse of what happened to O.J.? Maybe that was the whole point.
6.) You are offered a Brain Pill. If you swallow this pill, you will become 10 percent more intelligent than you currently are; you will be more adept at reading comprehension, logic, and critical thinking. However, to all other people you know (and to all future people you meet), you will seem 20 percent less intelligent. In other words, you will immediately become smarter, but the rest of the world will perceive you as dumber (and there is no way you can ever alter the universality of that perception).
Do you take this pill?
My answer: No way. It's sad really, but perception (how competent people think you are) is a lot more important than reality (how competent you actually are).
7.) You begin watching a new television series, and you immediately find yourself strongly relating to one of the supporting characters. You’ve never before experienced a TV character that seems so similar to yourself; this fictional person dresses, behaves, and talks exactly like you. And−slowly, over the course of several episodes−the similarity grows spooky; on two separate occasions, the character recounts personal anecdotes that happened in your real life. The actor portraying this character begins mimicking your mannerisms. In at least three different episodes, the character’s dialogue quotes things you’ve said (verbatim) during casual conversation.
You become convinced that this is neither coincidence nor mental illness: somehow, this character is being actively based on your life. The show’s writers generally depict the “you” character in a positive manner, but−as far you can tell−you don’t know anyone involved in the show’s production or creation. It’s totally inexplicable.
You have two friends who also watch this show. One of them is certain that your theory is correct and that (somehow) the character is, in fact, based on your life. She tells you to get a lawyer. The second friend concedes that many of the similarities are amazing, but that the whole notion is ridiculous, impossible, and egocentric. He tells you to see a therapist.
How do you respond to this situation? Do you do anything?
My answer: What I find most interesting about this question is that most people generally like to think that this happens to them all of the time. Either a character acts just like them, a movie should be made about their life (Truman Show style), or a song completely sums up their feelings for a particular person or sitatuation and it was almost as if the artist wrote it for them. That said, this seems like enough evidence to go on to do something. I'd like to speak to the writers/creator to see how they came up with this particular character. If the only way to do that was to hire a lawyer I guess I'd do that, but I wouldn't want to sue for any compensation. I'd be much more interested in where they got the idea for this particular character than I would be in somehow capitalizing financially on this.
8.) You are placed in the unenviable position of having to compete for the right to stay alive. You will be matched against a person of your own gender in a series of five events−an 800-meter run, a game of Scrabble, a three-round boxing match, a debate over the legalization of late-term abortion (scored and officiated by reputable collegiate judges), and the math portion of the SAT.
In order to survive, you must win three of these events (your opponent will be playing for his or her life as well). However, you (kind of) get to pick your opponent: you can either (a) compete against a person selected at random, or (b) you can compete against someone who is exactly like you. If selected at random, the individual could be of any age or skill level−he/she might be an infant with Down syndrome, but he/she might also be an Academic All-American linebacker from Notre Dame. If you pick “the average human,” he/she will be precisely your age and will have an identical level of education, and the person will be a perfect cross-section of your particular demographic−he/she will be of average height and of average weight, with a standard IQ and the most normative life experience imaginable.
So whom do you select? Or−perhaps more accurately−do you feel that you are better than an average version of yourself?
My answer: First things first, I think I'd be pretty confident either way. I'm faster than the average male my age, I'm a pretty good Scrabble player, I'm confident in my pro-choice argument, and I got a 740 on the math portion of the SAT. That said, I think I'd pick the random because my odds would be better that I'd get someone from 0-16 or 65-80. If that were the case I would dominate all 5 events against the young person and at least the race and boxing match against the elderly person. I'd take my chances at beating the elderly person in Scrabble, debate, or the math portion of the SAT. I think taking an average version of myself is a much bigger risk because that way no event is an automatic win.
9.) It is 1933. You are in Berlin, Germany. Somehow, you find yourself in a position where you can effortlessly steal Adolf Hitler’s wallet. This theft will not affect Hitler’s rise to power, the nature of World War II, or the Holocaust. There is no important identification in the wallet, but the act will cost Hitler forty Reichsmarks and completely ruin his evening. You do not need the money. The odds that you will be caught committing this crime are less than 2 percent.
Are you ethically obligated to steal Hitler’s wallet?
My answer: Yes, no questions asked. The impulse for vengeance in that moment (as small as it might be) would be much more powerful than the notion of treating your neighbor how you want to be treated.
10.) While traveling on business, your spouse (whom you love) is involved in a plane crash over the Pacific Ocean. It is assumed that everyone onboard has died. For the next seven months, you quietly mourn. But then the unbelievable happens: it turns out your spouse has survived. He/She managed to swim to a desert island, where he/she lived in relative comfort with one other survivor (they miraculously located most of the airfcraft’s supplies on the beach, and the island itself was filled with ample food sources). Against all odds, they have just been discovered by a Fijian fishing boat.
The two survivors return home via a helicopter, greeted by the public as media sensations. Immediately upon their arrival, there is an international press conference. And during this press conference, you cannot help but notice how sexy the other survivor is; physically he/she perfectly embodies the type of person your mate is normally attracted to. Moreover, the intensity of the event has clearly galvanized a relationship between the two crash victims: they spend most of the interview explaining how they could not have survived without the other person’s presence. They explain how they passed the time by telling anecdotes from their respective lives, and both admit to having virtually given up on the possibility for rescue. At the end of the press conference, the two survivors share a tearful good-bye hug. It’s extremely emotional.
After the press conference, you are finally reunited with your spouse. He/She embraces you warmly and kisses you deeply.
How long do you wait before asking if he/she was ever unfaithful to you on this island? Do you never ask? And if you mate’s answer is “yes,” would that (under these specific circumstances) be acceptable?
My answer: I would never ask (it just doesn't seem right), but if my wife admitted that she did I would deem the act acceptable under the extreme circumstances.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
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