(The Nationalist, 28 May 1999)
Everyone knows the barroom philosopher who holds forth on the evils of society. He loudly lists the faults and failings of others, making it clear to anyone who isn’t deaf that he’s on the side of right and truth; naturally, he is guilty of none of the faults himself. In case he has missed anyone in his denunciation, he concludes with a well-postured and practised cry of despair: ‘They’re all at it.’ Like Pilate washing his hands, he washes away the sins of others – in a fresh pint of Guinness.
Although we needn’t take our friend in the bar too seriously it is worth examining his statement. Who are “they”? Could it include him? Or you? Or me? As a practical experiment, try pointing an accusing finger at someone. You’ll notice that the other fingers of your hand, except your thumb, are pointed back at yourself.
And are they all at it? Is there not an honest person left in the world? I remember on one occasion talking to a young lad in his late teens who asked me, ‘What’s the definition of an honest man?’ I replied, ‘You tell me. His answer was ‘A fool.’ I hope he didn’t believe it, and I think he didn’t. He was Irish, like myself, and therefore he liked to generalize and exaggerate. We prefer disasters to difficulties any day; why settle for a mere problem when you can have a crisis instead? They’re not all at it; some are.
And what is the ‘it’ that they are all supposed to be at? William Shakespeare can help us out ‘Suspicion haunts the guilty mind,’ he wrote. The faults we most vigorously denounce in others are those we refuse to acknowledge in ourselves. It’s our way of pretending to respond to the nagging voice of conscience while running away from it. Much easier to take the speck out of the other person’s eye than to tackle the beam in our own.
If we were to take our friend the philosopher’s statement at its face value, it would be easy to succumb to despair. And despair is like a whirlpool, which drags us down deeper and deeper in ever narrower and tighter circles until we’re lost. It’s also not far removed from self-pity, a subtle seducer if ever there was one. But put a whirlpool into reverse and you’ve got a fountain, a symbol of life, freshness and cleanliness. It’s not being naïve or childish, but the simple truth, to say that there are honest people in the world; there are those who care about something or someone other than themselves; there are people who look beyond the fast buck, the quick fix, the easy option, and do what is right simply because it’s right.
They’re not all at it – unless you are, are you? If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.