‘There is an important distinction there,’ I said. ‘If I can use a personal example, after school my generation had to do two years of military conscription which in Britain was called National Service (originally a wartime phrase coined by Winston Churchill for civilians enlisted in the armed forces and applied by him to the post-war compulsory period). I experienced a strong sense of lack of purpose or meaning in those days filled with drill, cleaning equipment, training exercises, guard duties. History reveals, moreover, that my months guarding the Canal Zone, apparently to protect Britain’s oil supplies, was a complete waste of time. I was not making anything, nor was I meeting the needs of individuals who needed help, like my girlfriend at the time who worked as a nurse for the Save The Children Fund in Jordan’s refugee camps. Deeper reflection on Churchill’s phrase, however, led me to see that one can serve a nation or a society, not just a needy individual neighbour. Moreover, in Milton’s words: They also serve who only stand and wait. In the context of the Cold War and the circumstances of the day – including the levels of knowledge then available – my unchosen profession as a soldier had dignity.’
The young chief executive had been listening intently. ‘One difficulty in the discovery you made while doing National Service goes back to the issue of reciprocity. If the Samaritan whom we call “The Good Samaritan” (the word good doesn’t actually appear in the story) helps the mugged guy out of the ditch and gets him back on his feet, at least he gets thanked. There is a face-to-face, two-way personal relation of giving and receiving…’
‘As Shakespeare wrote: Thanksgiving – the exchequer of the poor.’
‘Yes, but my point is that society or the nation cannot reciprocate in that way. If you drive a train of commuters into London every day, you may be meeting one of society’s needs, but there is no reciprocity from the passengers. It becomes a monetary transaction – you drive the train in return for your wages, while passengers pay the company to be transported in safety and on time from A to B. There is no personal relation, no personal reciprocity, to speak of.’
‘That has to be the case. But, in my analogy of the soldier, the intrinsic fundamental of service is still there, though it is a more impersonal service to the commonwealth, not the personal service to an individual we normally associate with the word. Some soldiers do their work solely for wages – we call them mercenaries – but others are inspired by ideals such as serving the good of their nation or the international community, and prove themselves willing to sacrifice their lives in those causes. Train drivers are no different: a few are mercenaries, but most want to have a sense of making a valued contribution to the needs of society.’
‘One of the fundamentals that underlies the larger design of the TASK, then, is an inherent value of good,’ said the young chief executive. ‘When that sense of higher purpose is lost or absent is when cynicism, apathy or hostility takes over. Mind you, that implicit quality of good may take some teasing out. But if it is not innately there, imprinted within the DNA of the TASK, we are left only with extrinsic goods.’
‘And they are not to be underestimated. To reuse C S Lewis’s metaphor, we should not think less of silver because it is not gold. If there is a necessity for toil – that is, work without mental, emotional or spiritual value – then rewarding or compensating the labourers with extrinsic goods such as money or other material rewards, together with appreciation for undertaking what no one else would voluntarily choose to do, makes their labour palatable and even satisfying. But unless they can see a purpose in it, some good the task necessarily serves, it will be as soul-deadening as turning an endless treadmill in a 19th century prison. For that is the way we are made.’
‘Is good the only value that we should look for?’ the young chief executive enquired.
The Value You Add Comes From
The Values You Hold
Anonymous