Yesterday I had an introductory conversation with a new acquaintance. Discussing aspirations I rattled off my goals of becoming a highly resourceful and knowledgeable HR practitioner, a HR executive and a philanthropist. That I wanted to improve the working conditions in third world countries by establishing a foundation that educates and supplies low to nil cost alternative practices and methods, and that I wanted to establish a foundation for providing business resources and mentoring for LGBT youth with the intention of restoring the self confidence and self worth of individuals, some of which who would otherwise be very competitive business people.

My acquaintance remarked that those aspirations seemed quite “feeling” and that I wasn’t the robot I make out to be. Surprised, I hit the go-to button and started a few lines about it being productive and efficient.

Now that the conversation is over and I can dedicate more thought to introspection, it’s come across as a contrast. I love contrast, in fact, I have an obsession with opposites. Perhaps it’s because many parts of myself are polar opposites. Anyway, the contrast was this:

My perspective on humanity normally swings between apathy and misanthropy. Why is it that my goals are to help society?

Good question. After some thought, the answer is surprisingly simple and elegant: The same reason why I feel misanthropy towards humanity in the first place.


One of the core tenants to who I am as a person and the fibre of my being, is that I despise injustice. I find it revolting. Some of my most disproportionate emotional reactions have stemmed from either experiencing, witnessing or learning about, injustice. Part of me wishes to help alleviate the repercussions of some of these injustices, the other considers that if I were in such a position and did nothing, that I would be unjust in my failure to act. The world is full of people in positions of power who do nothing and I suppose I don’t wish to be one of them.

With that said however, there have been times in my life where if I were presented with a shiny red button connected to a doomsday device, I probably would have pressed it. Not that I would want to commit such a violent act, but to stop them all together. I suppose it would be an opportune moment for one of my close friends would rock up and then ask me “Who are you to make that kind of decision?”, and I would slink back to my cave to ponder, no doubt while they figure out how to deconstruct my DoomCannon TM. Although I doubt I’d call it DoomCannon, more like Penance.

Then again, in another stream of thought. Would it not be unjust to punish everyone, including those who are not to be, for the acts of others? Would that not make me infinitely worse than than the people who commit the acts that I wish to end? Passing such judgement on the rabid, selfish nature of humanity, rarely seen in other species (not in self preservation, but hedonistic), even for the sake of preventing future misery would preclude all possibility of future redemption. A hypothetical destruction of humanity isn’t ending the darkness, it’s removing the light. Where is the contrast I love so dearly, then?

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