FOR WANT OF A NAIL . . .
An old maxim holds that "For want of a nail, the shoe was lost", the shoe . . . the horse, the horse . . . the rider, the rider . . . the battle, until "For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost". I have always taken this maxim to exhort attention to details; small things, small failures, can lead to big consequences. I have been thinking about this often lately. In good times, attention to detail is often viewed as delaying, unnecessary, old-fashioned, stodgy and so forth. People believe that nothing can go wrong so why worry about little things. However, in tougher times, we begin to see problems which could have been avoided by being more careful. We begin to see mistakes which, if avoided, would make peoples' lives better. Then plans begin to receive more scrutiny, our colleagues and friends began to understand how things can go wrong, and attention to details is more easily accepted, even approved.
Having seen several cycles of good times and tough times, I've been searching for a general rule, a level of attention to detail which can be applied successfully in good or bad times, a degree of care which will be acceptable no matter how optimistic the people around us are. (Please understand that this also means a level of care which will not be stultifying, which will not paralyze us, which will not keep us from taking steps to improve our lives and the lives of others.) I've concluded that the right level of care is a mix of judging risk and reward with due concern for our own lives and personas and the lives and personas of others affected by decisions.
In thinking about risk and reward, I try to compare quantum of risk (probability of success or failure) to the potential reward. That is, if the risk is certain to arise, I must anticipate a higher reward to justify my conduct. If the likelihood of experiencing the risk is small, a smaller potential reward may support the effort. But I must also consider the risk in absolute terms: I might conclude that no reward, no matter highly probable, justifies risking my life or risking disgust with my conduct or risking the disapproval of my friends and valued colleagues. For example, a tiny risk of hurting others may keep me from engaging in conduct, no matter how unlikely the risk or how great the reward.
This all sounds easy in theory but in practice these decisions are tremendously difficult, requiring, as they do, predictions as to the future and a real understanding of ourselves and our friends and colleagues. Moreover, we must recognize that the greatest rewards usually follow the greatest risks. I can't make the decisions for others but I can say with some degree of certainty that undergoing this analysis will make you feel better about decisions and, as I always urge, may avoid hurting others. Maybe that's the real key: If we avoid hurting others, we will be careful enough. And don't forget that hurting yourself will hurt others.
2-12-01
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