Almost twenty years ago I wrote a short story (Rezin’s Ratio) that I considered a tongue-in-cheek fantasy. The premise was to establish a numerical basis for a person’s career standing, a success index, as it were.
As Roger Rezin, the protagonist, put it:
“I will figure out ways to tick people off and see what happens. I’ll divide the amount of time it took me to get to where I am, wherever the heck that is, by the amount of time it takes me to destroy my career.” The higher the ratio (quicker destruction time relative to building time), the weaker the career.
For example, a positive career reputation – the extent of respect – that took ten years to build that could be destroyed in one hour would be a much weaker career than if it took a year to destroy.
In quantitative terms: Success Index = Time Building Reputation/Time Destroying It. High Success Index, weak career; low Success Index, strong career.
After a twenty-year, award-winning career, Roger set off to see how long it would take to destroy his career. He insulted his peers, had tantrums at panels that were evaluating grants, skipped scheduled meetings and the like.
What happened surprised even me – the author. His colleagues kept finding excuses for Roger’s outrageous behavior. They didn’t want to admit they may have made a mistake in judging him in the past. “He must be having personal difficulties,” they speculated, “possibly with his wife or children. Let’s boost his morale and give him ‘teacher of the year award’.” It didn’t change much. Then, Roger was invited to give prestigious lectures to show they still respected him, yet he insulted the organizations that honored him. Still, his colleagues tried to mollify him. When nothing made Roger more civil, the possibility was raised that he had a serious illness, so the dean gave him some additional vacation time to rest and be with his family. And so on.
The story ends with Roger in his office receiving a telephone call from Stockholm.
“Congratulations,” the caller said, “I am honored to inform you that this morning…”
Yes! The Noble Prize.
“Finally,” Roger thought, and he left his office in a very fine mood.
The last thing I imagined when I wrote this cynical tale of fiction is that many years later the story wouldn’t be fiction. How wrong I was. We are living in Roger Rezin’s twisted world.
Donald Trump has insulted his way to the top. After all, a billionaire, successful business man must be brilliant. Everyone will profit if he cares for us. During the presidential campaign he said he could stand in the middle of fifth avenue, shoot people and still they would vote for him. He was right. With every rude slur, supporters liked him more; with every obnoxious statement, his popularity seemed to rise.
Maybe, just maybe, the time he spends destroying will decrease before the next election. Maybe his success index will rise high enough to fail.
But then I think of Roger, and I’m worried.
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