Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?
Good question. Among other things, the opportunity to answer such a question means that the good fortune of a certain amount of freedom exists. How one answers it in any situation reveals a great deal, but it seems to me that those who would rather be right than happy are more likely, in real life, to be neither.
Several years ago, a longtime good friend known for strident opinions and a dissolute lifestyle he thoroughly and unabashadly enjoys, coupled with a propensity toward thin skin when it comes to criticism or even honest discussion about those opinions or personal lifestyle choices, decided to write a long, rambling tribute to them. Though he is not an accomplished writer and fully understands that I do not approve of his lifestyle nor share his opinions on many things, he was clearly proud of his efforts and sent the manuscript to me asking for my comments.
I complied.
My friend was not pleased with my analysis of his work and became a little unhinged about it. I was not surprised by the former, but had not anticipated the latter. And he was not to be mollified by the line of reasoning that he had asked for my commentary and I had, honestly, given it, which I would not have done had he not requested it. Be careful what you ask for. As all writers know, or at least eventually learn, criticism goes with the turf.
Our exchanges on the matter soon deteriorated into a distinct possibility that a cherished friendship of many years was going to come undone, a prospect that did not make either of us happy. In his mind, he was right, while I only had an opinion.
My old friend complained about the situation to a mutual good friend to both of us. After listening to the grievances of our friend of strident opinions, thin skin and dissolute lifestyle, our mutual friend asked, "Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?"
It is a profound question, a nice way of asking someone to lighten up.
That's all it took in this small, personal matter for a relationship to move forward instead of dying, to flourish instead of becoming a source of bitterness, to create the fluidity of living satisfaction and relationship instead of the dead right that is so often written in stone. I am enormously grateful to our mutual friend for posing such a question and to my old friend for choosing happiness.
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It was the first time I had heard that question, but it comes to mind often when thinking about the things people do, why they do them and what they mean. The question is one with far-reaching implications in matters more significant than resolving the differences that all friends have. The "being right" answer to it can take extreme, absurd and, of course, violent and tragic dimensions.
I have another old friend who was born into more money than he could reasonably spend in a couple of lifetimes, and for many years he very much enjoyed his good fortune and life. Then, for some reason that always escapes me, he got caught up in some form of the tax protester movement involving the 16th Amendment to the Constitution and decided he no longer needed to or was going to pay taxes. He did not try to avoid paying taxes by manipulating the system and outwitting the government, the way so many successful businesspersons and corporations do. Instead, he openly defied the government because, in his mind, taxes were wrong and he was right to not pay them. And, most important, he would rather be right. Needless to say, the IRS was not about to allow him to tell them to stuff it. Within a few years, he had done some jail time and his good fortune (both financial and lifestyle) had moved on (along with his wife) to happier pastures, leaving him bitter and unhappy and isolated. In his mind he was right, but the last I heard he was definitely not happy.
Less than two weeks ago, a man in Texas named Joe Stack gave his answer to the question when he torched his house and then flew his plane into a seven-story building housing the IRS, killing himself and an IRS employee, seriously injuring several others and causing millions of dollars worth of damage to the building, which will be paid for by other people's taxes. In a manifesto he posted online just before his suicide/homicide flight, he wrote, "Violence is not only the answer, it is the only answer."
His violent act was the culmination of the process of his decision that the disintegration of his own life had been caused by corrupt politicians and the corrupt government they run, particularly the IRS. Everyone knows or at least knows of corrupt politicians and instances of government corruption because of them, and everyone smiles at the old adage, "The only certainties are death and taxes." But, unfortunately, tellingly, really stupidly and just as unhappily, too many people (including the suicide/homicide's daughter) have referred to the pilot as a "hero."
Only those who would rather be right than happy could possibly see heroism in suicide, homicide and violence as the only answer.
Too bad Joe didn't have a good friend to ask him, "Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?"
It is a good question to ask ourselves from time to time, and even to ask those who would destroy the world for an idea or a perceived grievance.
Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?
