The pouch of figs I purchased from the supermarket has a warning sticker on the back, where hardly anyone will find it, advising that it contains chemicals found by the State of California to cause cancer and birth defects. There are only three ingredients: figs, water, and a preservative. I have not bothered to investigate further this claim of possible physical harm, but it seems reasonable that the preservative is the suspected culprit.
I love figs but typically eat one only every couple of days. I have bought other figs in the past that sported no similar warning label. These were not as large, soft, and tasty as the allegedly adulterated brand so I face a bit of a dietary dilemma. I have no reason to worry that my consumption will cause birth defects, and I think it unlikely the few I eat will measurably reduce my life expectancy. Unless the Food and Drug Administration issues regulations prohibiting the sale of the ones I favor, I will continue to live on the edge.
I am not so cavalier about other risks to my health and safety. I have fastened my car's shoulder belt across my chest since before the law required it. I have never engaged in bungee jumping or sky diving and have now reached the point in my life at which discretion clearly demands I forego these and similar death-defying pursuits. I find I am now in the high risk group for all sorts of illnesses simply because I successfully dodged others that might have done me in when I was younger. For the last few years, therefore, I have visited the pharmacy for the recommended vaccinations.
For nearly four decades, the Darwin Awards has recognized those souls demonstrating noteworthy, if cringe-worthy, creativity in eliminating their potential to spawn succeeding generations. The constant use of cell phones in recent years to document even the most mundane of our actions ensures that at least some of the gruesome exploits of the sort the awards honor have been documented thoroughly. Despite these viral videos appearing regularly on various social media, there are those who persist in demonstrating seemingly unparalleled levels of questionable judgment in all manner of unique and terrifying endeavors.
Through the ages, at least some of our fellow humans have left little doubt that their larders are devoid of stores of common sense. They must be regularly advised, then, to let sleeping dogs lie and cautioned against poking the bear. (The latter warning appears to refer to one specific bear but prudence dictates applying this standard of discretion to every bear one encounters.) A spate of news reports in recent years suggests a similar admonition should be printed and distributed to tourists entering national parks to discourage their taking selfies with bison.
Warnings about dogs, bears, and bison have a specificity to them that limits the more general application of the virtue of prudence by the literalists among us. Recognizing this, we have been advised for millennia to leave well enough alone. Aesop expressed this as "Better to bear a lesser evil than to risk a greater in removing it." Voltaire tells us "The perfect is the enemy of the good." The more familiar, colloquial version is "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
For those naturally inclined to be too clever by half, this well-meant advice, when heeded, can guard against the perils of unintended consequences. Taking these calls to caution to an extreme, however, can set those same individuals to roving blindly along paths littered with the stumbling blocks of complacency.
I was a decade or more into my tenure as manager of a small city when I sensed an ominous pattern to the biennial elections. Despite, or perhaps because of, the success of the efforts of members of the administration and the council in tackling some momentous challenges over many years, community leaders had come to believe that they were guaranteed more of the same without end. Past efforts to recruit comparable replacements for those elected representatives that fell victim to term limits had broken down. Each election over several cycles saw little competition for seats, paving the way for cranks, ax-grinders, and micromanagers. My efforts to sound the alarm subtly about this trend went unheeded right up until sufficient changes in the composition of the council led to my being forced to resign.
City managers lose their jobs for all sort of reasons besides complacency so this example, on its own need not, lead to excessive hand-wringing and teeth-gnashing. It is the case, however, that enactment and effective administration of sound public policy at any level of government do not happen all on their own. They require an electorate disinclined to jump aboard a train hurtling toward a cliff.
A more subtle and insidious form of complacency can and does affect many municipal managers and it is not unrelated to the nature of governance today. There is a toll that is exacted from many public servants whose positions are found at or near the top of the organization chart. Because they can lose their jobs for all sorts of reasons, because they feel a duty to invest unreasonable amounts of time in their work, because missteps occur in broad daylight for all the world to see, and because increasing numbers of people have become especially loath to forgive others their trespasses, they experience unrelenting levels of stress. Mental health suffers. Relationships suffer. Work output and quality suffer.
There are increased efforts to alert managers to the consequences of chalking up these symptoms to the nature of the work. Even so, as I will attest, the warning signs are easy to ignore if one is predisposed toward even a modest level of complacency with regard to personal matters and diligent in avoiding mirrors of self-reflection. For them, leaving well enough alone can be a comforting mantra, until it isn't.
Well enough is not good enough. City administrators must not stray outside the ethical boundaries that proscribe influencing the outcome of elections of members of the governing body. On the other hand, they have a duty to be advocates for a view of good government that educates officials and the citizenry as a whole on how to serve the public interest in a manner consistent with the ideals of civic virtue and neighborliness. These same administrators must also put themselves and their families ahead of their work obligations with much greater regularity than is often the case at present.
The antidote for the poison of complacency, if one is to be found, is likely to require a new virtue, or at least a clearer conception of prudence. If cautious optimism is acceptable when considering important matters for which the future is uncertain, perhaps cautious boldness is appropriate when calculating the likelihood that unwelcome outcomes will result from leaving well enough alone.
You wax poetic! Collecting stories for a book?