advocatus diaboli

I upset people. That's what I do. Some of my best friends think of me as an irritating bastard and still, that won't keep them from inviting me to the next Thanksgiving dinner. Sweet people, but how much worse must be your perception of me? You, who don't know me personally, don't have many options between hating my guts and loving me "anyway." But wait, perhaps there is something else to be considered:

My evil ways are the fault of my rotten star sign, of course. Hence it's useless for me to issue a public apology.

People crave advice. How do I know that? The revenue of the how-to industry, self-help books, and the self-improvement movement are proof how much we desire for others to tell us what to do. First we need to know how valuable a person's opinion might be: we are obsessed with credentials.

Once you can prove to me you're good, I'm willing to believe your opinion is worth listening to. Recently, I read a guy's book who spend some 55 pages--and I kid you not--on building up his readers' belief in his, this authors, abilities. Incredible! Of course, "past performance is no guarantee for future results," but apparently those using their credentials as bait have unshakable faith in the stupidity of their audience.

We believe someone's credentials, we trust her advice ... but we still WON'T do what she suggests. All of us have had brilliant advice throughout our entire lives. Our parents and grandparents have told us for decades not to spend more money than what we are making. It doesn't get simpler than that. And, did you listen?

Some of us, if not most of us, had to painfully learn it again while paying exorbitant prices for this simple lesson that a first grader can understand intellectually. We don't care about advice, no matter how true and down-to-earth it may me. Honestly, we don't give a rat's pink behind about anybody's credentials. We want to do what we want ... but that can be the most difficult thing to figure out.

I have said it before and I shall do so again: I will never tell you what to do. Neither will I bore you with advice about things you "should not" do. I am giving you EXTREME ideas to ponder. I don't care whether you "like" what I say or not. You happen to agree? So what? You disagree and you feel offended? So?

This is not about an argument one of us can win. It's a waste of time to find common ground by working towards a congruent opinion. I don't care what you think, and I hardly care about my own thoughts. The devil's advocate was invented by the Catholic Church--by Pope Sixtus V., to be exact--in anno domini 1587 to deal with cases of beatification and canonization. The Promotor of the Faith or Promotor Fidei, as his title was called officially, had the purpose to get to the bottom of each case, to find the truth (Saint or no Saint).

Often I playfully take the position of the devil's advocate not to unveil an absolute or "objective" truth, but to enable YOU to discover simply what you want to think and what you really want to do. I don't know what you should think, and I don't have the slightest idea what you should do. The devil's advocate may believe what she claims or she may not believe it herself. That is immaterial. What YOU believe is important, or at least I hope it is of importance to you.

When I see individuals being pissed off about me assuming the role of the devil's advocate, I know I hit the bull's eye: they are completely lost! They are also upset with me because I don't give them the advice they would then REJECT. As upset as they are, I know for a fact that they would indeed reject ANY advice I could give them ("I don't feel so good, but at least I am better than you are.").

Devils' advocates remind us of our own painful moments of confusion. We don't like to be confused. We don't like to be seen by others as indecisive, hesitant, and insecure. Confusion equals weakness for many. I don't believe it used to be easy to land a job at Lehman Brothers, high up the food chain, for indecisive and insecure applicants. That must have really helped the company.

Confusion is good!

When you are at a crossroads and you literally do not know: THEN you get a taste of freedom. I won't deny that the experience of raw freedom is often painful, but it will be your very own truth that sets you free. It's not someone's truth somewhere that you need to hunt down.

I may tell you once-in-awhile that I argue the perspective of "advocatus diaboli." I am sorry if you don't enjoy that! Seriously, I am. I feel sorry for you because it might be in your best interest to treat any type of advice as if it was given by a fraud and a quack like me. The next street bum you see may have wisdom that's potentially more valuable to you than the combined knowledge of a hundred assorted lawyers from Merrill Lynch, AIG, and Lehman. Credentials are cheap these days. No, scratch that: credentials have always been worthless.

Confusion is good for ya, emotional upheaval included. Confusion means instant freedom.

Egbert Sukop