Death, Dynamite, and the Power of Public Perception
The Sidecar, Vol V. No. 4
Thoughts
Alfred was, by all measures, high-achieving. Not only was he a prolific inventor with 355 patents assigned him, but he was also a fluent speaker of six languages and an author of a four-act tragedy in prose. Alfred enjoyed the success that life bestowed upon him for his hard work. And it was amidst this season where we find our friend, on what was, to him, likely just another day in the life, but would be a day that became an inflection point of his legacy.
Without a precise account of the events, we can only imagine the events that transpired that fateful morning. Upon waking, Alfred might have swung his feet round from his bed, placing them firmly on the ground beneath him as he rose. Perhaps he puttered to the kitchen to prepare a hot kettle. Given his success, it's imaginable that he was afforded the luxury of someone else puttering to the kitchen to prepare a hot kettle for him. He may have taken his morning coffee in his reading room, drawing the curtains open as the morning sun pierced dirty windows. Black ink on thin white paper lay folded upon a side table, the newsman already having delivered the daily issue before Alfred stirred. He snapped open the pages (as one does) to see what was going on, the gentle wisps of steam dutifully rising from the cup beside him. But on this day, much to his surprise, he came across some startling news: Alfred, it appeared, had been pronounced dead. He found himself reading his own obituary.
Momento Mori is a rather popular trope used in art and culture, one that you have likely heard of. "Remember that you shall die," is the rough translation of the latin phrase, and from classical antiquity to Christian philosophy both ancient and modern, this symbol is ever-present. Visual art, architecture, literature and other mediums remind us often to contemplate our own mortality. Rather than allow this meditation to depress us, it should do just the opposite. Remembering our mortality should animate our efforts, not depress them.
The stoics contemplated mortality. Benedictine Monks pass by prominently-located open graves each day, with another dug as soon as one is filled. Moses petitioned that the Lord, "teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom" (Ps. 90). One of my favorite contemporary authors writes with a small skull sculpture on his desk. This time-tested ritual is far from morbid. It's a constant reminder to be present for the current day, to know that they are few, and that, while we are able, we should do something meaningful with the time we have.
Le marchand de la mort est mort. The words stared coldly at Alfred. "The merchant of death is dead." As his eyes pored over the obituary, surely what he saw was not what he would have hoped to appear. Beyond a supreme sense of confusion, Alfred must have been mortified to see just how negatively he was characterized.
The year was 1888. A prolific inventor and accomplished chemist, Alfred was credited with the invention of dynamite. After years researching nitroglycerin with a colleague, a much less stable explosive, dynamite was one of Alfred's big breaks. Dynamite provided stability, and began rapidly revolutionizing industries like mining as well as weapons manufacturing. Thus, his merchant of death characterization may not have been all that unfounded.
In The Road to Character, author David Brooks talks about pursuing "Eulogy Virtues" instead of "Resume Virtues." At your funeral, few (hopefully none) will mention the value you generated for shareholders. They won't tout the deal closing that awarded you the biggest earnings year or your life, nor will they proclaim other accolades like how great of an athlete or committed of a sports fan you were. The people who are touched and affected by your life will speak of your presence. They will refer to your loyalty, your counsel, your ear and your speech. They will remember experiencing emotions with you, the positive and negative, and they will recall both how you were and who you were throughout those episodes as well as who you became because of them. These are the things that are worth cultivating.
The curious thing about that day in 1888 was that someone had, in fact, died. It just wasn't Alfred. It had been his brother, Ludvig. The outlets that published the information received bad intel.
Alfred was afforded miraculous opportunity by this odd misfortune of publishing. He was able to flip the script. Understanding his existing public perception, he altered course. He would spend the remainder of his life aware of this reputation. He was determined to be remembered not by his negative characterizations, but those positive ones that he would accrue over the remainder of his life. And certainly, we do remember.
As his life came to a natural end, Alfred spent his final year arranging for the endowment of an award, allowing his material success to recognize others for years to come. It's one that you may have heard of: the Nobel Prize, instated to honor, "those who, during the preceding year, have conferred the greatest benefit to humankind." The prize would be awarded originally in five areas: Physics, Chemistry, Physiology or Medicine, Literature and finally, Peace.
From merchant of death to endower of peace: not a bad comeback story for one Alfred Nobel.
I've hesitated to share this essay, for as I write this even now I fear that you may interpret my suggestion here to place your public perception as a chief guidepost on your path of development. That, my friend, would seem antithetical to the kinds of messages that I pen here so frequently. But what then are we to do with public perception?
We can, and really we must, use public perception to shape and curb our behaviors. How else are we to know when we've gone too far? Like young school children on a playground, there seems to be an arranged "code" that we abide by, and how others perceive us can alert us to where and when we might be stepping over the line. Particularly when we place ourselves in communities with a mutual commitment to shared values, this perception is highly valuable. But we should take caution to ensure it remains in its rightful place. It is not, nor should it be, the very rudder or keel of our vessel. Rather, it can play a role more akin to the wind in our sails. We must tack and jibe based on what it sends our way. We can then adapt and pivot so that it works to propel us forward rather than pinning us back and preventing progress.
Until next time,
Things
A Gentleman In Moscow, Amor Towles’ bestselling novel about Count Alexander Rostov sentenced to a lifetime of house arrest in Moscow’s Metropol Hotel after the Bolshevik Revolution is now on screen. Towles on as an executive producer, the first two episodes that I’ve seen are wonderful. Ewan McGregor stars as the Count, a casting I couldn’t be happier with. I’ll report back with a full review, as I’m certain not too many of you out there have an existing Paramount+ Subscription.
The Third Thing, an essay by Donald Hall, is one that I revisit at least annually, if not more often. It’s beautiful, simply put. You can read it here.
I recently finished Captain Blood by Rafael Sabatini on a recommendation from a friend, and it thoroughly exceeded my expectations. This is the ideal pirate’s tale: Peter Blood’s noble commitment to his fellow man brings him to many unfortunate circumstances, from which he is able to escape via the Caribbean seas. While his pirate myth and reputation build, he remains steadfastly hopeful of another chance encounter with his muse. But will she accept Captain Blood the pirate? Or see who Peter Blood truly is beneath the folklore? Whether the Pirate’s life is for you or not, I guarantee that this is better fiction than what sits in brilliant colors on the front table of your local Barnes & Noble.
Thank you for reading, I sincerely appreciate it. I would love to hear from you, whether it be your thoughts on anything above, or any recommendations on food, wine, music, books, movies, shows, etc. that could find their way into a future issue. Or simply drop me a note to say hello! Reach me at writejohnduffy@protonmail.com - I look forward to hearing from you.
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