Once I had a Shakespeare teacher who gave several great lectures about the Bard’s betrayal themes .

Shakespeare knew best.

There’s my friend Joe, for example.  He’s the second in command in a small marketing and event planning organization.  And the only person in the group who can write.  (I believe him on this. When it comes to cranking out words day after day, many are called, but few are chosen.)

The board president had a friend. She got the event planning job. Same salary as Joe. She cannot write. He pointed that out at the hiring meeting. She got hired anyway.

“Just tweak this for me, Joe,” she’ll say. “Do your magic on this,” she’ll say. Neither tweaking nor magic can help her stuff. So if it’s something Joe also needs, he has to rewrite the whole thing.

Did I mention that she has the same salary as Joe?

Then there’s Bob. For twenty years, he has run a small organization in a college. Now he’s invited all over the world to tell ‘em how he does what he does. Meanwhile, the college nickel and dimes him constantly—because his advanced degree is not the same as the advanced degrees in his department. International reputation? Pah.

Notice that these are white men in their fifties. Hardly an oppressed group. Except for the “fifties” part.

America loves Young Turks. Then they wear them down, nickel by dime, one tiny betrayal after another.

Then they hire another Young Turk, and the cycle continues. Experience? Pah.

No wonder we can’t figure out answers to the world’s problems. We keep betraying those who might be able to help.