FRIDAY, April 19, 2024
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Vanity, definitely my favourite sin

Vanity, definitely my favourite sin

We all like to promote good deeds. We want the world to be full of people like Krabi's mud-caked saviour. We shared his story and showered him with praise. We cleaned him up, dressed him and supplied his home with electricity. He was garlanded with flowe

But aren’t we overdoing the praise to the point of spoiling him? To go a bit further, aren’t we unintentionally skewing the definition of “goodness” and how it should be repaid? When someone wades in to help people stuck in thick mud, it’s noble. When someone repeats that act, but first takes the opportunity to check whether there’s a video camera around, is it the same?
Many would point out that everyone is human, so it’s normal to crave adulation. It’s better to reward goodness, sometimes lavishly, than to leave people thinking that they do it for nothing. Every human being needs at least a little incentive for their actions, goes this theory. If people only do good things out of a subconscious desire for recognition, then so be it.
The problem is that such a thought places us on the lip of a slippery slope. A good act is not “good” unless someone else notices or acknowledges it as such. Worse still, goodness can become “political”, meaning it needs to be promoted, advertised or otherwise propagated. When a dog alerts humans to an abandoned baby at a garbage dump, it does so without knowledge of the concept of heaven, let alone TV stardom. When men rescue a dog stuck down a well, the act is videotaped from start to finish.
Make no mistake, the rescue of a dog – such as the one that was shared widely on Facebook a few days ago – is a noble act. Applauding the rescuers is also appropriate. Yet less obvious but just as deserving of our attention and emulation are the daily acts of goodness that occur behind the scenes. Every day, doctors, nurses and emergency workers save countless lives beyond the lens of any camera. Kids find the rough road of poverty smoothed by the love and pride they feel for their parents, but you won’t see anything about it online. Yes, we all know this. But are we really aware of it?
The social media has many merits, but among its biggest faults is the temptation it offers to be “politically good”. 
Thus, it’s up to us not to cross the line. Some things are better left to the likes of politicians. 
Hungry, dishevelled children are just as deserving of our comfort when TV cameras are not around. A flooded neighbourhood merits our aid even when nobody expects it and there’s not a reporter in sight.
Vanity engulfs us when we overindulge our pride and spawn a preening ego. It becomes a sin when it steals time from more pressing issues. “Political goodness” needs far more than the simple act of goodness. It requires that “PR people” are there before, during and after the act, making sure that it catches the eye. Otherwise everything will have been a waste.
No entourage of hired publicists accompanies the Krabi rescuer. The spontaneous admiration of netizens all over the world serves as his PR. It’s good that we have come to know of his story. But whether it’s good for him, we can’t really tell. On the bright side, his rise to fame has led the provincial electricity authority to extend its reach to his neighbourhood, although that makes one wonder why it should take an act of kindness towards foreigners stranded on a muddy riverbank before homes are finally connected to the grid. All in all, whether the “rewards” will outweigh less desirable consequences of this kind act, only time will tell.
For now, all we can say is that, without his mud-caked clothes, he looked a bit out of place. That could be a good sign. Had he appeared comfortable in the limelight, we might have cause for concern. 
We may have unwittingly shunted him to a crossroads. The rewards are there, and so is the recognition and even adulation. When he was muddied, his mind was certainly pure. Now that he has been cleaned up, we can only hope he remains immune to all the dirt behind the sparkle of his new surroundings.
Writer’s note: “Vanity, definitely my favourite sin” are the final words spoken by the Devil (Al Pacino) in the closing scene of the “Devil’s Advocate”. They serve to place a new and more subtle stranglehold on our hero (Keanu Reeves), just as he thought he had escaped the disastrous temptation of becoming an unbeatable lawyer with his soul and humanity intact. The Devil is referring to the hero’s acceptance of a glorifying media interview following his decision to do the “right” thing.
 
 
 
  
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