Intricacies

One evening, I was called out for a chat with a school friend. I enjoy good conversations, especially over coffees and teas, though this wasn't the case. It was outside a convenience store. In Korea it's common to have tables and chairs outside convenience stores for people to eat, smoke, chat, drink, and pass out, though not necessarily in that order.

Insert chuckle.

Regardless of the place, it was a good conversation. We started talking about jobs and careers, naturally. I find this all too common a topic nowadays, but he said something interesting. The précis goes something like this: our generation was taught and brought up to believe that we can achieve anything if we try hard enough, and we should have passion for what we do in life; it's a great message, but where's the responsibility in that?

The problem here isn't that the belief is inherently wrong. The problem is that the message is oversimplified. Passion is of great importance to our lives; it concerns what we do and why we do them. But too often whilst pursuing our passion, we leave our responsibilities behind. And when we fail at achieving what we want, we are devastated because passion has become our identities. Responsibilities work counter, though in conjunction, with our passions. Responsibilities are the precautions and preparations we take, and the actions we plan to take when we invest in our passion. It's also about understanding the boundaries of your passion, acknowledging the risks and consequences of your actions.

Halt.

These are fairly robust definitions, yet they are still just preliminary definitions of responsibility. Given the context of passion, it's rightly so. But passion, as you experience in all endeavors of life, involves choice. The more encompassing view of responsibility is related to our motives for our actions. It involves our intentions and conscience for the choices we make. If dreams and choices are what we do, then responsibility is how and why we do them.

A designer designs.

Take John for an example. John is a passionate industrial designer. Ever since he was little, he loved drawing, crafting things, sketching ideas, and at an early age he had become fluent in the visual language of objects. He graduated from a top design school and he got a job afterwards, doing what he loved best - designing. The hours were long and sometimes the tasks were menial, but he rarely complained. Overall, he enjoyed his job. And years went by, until he met a girl and got married. The unforgiving hours often kept him away from home, the less-than-average pay was distressing, but combined with his wife's salary they managed. A couple of years passed and now they want to start a family. But John fears that with his wife off the payrolls, he will not be able to sufficiently support his family. He begins to feel burdened and confronted with this reality, John contemplates a different career, moving out of the city, or compromise by creating an independent start-up design firm. He needs to make a choice.

What would you do?

Understandably, I am a guy and the scenario is gender-biased. But, the interlink between choice and responsibility is a universal phenomenon. Simplified, all choice leads to an action. And all actions have consequences. Responsibilities are the challenges of meeting those consequences. Whether you are a boy or a girl, a man or a woman, if you exercise choice then you will appropriate responsibilities, which you must face. When you apply for a job, when you enter a relationship, when you buy a car, when you eat a Big Mac, or when you make a promise, consequences follow. And to manage those consequences is, in part, to be responsible.

One porcupine. Two porcupines. Three porcupines.

The thing is, I want John to continue to design. He really loves what he does, and he is ardent and passionate. I believe, if he strives harder and persists, he is going to be okay. But the question is now. And nothing is certain about his future. Suppose he continues to design. Some may admire his passion for design while some will write him off being selfish. He'd risk suffering his family's quality of life. Well, is it selfish? Or is it passion?

Is this a standoff?

This is where my initial thought train began. It was the problem of choice and risk, namely its consequences. But while pondering, I realised two mistakes on my part. First mistake was that I phrased the question wrongfully. If I only considered the outcome of John's choice, then I would've disregarded the purpose of his action altogether. If I only focused on the result, then I would've fallen in trap of explaining John's choice as simply goal-oriented. And in this scenario, fear is an alternative explanation. And this conjures up a new question: does motivation matter in responsibility? To explain better, let's say John moved out of the city and decided a different career path, because family comes first. It's a sound decision, but we have no indication to his internal states. He may have acted on love. Or he may have acted out of fear. In fact, he may have thought that the risk of his family's quality of life diminishing was good enough a reason to make that decision. And while some may answer John's responsibleness adequate, the decision made out of fear and a decision founded in love are qualitatively different. It's the difference between giving a gift because you love someone and giving a gift because you fear he or she will leave you. It's the difference between a leader listening to his crowd because he is concerned and a leader listening to his crowd because he fears the crowd revolting. Would you call such person a responsible lover? Would you call such person a responsible leader?

Actions matter and John's actions indeed have consequences, but the definitive solution is found in the motivation. For John, it's the difference between John doing so because he fears for his family's well-being and John doing so because he is reminded of his love for his family and identifies who he is amongst his family before his work title.

I'd overseen this quality in responsibility by asking the question of passion versus responsibility as a simple tug-of-war. Truth is it's much more complicated. Even more so, most decisions we make are often mixed with motives. They are in the gray-area where it's partly fear-driven and partly love-driven. And in most cases, I believe that's normal and healthy. But it does add to the already existing complexity of choice, action, and motivation. And it's something to always be mindful of.

Sine. Cosine. Tangent.

The second mistake is much simpler and easier to explain than the first. The second mistake I made was that I didn't include John's wife in the decision-making process. After all, it's her decision just as much as it is his decision. I'm not sure what John's wife would say though, because I don't know her. John is a fictional character, and it was hard enough pulling out a person from thin air. I don't think I could do two. But whatever the decision, if made together, I believe it will be the right decision.

So yes, John should talk with his wife first.

Good luck, John.

P.S. The above photograph was taken across the Graduate House at University of Toronto. I miss my Toronto friends.