Duty, Responsibility, & The Plow

I’m infuriated by seven-footers who are bad at basketball. The thought probably occurs to you as well: if I were seven-feet-tall, I’d be the greatest player of all-time.

I can’t help it; a jealous rage grows within me every time the tallest guy on the court gets beat for a rebound - despite the fact that I don’t want to be an NBA player. In fact, I’ve never wanted to be in the NBA, but if I were seven-feet-tall, I’m convinced I would be in the NBA, whether I liked it or not.

We talk often of ambition, and the noble pursuit of wanting to give more of yourself. But, what if you don’t want to? We have been instructed to follow our passions and do what makes us happy, but this isn’t always what is best. You should use your privileges, talents, gifts, and abilities to make the world better, even if you don’t want to.

Unless they will do something better, like cure cancer or become a doctor, seven-footers have a responsibility to play basketball. If basketball is how you can make your highest impact on society, get on the court and get me some rebounds. Complete a 10-year career, then do whatever you want. You can’t just do what makes you happy all the time - it wouldn’t be good for you. Drugs make people happy.

After some intensely critical, often motherly gossip, you’ll usually hear the backtracking statement: Well, at least he’s happy. Or even worse: Well, if he’s happy, that’s all that matters. Nope. There’s someone in a drunken stupor having the time of his life in a war zone right now. He’s happy? That’s not all that matters. Many more things matter. 

Cincinnati, Ohio is named after a Roman man who lived and died 2500 years ago: Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus. Like much Roman history, the complete truth is difficult to verify, but the moral of the legend is important nonetheless, so the story goes as follows:

By 458 BC, Cincinnatus had retired as a statesman and found his new purpose in tending to his small farm. Aged 61, he had no plans to return to public life, and was perfectly content tilling the fields until he died. The Aequi, an Italic tribe to the east of Rome, invaded the city of Tusculum, and the Romans fell into panic when their first defensive was besieged.

A hero was needed, and a group of senators ran to Cincinnatus’ farm and pleaded that he accept the role of dictator and quell the rebellion. He was found pushing his plow, and accepted their request right there, changing into his toga and going to meet the senate.

As it’s told, in 16 days, Cincinnatus drove out the enemy and restored peace in Rome. He had been granted a six-month term of absolute power, meaning he was the most powerful man in Rome, and could do anything he wanted. Once the rebellion was over, he resigned as dictator, relinquishing his role of supreme power and returning immediately to his plow - right where he had left it in the middle of his field. The soil still needed turning and he went right back to pushing.

Cincinnatus was a private citizen who rose to the occasion, answered the call, and assumed the mission that his country and people needed him to complete. He fulfilled his obligation to protect his nation because he was called upon to do so, not because he wanted to.

Imagine if Cincinnatus let the rebellion continue because atleast he was happy. How would the Roman citizens have taken it if he said: I think I’m good, I’m just gonna stay here and plow for awhile. His fellow countrymen might be dead or enslaved by the time he finishes.

I am of the hypothesis that many of our current societal problems exist because those who are capable of solving them are neglecting their responsibility. It is easier and more convenient for them not to go through the risk and struggle of tackling our problems, and they are choosing the easy route.

This is why we’re having a Trump vs. Biden rematch this November, despite the wild majority of Americans believing these are not the two best potential presidents of all 333,000,000 of our citizens. No one else wants to run. There’s someone out there, maybe tens of thousands of someones out there, who could do better, but they’re shrugging at the thought of it. Nah, I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to.

Maybe great men never wanted to, they just did it anyway.

George Washington was reluctant to accept the presidency, hadn’t he done enough? He had served as general of The Continental Army for eight years and was finally enjoying retired life at Mount Vernon when he was elected president in 1789. He had a responsibility to attend to, so he served two terms as our first president. When you win unanimously with every single vote, what you want doesn’t really matter.

Peter Parker never asked to be bit by that spider, and why would Harriett Tubman take any chances by going back to The South?

There will come a time when the world will need a hero. I’m saying that it may be you. I’m saying that it should be you, and I don’t care if it might disrupt your precious lifestyle. Even if you’re reluctant, rise to the occasion anyway.

All Cincinnatus wanted to do was push his damn plow. Yet, he had a duty to attend to. Fulfill your civic responsibility to lead, inspire, impact, and save the world. Then, return to your plow and keep tilling.