Actually, please don't!
Not because I intend you harm.
Not because I seek to mislead or coerce you. Not because my motives are concealed. In fact, the reason why I don't seek to be
trusted is I have come to find trust entirely untrustworthy. During three separate meetings within the
last seven days, I encountered trust (or the lack thereof) in highly divergent
venues and, in each instance, I found it entirely lacking.
In the first instance, I was spending time with a gentlemen
with whom I've been working to gain financial literacy around his capabilities
to take responsibility in his investments.
Having recently seen the egregious evidence of a breach of trust at the
hands of a celebrated investment advisor, he was conveying his experience of
our interactions to others.
"What does David want for helping you?", he was
asked by a friend.
"He hasn't asked for anything," was the truthful
response.
"Then I wouldn't trust him if I were you," the
friend replied.
A corrupt puppet President convinced a Parliament to pass a
natural resources bill thoroughly entangling a corporate interest into the very
fabric of law. While denigrating his
citizens as incapable of understanding legalese, he called on them to trust
their leaders who, failing to read the massive bill, were acting in
their best interest. Dripping with
condescension, this former priest administered an odious elixir of corruption
as he offered up his land and his citizens to his patrons.
"The problem with what's happening here is that I don't
trust
you!"
This sentence punctuated an
impassioned expression of total exasperation in an exchange within a
relationship. At the culmination of an
intense dialogue on divergent experiences of life and perceived reality, the
frustration of feeling that there was no shared grounding for expositions
between two individuals resulted in the impulse to undermine all preceding
exchanges with the blanket declaration of an absence of trust.
Why has trust become an agency of
division in our social discourse?
Presented in either form - a declarative punctuation seeking to end
further inquiry or objection ("trust me") or an affirmation or
rejection of surrogated discernment and judgment ("do/don't trust
you") - a central problem with "trust" is that, in its profligacy,
it has been encrusted with prima facie
evidence of its absence. Our collective
anaphylaxis towards trust is not without ample justification. Wars, governments, churches, businesses,
judges, religions have all appealed to trust (and its incarnate twin 'faith')
when open inquiry and transparent disclosure do not serve the occult purpose
for which all of these institutions are frequently organized. Tragically, from a mismanaged billion dollar
family office to a coffee table rending of relationship, not only do we eschew
trust but we actually often settle into the comfort of known abuse, injury, and
predation.
Ironically, often the only thing
we seem to trust is our certainty in its manifest absence. This paradox is fascinating on many levels. If we receive kindness from a stranger or
disproportionate care from an unexpected interaction with an associate, why is
our instinct to question what ulterior motive must be present? Is it possible that knowledge or life stories
could be shared for their own sake without an expectation that they must belie
an unspoken metaphor or occult meaning?
I wonder if the reason why we
mistrust trust is because we despise the subtle hierarchy that so frequently
attends its propagation. The person
imploring for trust may be cloaking true intentions and we're pretty sure that
this is most likely the case. By
casting aspersions on interpersonal trust, the Agent Orange effect exfoliates
every plant laying barren any semblance of verdant fellowship. And once unleashed, mistrust has a lingering
toxicity as, at any moment, it can be used to undermine intent, expression, or
character.
We're probably at a state in our
social systems where trust needs a to take a sabbatical. Not that we don't need what it represents in
an ideal form but, at present, it's capacity to evoke its antithesis is
compelling.
In its place, I ingest and suggest
the antidote of explicit manifestation devoid of contemporaneous exchange. By this I mean developing devotion to service
in which a counterparty can experience the evidence of integrity, fidelity, and
loyalty without appealing to, or self-critiquing the absence of, trust. Seldom is this practice more robust than the
explicit interaction between people where value is exchanged but no mercantile
impulse is denominated. When the
description of the context in which an impulse to exchange arises and
explication of the relationship between and among parties is the sole focus of
engagement and interaction, confidence - not trust - becomes possible.
What we want when we aspire to trust is most likely the
confidence of those within our community or our sphere of influence. However, community is likely more often
harmed then helped when it's asked to set aside exhaustive inquisitiveness or
blindly offer benign assent to a petitioner for trust. Rather than pleading for or imposing a
cognitive displacement aspiration in others, it's high time that we recognize
the incomparable value of manifest evidence.
And, lest you infer that I'm optimistic, I'm not. When you do this, it's still common for
others to question intentions or incentives.
The difference is that if you recklessly engage in transparent,
generative interactions in the world, you leave humanity somewhat more enriched
than you found it. And I trust that a
few of you actually boldly enter that world with untrustworthy,
integrity-filled abandon.