The fear of the greater fool
The greater fool is an economic term, which says that a price of an object is determined by the irrational beliefs of the other beings. Simply put, it is the rationalization of paying for something with a nonsensically high price, under the belief that another fool is willing to pay more. The majority of us would step away from this self-delusion and egoist strategy. The majority of us would swim with the flows of common sense and conservative thinking. But there is something admirable about the greater fool. They are willing to challenge the status quo, swim against the tide with optimism and naivety. They are willing to dig at the mention of gold, and keep digging even at the thought of its unlikely discovery. They value the things that we trivialize as naive and foolish.
But the greater fool is not an egotistical and narcissistic Wallstreet trader, one will buy long and sell short. No, the greater fool, like you and I, experiences the same emotions of the fear of failure, and he does question his sense of lucidity. With very fine precision, he computes the cost and benefits in order to compare the utility of his decision and the likelihood of success. Where many of us, whether it be out of fear, skepticism or the best probability of success, would be content with chasing the safest option, the greater fool finds the poetic beauty in chasing the elusive chance of obtaining the riskiest rewards. I am a greater fool. I am about to set sail, with nothing but a compass and a paddle boat, across the torrential oceans of uncertainty, in the hope that the person I can unequivocally say I love still can reciprocate the same emotion. I am going to see if she is also a greater fool like me.
Over the past year and a half, we have gotten to know, and then fallen in love with each other. But ever since we have been separated by a continent, we have started to drift apart, and as an insidious consequence, we found out that we have different values, that we have very different models of love. The rational voice in me, had in many times, said to move on. ‘The risk is not worth the reward’ it would lecture. I can see my friends, through their sympathetic faces, are watching my fool-hardy attempt to keep afloat a sinking ship with silent disapprovals. But I see this poetic beauty in the elusive chance for being with her, even though I am petrified with fear.
Many times a imagine the coldness of our physical reunion. How will we react? Will I be able to give her a hug and kiss? Will she? Will she smile with joy? Or will she give me a molded smile, impervious from her emotions? Being a greater fool, I try to convince myself of self-delusion that it will work out. Like a bursting dam, a deluge of passion will come out from our hearts, and we will once be what we once were. In love.