The Midlife Coding Crisis

I make other people rich for a living.

The truth of the phrase is an epiphany for most of us. Yet, some the brightest don’t see. Numbers are what we are. Plucking away at plastic keys like a corporate allegory of the cave in practice. Some see when shown, but most will never see. I make other people rich for a living.

Some is not enough.

This animal needs more for the leaders need more. The leaders need more for the board needs more. The board needs more for the investors need more. The investors need more because they are wealthy? When it dies, the leaders seem to safely glide back to earth on umbrellas of gold. The investors perceived philanthropy in compensated and admired. The numbers are counted as zero and divided by ourselves. It begins again. Some is never enough.

What have I done?

The heroes are carpenters, welders, mechanics and machinists. The heroes are scientists, activists, humanists and realists. From fishing guide to game maker. From author to cage shaker. The world is losing these things. Yet, I do nothing. My kids grow in an age where plumbers and truck drivers are mocked. Yet, I do nothing. Science is challenged with lame headline slugs by fact-less, source-less, blog writing spin journalists looking for hits to make money. Yet, I do nothing. What have I done?

How is this happening?

We are told to get high pay. We are told to aim high. But, the scales of self respect were long ago tainted with perceptions and opinions of another age. Money becomes the measure as it shifts and inflates. It becomes more important than humanity. It becomes more important than environment. It become the ego. But, this same worth turns to regret in the deathbed. How is this happening?

Is it too late?

Of all the things we mindlessly misuse, the life is the most tragic. The most precious natural resource wasting. Spent on cubicles, inflated self-worth and attachment. Squandered on stress, dress codes and hierarchy. Exhausted on not offending others. Depleted on fitting in and being liked. This is not life. But, is it too late?

Money rules, you say.

Yes. The value that shouldn't define also enslaves us. The monetary snare hangs us by one leg while promising to let us free if we just play along. But it secretly wants you to die for it. It needs you to expire. Your retirement and your pension make a great bonus. It promises there is a end to your drudgery. It lies. Money rules, you say.

Some will laugh though.

Yes. And laugh they shall. They long ago convinced themselves that senseless syntax methodically strewn on liquid crystal displays is self esteem. Arranged one way you are a god, another you are worthless. They attempt defining humans by the the organization of gibberish. They must be challenged. What breath of human life exists solely from your silent strokes of genius? What lexical innovation do you possess not linked to greed or self importance? If you cannot answer, you cannot laugh. Some will laugh though.

What can I do?

Dream. The most precious human resource cannot be taken from you. The wealth mongers cannot take it, though they try. They are afraid once you know the truth, you won’t need them anymore and their numbers will dwindle. Compensation, self righteous titles, and pretentiously named cultures are illusions given to motivate you. They don’t deserve your dreams, the world needs them. Change the world.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Jeff Downing’s story.