Why I Quit My Job

Like people, there are two groups of nations: nations that lead and nations that follow. We can split the latter into nations that blindly follow and nations that deliberately follow.

Of course, the argument can be easily deconstructed. To the same extent, the argument can be proved.

For the past twelve years, I have put my brain in the service of a nation that follows. And I did that either in a blind or a deliberate way. Eventually, it makes no difference.

Everything that follows is about how it started and how, and especially why, it ended.


I was eighteen when I decided to became what I thought it was a political scientist. I was so passionate about it, that I unconsciously decided to ignore everything that could have possibly curved my enthusiasm. I immersed into apparently obsolete political readings and agonized over statistics and research methods.

I had a lot of teachers, some of whom I merely recall, some of whom I loved and still feel grateful for having met them. Still, there is one who shaped me forever.

He was probably in his mid 50s. I never actually knew his age. With the mind of a sociologist and the heart of a mathematician, he taught us how to start battles and win wars. I enrolled in all his classes, only for the pleasure of seeking along for the perfect strategy. I sit and listened to him talk about how individuals and nations should do everything for a cause and with a reason.

For him, shaping the minds of young generations was the ultimate cause.


At about 21, I started my career in journalism. Reading too much Aron (i.e. Raymond) fooled me. I thought I could contribute to shaping my generation by using the right words and pointing at strong ideas. I wrote for nothing, almost for free.

I ended up doing television. They needed an editor on world news. I thought the war on terrorism was strong enough for news. They strongly believed the dancing Panda was better. Terrorism and global poverty would scare the audience, they said.

I moved on and embarked on doing TV documentaries. During two and a half years I wrote and filmed about everything. From under aged motherhood to investing in green energy. I filmed in Romania’s poorest villages, and saw mothers raise their children with less than 100$ per month. I cried seeing 17 years old girls suffering from RTS. And then watched big cats being tortured in zoos and circuses, only because men thought it was fun.

One day, the TV station decided to end the show for good. It was too costly, they said.

No hard feelings.


Soon after, a friend introduced me to someone who was then Minister in office. He was a bold man. He still is. He was bold enough to persuade me to work with him. It was an exceptional experience, in every sense the word can bare.

I was in a good place, but it did not feel like I was winning. Such things as bad contexts are not only excuses for malfunctioning relationships. Bad context do exist.

It felt like I was losing, even if I wasn’t. I felt like a good citizen of a bad country. A country that followed, a country with no great expectations.

The day I acknowledge that, I quit my job.


I evaluated my past and found the perfect mirroring of everything that was broken: rotten education and health systems, corrupt administration, public opinion with feeble fundamentals, press and politics separated by shallow boundaries. After twelve years of trial and error, I am turning back to the man who taught me how to start my battles and win my wars. However, that’s anything but an easy job.

To be continued.

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