Back in the … my heavens 1980’s? (shuddercringe) there was this really good cop show called “Hill Street Blues.” My favorite character was (of course) the cop who bit people but overall the entire cast was really, really good.
One character who really stood out was Sgt. Phil Esterhaus, a gentle, no-nonsense giant who genuinely cared about cops, their mental and physical well-being, kind of like the grandfather or great uncle who would teach you how to hunt and dress your kill while also teaching the importance of respecting the sacrifice, to use every part of the animal (pelt, meat, bones, etc).
Good dude, on the show and in life, apparently. Michael Conrad (the actor) died of cancer in ’83, and his family approved of him being written out of the show with the storyline he suffered a fatal heart attack during vigorous sex. Heh.
Anyhoo, Sgt. Esterhaus had a tagline he would use to dismiss the officers at the briefing conclusion: “Let’s be careful out there.”
His replacement? Jablonski – “Let’s do it to them before they do it to us.”
Umm. Somehow, that one fails to convey the same sense of compassion.
Point being: reputation really is everything. {1 Peter 2:15}
In cancel culture, once your reputation is destroyed, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to rehabilitate it.
See: Kevin Spacey. He was acquitted, but still busking on street corners and crying in interviews that he is broke.
Johnny Depp had to expose all of his personal business in a civil trial – married to Amber Turd was truly a nightmare – before public opinion shifted. Until then, he was just another @$$hole in an A-line tee.
“Reputation is the cornerstone of power.”
In the third century BC, a great Chinese general — nicknamed the “Sleeping Dragon” — had cultivated a reputation of cunning and guile, widely believed to be the most clever man in the Shu Kingdom. During a campaign, he sent most of his army away (to do something else) while he and a small phalanx of soldiers remained behind in the city. However, messengers arrived and alerted him that an opposing army – 150,000 men strong – was on its way. The Sleeping Dragon immediately dismissed his soldiers, telling them to hide, threw the city gates open, while he sat on top of a wall in monk’s robes playing a lute in full view of the arriving army. The other general saw the Sleeping Dragon, apparently unguarded, unarmed, and alone, and immediately thought it was a trap, ordering his army to retreat. Such was the reputation of the Sleeping Dragon that he beat an entire army alone and without a fight.
In 1841, PT Barnum wanted to buy a museum; problem was, he had no money and no history with the sellers. Despite this, the museum directors agreed to a verbal deal based on guarantees of future performance and personal references; i.e., promises and reputation. However, the museum directors eventually backed out of the agreement and decided to sell to another party, claiming that the other party had a better reputation with the sellers, and thus it was the safer deal. Barnum, heated, decided to get revenge.
First, he attacked the reputation of the buyer, taking out newspaper ads telling the public that its stock was risky, that with the purchase of the new museum its resources were predictably thin. The tactic worked; the new buyer’s stock plunged, and the museum directors then reneged on that deal, finally agreeing to sell to Barnum. The failed/attacked buyer felt understandably salty; years later, after rebuilding its business and reputation, it advertised magnetism as “scientific, high-brow” entertainment to draw in large crowds, in opposition to Barnum’s clown shows, finally achieving a level of success.
Barnum attacked again.
He performed his own demonstrations of magnetism but, strangely, they never seemed to work. His attempts at hypnotizing the audience always failed, and when he declared he would prove the effectiveness of magnetism by entrancing his assistant then cutting off her finger, she rose and bolted off stage. The audience had a good laugh, and Barnum repeated his mockery of the practice over several weeks. Eventually public attention in magnetism waned, and the competitor’s show (and business) finally shut down.
Doubt and ridicule are powerful weapons when used against reputation … under (less than) ideal circumstances, a person’s character can be wholly destroyed with subtle insinuations, veiled comments, and oblique criticisms, all masked under a veneer of mild concern or gentle teasing.
To shield one’s own reputation, it must be carefully cultivated and preserved, ensuring that perception cannot be altered by the words or actions of an enemy. By developing a reputation with a single, defining characteristic – whether generosity or humility or guile – a person will become known for that singular trait, and reputation will root and blossom as the result of the opinions (favorably or not) of others. Think: Casanova – he had a reputation for seduction, and thus in his presence women expected to be seduced.
Similarly, credit functions as a financial reputation, and the better the reputation, the greater access to power (i.e., money/capital/resources). Akin to a personal or professional reputation, one’s financial reputation must so too be guarded from attacks, whether from external forces or self-induced, because once reputation is destroyed, it is nearly impossible to recover. Think: OJ Simpson (it didn’t fit so they acquit) or Jeffrey Epstein (didn’t kill himself). Reputation lost, and vilified even after death.
Tread lightly.