38 CRUCIAL CONVERSATIONSthirty-three years, considers himself the elder statesman of
the school. He's much more fond of war stories than he is of
neutrons and electrons, but the administration kind of turns
a blind eye, because the guy's a fixture.
At the principal's cue, Royce clears his throat and begins to
yammer on incoherently about the similarities between curricu
lum development and battle preparations. His antics are so
embarrassing that the audience quietly heaves their shoulders as
they futilely try to stifle their laughter.
Next, it's Brent's, the new guy's, turn. A couple of weeks ago,
the principal asked him to outline the science department's pro
posed curriculum changes. Brent met with his colleagues (even
Royce), gathered suggestions, and came ready to present.
As Brent begins, Royce starts demonstrating bayonet offen
sives with a yardstick, and Brent snaps. Slamming his fist on the
table, he shouts, "Am I the only one who wonders why we even
allow this fosil to talk? Did he miss a pill or something?"
A room full of stunned faces turns toward Brent. Realizing
that his colleagues must think he's possessed, Brent utters those
words we've all come to hate, "Hey, don't look at me like that!
I'm the only one around who has the guts to speak the truth."
What a tactic. Brent slams Royce in public, and then instead
of apologizing or maybe simply fading into the shadows, he
argues that what he just did was somehow noble.
Tw o ugly options. This pernicious strategy is particularly well
suited for keeping us off track. It's known as a Sucker's Choice.
In order to justify an especially sordid behavior, we suggest that
we're caught between two distasteful options. Either we can be
honest and attack our spouse, or we can be kind and withhold
the truth. Either we can disagree with the boss to help make a
better choice-and get shot for it-or we can remain quiet,
starve the pool, and keep our job. Pick your poison.