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The industry of hope

There is expectation in hope that things will change.  Every personal and social issue that is not going according to plan, all the adversities and the misfortunes, are placed on the anticipation that eventually, things will change.  The conviction for the change is hope.  Hope is a feeling based on emotions, irrational and inexplicable.

Hope is a refuge for those whose lives are wronged and feel unable to do anything but to hope.  Millions of people hope for better days, better health, better relationships, better lives.  This hope keeps expectations high even when you are told of the opposite. 

Consider the following dialogues:

“The environment is changing, global warming, the pandemic and the economic recession.  It looks like we’ve had it!  We are one meteor away from a catastrophic event”.  “I agree with what you say, but I hope that despite all these we will find a way out of all these.”   

 “Your crime is too serious; looks like you are going to jail”.  “I hope the judge is lenient and maybe I will not go to prison”     

“The tests indicate that your health has deteriorated, it is unlikely to change; I am afraid you have only a few months to live”.  “I hope that God will listen to my prayer and cure me”.

“I do not love you anymore, I want to leave you!  “Don’t break my heart; I hope you change your mind.”

All these have one thing in common.  The respondent’s hope for something, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.  This unwavering conviction comes at a price!  The entire world is built on an industry of hope.  Institutions, systems, “experts” and many more who profit from the misfortune of others.  One of the main benefactors in this industry is undoubtedly religious institutions and belief experts. 

Some years ago, in one of my trips, in found myself in a monastery that has a tradition of snakes appearing on the day of the ascension of the Virgin Mary.  The revellers regard it as a sign of good fortune and favour from her grace.  I was in the monastery on a different day, when a group of boisterous Russian tourists were trying to buy some grace.  The lady in the church was clear; a small bottle of holy water 3 euros, a small bottle of oil 5 euros.  There were bigger sizes and of course for more certainty of hope, a purchase of both is indicated.  Since then, it got me thinking; what is the price of hope? 

Faced with a terminal disease, how much would any of us will pay to live a little bit longer?  The question is merely rhetorical, because each of us is likely to pay according to what they can afford.  There are those who may care less for themselves, but are willing to sacrifice anything for someone special; or a great idea. 

Since the discovery of electricity, Victorian scientists dispelled the expertise of those charlatans that spoke with the dead and commuted with the spirits. Even though there have been mounting evidence against them, their industry of hope is still booming. People like to hope. They embrace its positive message. After all Dum Spiro Spero.*

There is of course the other side; Nikos Kazantzakis famously said; “I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.” It is liberating not to hope, but it is very difficult to achieve. Personally, despite experiencing negative situations, and even after meeting some naysayers armed with a sour face in life, I will never stop hoping that people are better inside and they can change and embrace their better selves. My hope, I fear, is incurable.

*While I breathe, I hope

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