I should prefer to have a politician who regularly went to a
I should prefer to have a politician who regularly went to a massage parlour than one who promised a laptop computer for every teacher.
The words of A. N. Wilson, “I should prefer to have a politician who regularly went to a massage parlour than one who promised a laptop computer for every teacher,” may at first seem strange, almost jarring, to the unprepared ear. Yet beneath their wit and provocation lies a teaching worthy of the ancients: that it is far better to know a man’s weaknesses openly than to endure the ruinous vanity of false promises. For the massage parlour here is not a celebration of vice, but a symbol of human frailty — the visible flaw of flesh and appetite. The laptop for every teacher, however, is not generosity, but deceit clothed in fine words, a promise never meant to be fulfilled, designed only to seduce the crowd.
The ancients knew that politicians were often divided between those who showed their failings plainly and those who disguised them in honeyed speech. Which is more dangerous to the people — the leader whose indulgences are clear to all, or the one who crafts illusions, raising false hope, and corrupting the trust between ruler and ruled? Wilson, in his sharp tongue, declares his choice: better the sinner who sins in daylight than the hypocrite who corrupts in shadow. For a flaw that is known can be forgiven, but a lie that misleads the people poisons the whole city.
Consider the tale of Alcibiades of Athens, that brilliant, reckless statesman. His lusts and vanities were notorious; his scandalous behavior shocked the sober citizens, and many despised him. Yet, for all his vices, they were visible to all, and his talents as a leader were real. Far worse was the flatterer who promised reforms he could not deliver, who stirred the people with visions of abundance and left only ruin. Such men, cloaked in virtue, toppled the democracy of Athens into chaos. Alcibiades was flawed, yes, but he was no phantom conjurer of false gifts.
The massage parlour in Wilson’s words is an emblem of indulgence — of a weakness of flesh that harms mostly the self. The laptop for every teacher is an emblem of false reform, of the empty gesture designed to purchase loyalty with illusions. One vice is visible, petty, perhaps even pitiable; the other is cloaked in nobility, and therefore deadly. Better the leader who errs in the body than the one who corrupts the spirit of the people with lies.
And this lesson is not confined to politics. In every walk of life, there are those who stumble honestly, revealing their flaws openly, and those who hide their selfishness under cloaks of benevolence. Which friend do you prefer? The one who confesses weakness with candor, or the one who flatters you with promises and abandons you when the time of testing comes? In family, in friendship, in the councils of nations, the teaching is the same: candor, though it may reveal imperfection, is safer than the poison of falsehood.
Therefore, let us not be dazzled by glittering promises, nor deceived by fine speeches that promise paradise with no labor. The wise discern between indulgence that is human and forgivable, and dishonesty that undermines trust itself. A man who reveals his failings can be corrected, advised, or at least measured truly. A man who deals in illusions cannot be trusted at all. This is the eternal danger of leadership: not sin, but pretense; not weakness, but hypocrisy.
The lesson for us, children of tomorrow, is clear: do not place your faith in promises that sound too sweet, nor judge leaders by the shine of their words, but by the truth of their deeds. Prefer the one who is flawed yet transparent, to the one who is polished yet hollow. In your own life, live not with masks but with honesty; admit your weaknesses before they fester into lies. In your work, promise little but deliver much. In your friendships, speak truth rather than flattery. In this way, you will walk the straight road, the one that generations before us have known to be the path of trust, dignity, and enduring strength.
Thus, remember Wilson’s paradox: the politician who sins openly is less dangerous than the one who deceives nobly. For the former is merely a man; the latter becomes a corrupter of nations. Choose truth, even when it reveals weakness, and you will stand on ground that no storm can sweep away.
AAdministratorAdministrator
Welcome, honored guests. Please leave a comment, we will respond soon