Someone who thinks the world is always cheating him is right. He

Eric Hoffer, the longshoreman-philosopher who spoke with the clarity of a man shaped by labor and reflection, once declared: “Someone who thinks the world is always cheating him is right. He is missing that wonderful feeling of trust in someone or something.” In these words lies a profound truth about the human condition. For the one who constantly suspects deceit, who believes every hand extended is a trick and every smile a mask, is indeed cheated — not by others, but by his own heart. He is robbed of the sweetness of trust, which is one of the deepest joys of existence.

The ancients knew this wisdom well. The Stoics taught that suspicion corrodes the soul, filling it with bitterness and unrest. To live always in fear of betrayal is to deny oneself peace. Aristotle himself spoke of friendship as the crown of life, and friendship is nothing without trust. To suspect endlessly is to live in exile, cut off from the noblest pleasures of human fellowship. Thus Hoffer’s words echo their teaching: distrust may guard you from disappointment, but it also walls you off from joy.

History provides a clear mirror. Consider the reign of Joseph Stalin, whose endless suspicion of betrayal led him to purge allies, generals, even friends. His fear of being cheated consumed him, until he trusted no one. In this way, he was indeed “cheated,” for he robbed himself of loyalty, companionship, and peace of mind. His rule survived, but his heart lived in torment. Suspicion became his prison.

By contrast, think of the trust between explorers Lewis and Clark during their perilous journey across the uncharted American frontier. Each man had to rely completely upon the other. They placed their lives in the hands of friendship and faith, and that trust gave them the courage to face dangers together. Had they lived in suspicion, doubting one another at every turn, their great expedition would have collapsed in fear and discord. Instead, their trust gave them strength, and their legacy endures as proof of its power.

Children of tomorrow, understand this: suspicion will whisper to you that it keeps you safe, but in truth it starves you of life’s richest nourishment. To trust is to risk, yes — to risk disappointment, to risk pain. But it is also to open yourself to love, to loyalty, to fellowship. The one who closes himself in suspicion may avoid betrayal, but he also avoids joy. And what life is left when joy is absent?

The lesson is plain: cultivate trust, even though it is sometimes broken. For each betrayal you may suffer, there will be countless blessings that trust alone can bring. A marriage without trust is a cage. A friendship without trust is a shadow. A society without trust is chaos. To trust wisely is to live fully, to open the heart not to illusions, but to the real possibility of goodness.

Practical action flows from this wisdom. Begin with small trusts: share your thoughts with those who have proven themselves, delegate tasks, rely on others in daily matters. Allow yourself to believe in the good, not naively, but courageously. And when your trust is broken, do not retreat forever into suspicion. Learn, forgive when possible, and trust again. For to close the door of trust is to close the door to life itself.

So let it be remembered: “Someone who thinks the world is always cheating him is right. He is missing that wonderful feeling of trust in someone or something.” The true theft is not done by others, but by the self who refuses to trust. Live not in suspicion, but in the brave joy of trust, and you will taste the sweetness of life that no cynic will ever know.