​IT HURTS WHEN I GO LIKE THIS

Wisdom Wherever You Find It
 
The best revenge is not to be like that.   Marcus Aurelius
 
It was Henny Youngman who said, “A patient says to a doctor, ‘Doc, it hurts when I go like this.’  And the doctor says, ‘Then don’t go like that.’” I know better than to try to take apart a joke to see why it is funny.  Fortunately, I have Marcus Aurelius to analyze instead.
 
The quotation is actually in Greek, which means that I am working in translation.  In my attempt to be certain was at least close to the original, I looked at a number of sources, each of which put the translator’s own little spin on the original.  Most of them wanted the observation to sound more like Marcus Aurelius and less like Henny Youngman.  But the one that splits the difference (by using archaic English) is this: “The best way of avenging thyself is not to do likewise.”  In other words, if it hurt when someone did that, don’t do that.
 
It may be a little heretical to say I like this version better than the aphorism that emerged from Jewish and Christian sources roughly at the same time in history.  Jesus phrased it positively: Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.  Hillel phrased it preventatively: That which is distasteful to you, do not unto others.  (Disclaimer: those are also translations.)  But Marcus Aurelius acknowledges what is really part of the human condition. People who have been wronged want revenge.
 
Revenge is a peculiar emotion that has motivated bad history and great literature, but in the end it is imitative.  The person who seeks revenge wants to preserve, even intensify, something hurtful and outrageous.  In dispassionate moments, most people would likely come around to the notion that nothing but private satisfaction is gained by returning wound for wound, and even that satisfaction is short-lived.  But in the throes of injury, especially when it is intentionally inflicted, the victim thinks from the place of pain rather than wisdom.
 
In fact, the more popular translation of this Greek phrase is “The best revenge is not to be like your enemy.”  By substituting the offender – presumed to be an enemy – for the offending behavior, the sufferer animates the pain by giving it a body and life force, which can then be eliminated or, for the principled Stoic, spared.  It’s almost as if Henny Youngman’s patient replies, “You’re a quack, and I am going to give you a bad Yelp review.”  Ruins the joke.
 
The notion that the best revenge is to delegitimate the bad behavior is, to my mind, a huge step forward.  I could say that unlike tit-for-tat, taking the high road gives me the sense that I am improving the world around me by modeling a kinder, gentler way to comport myself.  I am not that noble.  Rather, it allows me to feel smug, which is not a particularly admirable character trait, but it keeps me out of jail.  Also, it actually does improve the world.  Revenge may be organic, but it pollutes the human family the way carbon emissions make life more difficult for everyone.
 
Whether you take your cues from Marcus, Jesus, or Hillel (or even Henny), the formula for living a good life is to reduce the suffering in this world, not only for yourself and those you love, and not only for people you never knew, but for the people who did you dirt.  Might that latter group feel they got away with something and try it again?  It’s a possibility, and maybe even a likelihood (if I am feeling a little cynical).  The resolution to a grievance is the pursuit of justice, not revenge.
 
I have plotted revenge many times in my life.  If you don’t hold me to it, I may admit I attempted it once or twice.  But honestly, all it does is renew the original pain, and what I always really wanted was for the pain to go away.  That’s why the best revenge is not to be like that.
 
Take my advice.  Please.

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