Two weeks ago today, the man who was my manager for about 9 years before I moved to France was found dead in his house. In the time since, I have found out that his death was voluntarily chosen and self-inflicted (he was far too conscientious and intelligent to accidentally overdose on painkillers). Given all that I have found out about his health and how it has declined in the 18 months since his quasi-involutary retirement, his decision was not an irrational one.
He had been in pain the entire 12 years I knew him because of an accident in his youth, and the last time I saw him, about four months ago, he said that he wished his retirement had been a gradual ramp-down rather than the abrupt ending of his contact with the research that he had spent the vast majority of his life working on. The quasi-involuntary nature of his retirement was imposed by the company for which he had worked for over 30 years, inflicted by the exigencies of the ever urgent pursuit of the short-term profit and the accompanying disregard for history and deep analysis of past and potential future contribution. Even in his role as a manager he stayed current enough that he was able to add significant insights to the newest areas of research we pursued. Despite his extreme intelligence and rapid thinking, he was still a compassionate and kind man. This is an incredibly difficult feat for those truly gifted as he was.
The precipitous ending of the work component of his life, perhaps the largest and most rewarding part, coupled with what I perceived as a lack of deep human connections (he had several contacts, including many of my former colleagues who went to visit him regularly and took him to the doctor when he needed it… unfortunately for me, I did not maintain that contact with him, just as I have not maintained it with many of my formerly close friends) resulted in a set of circumstances that when he became so incapacitated that he could no longer even reply to email it becomes apparent that the most rational decision may not align with what those who haven’t experienced that physical pain and emotional isolation would understand in the least.
I can relate in a very deep way to his conclusion, and many who know me would be uncomfortable with my comprehension. Discomfort with death inherent in our culture coupled with their own limited experience (resulting in limited empathy) create their embarrassing uncomprehension and show to me how truly disconnected I am from most people.
Once I took pride in my march to a different drummer, but as I grow older, the march becomes more tiresome and the loneliness becomes more intense.
I never thought I would feel this way, but there are some things that I am sorry are within my comprehension.
Here is to you, Phil. After my father, you were the man I most admired and aspired to emulate.
The numbers of the good ones are dwindling, and we are being overrun by the mediocre and the idiots.
