This is why I will never be a politician. I’m not good at this.
In one pivotal scene in Tarantino’s Django Unchained, a odious slave-owner demands that an unlikely hero shakes his hand. The two have just reached an agreement after lengthy negotiations through which each has fought to have the last laugh. Lethal tension hangs over the scene; all that is needed is this handshake to seal the deal and for the good guys to walk out, mission complete.
But our hero can’t do it. He delivers a long, steady look, a raised hand, and a bullet through the slaver’s heart. "Sorry," our guy shrugs nonchalantly. "I couldn't resist."
An apocalyptic gunfight ensues, and everything goes badly wrong. Our handshake-refuser doesn’t survive the scene.
My immediate response to this was frustration (oh, for god’s sake). This progressed to disbelief (no one would have done that), and then to annoyance (how ridiculous that he did that). They had been on the verge of walking out, job done – until pride and vanity got in the way. Counterproductive pride and catastrophic vanity and a retributive anger that should have all been secondary considerations to the end goal, but which led instead to a pyrrhic victory.
But, afterwards, a niggling feeling lay with me. That sometimes what is done, or not done, is just as important as the result, as the consequence. I'm still thinking about this.