Does Intrigue Liberate?

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Sadly, many workplaces are hotbeds of politics, gossip and intrigue. It seems to be a part of “normal” everyday life. And to some extent or other we all engage in it. We want to know who are the “movers and shakers”, who is shagging who and who has made an arse of themselves at the Christmas do. Rumours get spread, people get spied upon and each tit-bit is assessed for the amount of potential leverage it may confer. And now we have electronic intrigue in which snippets are available on this lovely thing called the internet. We can monitor people we know, our exes, people we hold a grudge against, and that monitoring can quite quickly turn over into an obsessive stalking. I’ll make a statement here:

When we gather together to gossip about another being, that is bullying.

Of course, the degree of bullying depends upon motives. As a rule of thumb, the more secretive we are about something the dodgier the motive. We know when we are being “naughty” and are up to no good. We may say a whole bunch of shit about someone behind their back which we would never say to their face. This is duplicity. It is also intrigue. Now it doesn’t take a genius to work out that what is done under cover, in the shadows, is not light. It is pretty fucking simple, anything done in the darkness is a dark thing. Yet we all stray into this darkness and justify it to ourselves, maybe because there is some weird salacious pleasure in it.

It the darkness shadows grow.

This word secret is a big turn on for many. Victoria knew this when she made a lingerie line. Secrets entice and arouse, they draw people into the forbidden fruit. Some drool about secrets and secret knowledge, whether that be carnal or otherwise. How fascinated we are by secrets may vary, but words like cunning, although glamorous, are not uplifting. Look around you, who do you know is secretive, furtive and paranoid about having their secrets revealed. Maybe one of your male colleagues is wearing some of Victoria’s produce under his suit? We all have some secrets. But how many secrets we have relates to our degree of openness. Some have entire Swiss-bank-vaults-full-of-secrets. They are perennially afraid of being found out, ergo paranoid. To have secrets is to live in fear.

Duplicity and spying is a national fascination in the UK. Why else would we have James Bond as a kind of national hero? And now we have the putative poisoning of a former agent hitting the headlines. If you play intrigue games, you are going to get intrigue results.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

To set up a hypothetical example. In writing a blog, I have become “fair game”. Anyone can in principle read this blog, monitor it and otherwise stalk me, should they so wish. Only they would know their motives for so doing. Some sane people read this blog and act as grown-ups, in that from time to time they may “like” a post or follow me. This is harmless. And I do have a quick look at the blog of everyone who leaves a calling card, so to speak. There is no intrigue, people read some stuff, and should the whim take them, they press a button, simple. Others however may be visiting the blog for motives far less benign and for reasons of intrigue which may then give rise to gossip. There is very simple problem. On the off chance that they may wish to interact with me, how are they going to broach the subject of their intrigue? What might my response be? Will I be flattered? But when the immediacy of intrigue calls longer term thinking never enters in.

That is the problem with intrigue. It can become default behaviour. And if we visit intrigue upon others then by the law of reciprocity, a.k.a. Karma, so shall it be visited upon us.

One can make a case for state intrigue but as individuals we are not state. The only thing we can control is our own behaviours and orientations. We can choose not to play that game. And the more of us who do this, the less intrigue there will be. We can say; “no not me, I am not going to do that dodgy shit! I am not a perv.. I am not a salacious voyeur.”

It is up to each of us as to how we wish to live our lives.

So, I ask this question again:

Does intrigue ever bring liberation for us an individual cognate being?

If we stopped might we feel a whole lot better about ourselves?