To hell with good intentions

You could stock the corner grocery store with the boxes and cans of food surrounding my desk. Within arm’s distance from me are the remains of protein-packed Greek yogurt, scattered multi-grain cereal, shriveled baby carrots, and muddy coffee filter after muddy coffee filter. These are the brave soldiers who give themselves up in the epic battle against end of semester frenzy, desperately consumed during the ten-minute breaks that punctuate these Tazmanian devil days of furious work. What logic drives us to push ourselves to achieve under-eye shades of purple and blue, blurry brains, and exhaustion in every limb? How can I justify desk-side dinners and veins flowing with caffeine? This extreme reality we find ourselves in says “To hell with good intentions!”

This race against the clock exists because we push ourselves to jump the disparity between conceiving of an action and its actualization. After all, it is one thing to make the to-do list and another altogether to cross off the last item. So we continue to throw ourselves against the surf, struggling towards some personal goal that beckons through the fog of our sleep-deprived minds because there is some sustaining purpose, worthwhile enough to suffer under the heel of excessive work, which we tout as our rallying cry. I eat in rabid, hurried spurts while sitting at my desk because the future’s so bright. Motivation to nearly annihilate ourselves in the present for a future prospect is why we are still at Columbia; unable to move beyond desires and into the nitty-gritty of hard work, I would have jumped ship months ago.

Moving beyond good intentions is a skill, and this is the true Core curriculum. Every time we sit down to a Butler marathon paper-writing session, read hundreds of pages, or consistently show up for class, it becomes clear that dedicated, methodological work is the only way to get from concept to conclusion. So, to hell with good intentions, half-hearted attempts, and vague interest, and to hell with the mindsets which lull us into complacency. Good intentions, although not intrinsically bad, are dangerous. Wanting, wishing, and hoping construct the goals we strive for, therefore they prescribe the level of hard work we accomplish. But if these fantasies exist as a focal point instead of the road to this El Dorado of achievement, it is perilously easy to forget that we turn the gears of progress with elbow grease and sweat. “If we’re going to do it,”—I look around and see Butler residents saying with desk-camps rivaling my own—“We may as well give it all we’ve got.”
A friend of mine, a proud CUE-er, once handed me a copy of a speech called “To Hell With Good Intentions.” My mind was blown, which I think was the point. The speech, given in 1968 by philosopher and social critic Ivan Illich, was addressed to a group of American students holding a conference on international voluntary service and mission projects. “I am here to suggest that you voluntarily renounce exercising the power which being an American gives you,” Illich said to his unassuming audience, “I am here to challenge you to recognize your inability, your powerlessness and your incapacity to do the ‘good’ which you intend to do.” A chill settled over the room after these words, I’m sure. Illich threw good intentions into the faces of philanthropic audience, rejecting their illogical actions and impractical ideas and revealing that intentionality and reality are not one and the same. The speech smashed the rose-colored glasses with its bombshell message.

Here are two different arguments for banishing good intentions. Illich pleads for pragmatism, understanding the ramifications of our actions. I make a case for progressing from the realm of the potential into actualizing goals. There is a lot that differentiates the two, so much so that it may seem incongruous to have the two in conjunction. But I would point out the overlap in our Venn diagram of comparison, namely “action.” The message in both situations is that talk can be cheap, and what matters is what comes of the taking. We are what we make of ourselves and what we make with ourselves. This process starts with intentionality, but without action our goals wither like Langston Hughes’ dreams deferred.

Don’t do anything, our weary bodies plead. Rest yourself, the tension headache cries. Vegetate, our minds demand, exhausted from working. Yet we continue, sure that the long term successes are worth the immediate discomfort. This is the tactic that we must apply to all large goals, environmentalism included (you knew it was coming). Involvement is the wooer of good intentions, coaxing them into life. You know as well as I do that the work has to be done, and has to be done well. It is time to act.

Elizabeth Kipp-Giusti is a Columbia College sophomore majoring in religion with a concentration in human rights. She is a Columbia EcoRep. A Tree Grows in Morningside runs alternate Fridays. opinion@columbiaspectator.com