the world was given to us, we were young, 
and standing there upon the shore of future greatness 
(just our due) as waves took shape 
and all the seas applauded us; our names 
where whispered on the wind of highest hope 

the world was given to us, yet we fell, 
in secret rooms, and offices, and homes 
where johnny walker red was our cologne 
and we could not remember why we stood 
that morning on the shore or why we thought 
that we'd be any different

I am not quite the oldest person where I work, but I’m pretty close. I love working with younger people. They are frequently idealistic, and idealism is a wonderful thing, although I have to say, it often makes a better fuel than a compass.

I have a group of friends that I grew up with. We don’t get together as often as we used to. I still see us as being young, but those days passed long ago. I don’t remember us as being particularly hopeful or idealistic when we were younger, although I’m sure we had our share of that. I remember us as mostly being more concerned with mundane things: getting jobs, seeing the world, trying new things, finding love.

I was thinking about idealism after the recent conclusion of the trial of Sam Bankman-Fried, who was at one time the world’s richest idealist. It turns out that you can rearrange the letters of “effective altruism” and spell “the ends justifies the means”. I mean, you have to add a few letters, but a few lines of computer code allow you to transfer those over with no one being the wiser.

Listen: idealism is important, and should be nourished and encouraged. However, we should be careful not to deify it.