“In God We Trust” proclaims U.S. currency. “All others pay cash,” advises the cynic in an old rejoinder.
Who Do You Trust? was a television game show from 1957-63 hosted by Johnny Carson. I don’t remember much about the show although I think it involved married couples. I can imagine that the set-up involved presenting contestants with situations or choices requiring that person to select the right or true option in order to win prizes. Perhaps it presaged the popular “reality” TV of current fare.
I only recently learned, via Google, that Who Do You Trust? is the name of an album released in 2019 by Papa Roach. I have no conjecture to offer about Mr. Roach’s song, only questions about his choice of surnames.
I was driving a two-lane road recently when I realized that every one of us on that road was in the act of trusting the others not to cross the center line or turn in front of our car abruptly or do anything that might upset the expected result that we would all stay in our lanes at reasonable speeds and distances from each other, arriving safely at our destinations.
Shortly thereafter, we boarded an airplane, bound for New Zealand, a 9-hour flight over the Pacific Ocean, How many acts of trust did it take for us to feel confident that the plane would land safely in Auckland? Manufacturers, maintenance and mechanical personnel, pilots, flight attendants, food preparers, air traffic controllers and more; our confidence was based upon our expectation that they would all do their job well.
I’m quite comfortable trusting God in the larger sense but I don’t think the Divine services airplanes. Trust rests in the hands of humans, too.
I read a novel recently about a young woman who, for a variety of reasons, had closed herself off to others, trusting her own judgment about the insufficiencies of others to do what she believes to be right. I’ve known a person who had a similar suspicion about everyone else’s motives and competencies. I wouldn’t want to live like that.
But, People of a Certain Age, do you sense, as do I, that a significant number of the people around us in our daily lives are more cautious about trusting others than before? Does aging contribute to a lessening of trust, an erosion that results from experience? Are we in that group? Is this a less trustworthy time in history?
I am the beneficiary of a set of stable relationships in my life, beginning with Judy and extending back through my family, my friends, my jobs. Trust comes easily for me because of such stability, perhaps even making me too ready to trust for my own good. In this, I believe, I am fortunate.
What have been the residuals endured by my friends when their experiences have included broken trust?
Political leaders used to speak of public office as a public trust, viewing their offices as contributions to a public good. Our national history is populated with people who upheld that belief—and others who did not—but the language isn’t even used much anymore.
How many political leaders have even tried to articulate a concept of public good, and how many people believe that the office belongs to the public, held in trust until one’s term has ended? That language seems quite elevated when compared to political discourse these days.
One political leader in our lifetimes referred specifically to trust when describing his approach to working with the Soviet Union. Remember President Reagan quoting a Russian proverb, “trust but verify?”
Such caution might be prudent in foreign affairs. After all, every nation acts in what its leader believe to be the best interest of that nation (or himself), and an occasional check on the history of that nation’s abiding by its word in diplomacy does not seem out of line.
A few recent tragic helicopter crashes, on Kauai and in California, notwithstanding, if we had to live our lives constantly verifying, would we really ever trust anything or anybody?
It is axiomatic that, once trust has been broken, rebuilding it, if even possible, can take a lifetime. In the novel I noted above, the starting point for building trust was simple human kindness provided consistently, over time, no strings attached. It required patience and dependability.
We can never be 100% sure that the other driver will stay in his lane or that the airplane mechanic has fixed every flaw. We can take comfort in the percentages, though. Most drivers do what we expect them to do. Most planes don’t crash. Most foods marked safe for human consumption are. We are in the habit of trusting.
What the television program and Papa Roach remind us, though, is that the decision whether to trust or not is ours to make.
A starting point is to be trustworthy. Trustworthiness can spread.
Trust me on that.
Daniel E. White
February 17, 2020