Calgary, November 2019
That is the name of the play, written be the French playwright Félicien Marceau, which I saw while still a student. The protagonist, who narrates the story, compares the relationship between an individual and society to an egg. Either you are inside the egg, safely protected by the eggshell, and you can become an important person who makes far-reaching decisions and who is admired by his associates. Or, you are outside of the egg, and anybody from the inside can readily manipulate you as he pleases. There are no rules how to get inside the egg, the only thing which counts is to successfully enter it. At the beginning of the play, the protagonist is outside of the egg and would very much like to get in. The play ends with the protagonist entering the egg, while his friend, who interfered with his plans, is accused of a murder which he did not commit.
I always think about that play when I run into my old friend Martin. We meet occasionally at various computer conferences and exchange few words. Long time ago we were great friends. We both worked for an Information Technology division of a large oil company; he was the project leader of a group of programmers, and I was in charge of computer operations. However, the root of our friendship was in our common avocation: We both loved mountains, especially skiing. We did long, beautiful trips on the glaciers of the nearby Rocky Mountains, enjoying the sun, the dark blue sky and the spectacular views.
Unfortunately, nothing in this world lasts forever and our ski weekends were no exception. The I.T. division of our company was reorganized, we got a new boss, and the saying that all changes are always changes for worse, got confirmed. The new boss, who knew little about computing, came up with a ludicrous idea: we will write a program to analyze geological surveys, in order to help to locate oil deposits. The fact that such programs already existed and could be bought for a fraction of the cost of developing a new one, he either did not know or did not care. His reply to all the complaints and suggestions was: "Our program will be better".
This was bad news for the programmers. On the top of their normal workload, they had to write this useless program. That meant long hours of overtime, some working weekends and endless meetings. Most of the programmers grudgingly accepted the new situation, but Martin was very disturbed. "He is as stubborn as a mule," Martin once said after he staggered from yet another meaningless meeting. However, some benefit came out of it, our boss got a new name: "Mule". Another time, after one particularly unpleasant confrontation, Martin said in frustration: "I would be a better department head", and everybody agreed with him.
Obviously, the mood in our department was depressed, and our newly named Mule was not at all popular. Therefore, I was very surprised when Martin told me that he was going skiing with Mule. I could not understand it, but then I thought that maybe Martin wanted to climb the corporate ladder through his boss.
"So, how is Mule’s skiing?" I asked Martin on Monday at work.
"About the same as his management of our department." sneered Martin.
Nevertheless, Martin went skiing with him several more times and towards the end of the winter he shocked me by declaring that he was going with him for a long glacier trip, the one we usually did as a highlight of our ski season. It consisted of covering a distance of almost 50 km, with an elevation gain of about 2,000 meters, and it demanded all of our stamina. The excursion started with a long climb to a path, then it continued climbing to a hut and from there it was still a long way to the summit. In good weather the trip usually took us 12 hours and I could not believe that Mule could sustain such an effort. To make the whole thing even more impossible, the weather forecast for that weekend called for strong chinook winds. In a way I thought this was good news, it will give them an excuse for not doing it. But, on Monday neither Martin nor Mule came to work. Late at night there was a ring at my door and there was Martin, his face frostbitten, and he looked 10 years older. I could not believe my eyes.
"What on Earth happened? "I asked horrified.
"We started one hour later than normal, and the climb to the col took him three hours longer than it takes us. The weather on the glacier was horrible and while descending from the col, we got lost in the fog. It started to get dark, so I found a crevasse and we stayed there overnight. In the morning Mule was so exhausted that he could not move. I gave him the rest of the food and went for help. It took me the whole day to find the way back, and when I got to the Mountain Rescue office, it was dark again. Now here I am."
I could not believe it. How could Martin, with all his experience in the mountains, allow such a situation to happen?
"When you saw the weather on the glacier, why did you not turn back?" I asked.
"You know how vain Mule is. He wanted to show me and also himself that he could do it."
"You said that from the col you descended down, but to get to the hut, you have to keep climbing. You must have known that going down you will miss the hut!"
Martin was quiet for a long time, and then said: "I knew it, but he did not."
Chinook lasted another three days and Mountain Rescue found our Mule, frozen and covered by snow, about two days later. Shortly after that Martin become the new head of the department and indeed, he was much better than Mule. I stayed with the company for few more months, then changed jobs and lost the contact with Martin. Occasionally we meet at various computer conferences and I know that Martin is now the Vice President of I. T. services. He became an important person who makes far-reaching decisions. We do not go skiing together anymore; he has no time. Martin is definitively inside the egg.