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On my other blog, Time Traveler’s Daughter, I’ve
been doing a series called “The Last Janitor”. Sort of a
Star-Wars-meets-Adventures-in-Odyssey-meets-John-C-Wright-reviews thing.
Initially, I wanted to post a full episode every Friday, just like his Last
Straw series. I shortened it to every other Friday. Then once a month. Even by
that, I’m months behind.
True, I suffer from chronic procrastinitus.
True, I’m about the slowest writer in the world, at least when it comes to
finishing things. But with this one, I think the real problem was that I just
did not realize how much time it would take to finish full episodes. I utterly
underestimated the time and effort it would take, as well as my own slowness. I
underestimated the real meaning of an undertaking like this.
Of course, I’m not the first in history to do so.
Very few people realize quite how vital the things they do may be someday. Take
Britain, for instance. When the British Parliament convened to discuss the
Stamp Act, they vastly underestimated the importance, the momentousness of the
occasion. To them, it was just another day at the office. Look at that, another
tax to be passed. What joy. Oh, it’s on the Americas this time, is it? That’s a
new one. Is that a fly on Lord Chucksterfield’s nose?
Then again, it’s hardly likely that anyone could
have estimated that it would start the American colonies on a path to
independence. Some things just can’t be guessed.
But what came next should probably have tipped
their estimation the other way. Britain’s colonies across the pond rebelled.
They didn’t want Parliament to be able to tax them dry over paper and tea. They
wanted to govern themselves, as they had generally done up to that point (while
still being royal subjects). If this right was not acknowledged, they would be
royal subjects no longer.
Yet even with the obvious revolt—with at least some
idea of the moment of these events—Britain managed to underestimate the
colonies. King George III “made up his unfortunate German mind to the coercion
and humiliation of the discontented colonists.” So a small army was sent. Not
to crush a possible danger, mind you, but to deal with a few unruly factions.
Because of this miscalculation, the
recently-appointed General Washington was able to pull together an army of his
own. And he was not one to underestimate. He knew that if his army was crushed,
rebellious populations would be the only remnant of their cause. And Britain
could easily quell those. So Washington’s main goal was to keep his army alive
to fight another day—a goal he met, time and time again.
After a few years, Britain realized her critical
error, and sent an army that might have been adequate to its task. That is, if
it had been sent in time. But by the time it was even thought of, America was
beginning to gain further allies; France, for one. America had grown in power,
and Britain had diminished in it, due to war with France and Spain.
Finally, in Yorktown, the commander of the British
forces, General Charles Cornwallis, was forced to surrender. Washington and a
French general, Rochambeau, had him sandwiched. Upon his surrender, the war
ended. And Britain had to recognize the independence of her thirteen
revolted—and highly underestimated—colonies.
So you see, counting the cost is essential to any
venture—most obviously when it comes to fighting a war or running a country,
but also in commonplace tasks. When you cook a meal, you have to put together
the right amount of ingredients, and cook them just the right amount of time.
When you go to work, you have to make sure you get there on time, and do your
job properly. When you do your schoolwork, you have to make sure it doesn’t
take all your time, but enough to get it done. We all know how important
it is. “For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first,
and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?” (Luke 14:28)
And yet still we underestimate. We underestimate
difficulty, time, opponents, and our own inability and weakness. We
underestimate the importance of our actions, and the depth of the consequences.
We underestimate the seriousness of others. And the results of any one of these
can be devastating.
Of course, my Last Janitor series isn’t exactly a
recalcitrant country. But since I did underestimate the time and effort it
would take to post entire episodes at once, I’ll have to compensate for the
error. So far, I’ve started posting the scenes individually from the start.
That’s on another site (see here). By the time I get caught up, I think
enough Fridays will have passed for me to have more completed. No harm done.
Still, other miscalculations can be far more
affecting. Britain’s in the latter half of the 18th century is a
good e.g., but not the greatest one. No, that greatest one goes back much
further. It goes back to some very simple decisions, at a time when most things
were very simple. A man underestimated the need to instruct and guard his wife.
A woman underestimated the cunning of the Enemy. The first two people of the
world underestimated God—His seriousness in His commands, His power to enforce
the consequences He set for disobedience, and His knowledge of what they had
done.
And underestimation can spell downfall.
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