OK, so here is my answer to the fourth of the five questions I promised I would answer.

This one is tricky. Not because I find it hard to answer but because it produces an inner conflict in all of us.

Question 4. When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards and just do what you know is right?

Answer: Now.

Why?

Well to start with see the answer to question two above.

Secondly because in my view it is more ethical. Risk and reward imply a conscious choice to do something which is not optimal and not what your inner morality says should be. And shouldn’t we all be following our inner ethics?

My belief is that we all have that inner morality, even underlying all our religious, political and sociological superstructure of beliefs; and underlying our selfish desires. It is nothing to do with man-made constructs of belief; it’s to do with an inner respect of life.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. And it certainly doesn’t mean I always get it right — much as I would like to. We all end up making greater or lesser compromises for a whole variety of reasons. But if we’re true to our underlying ethics we likely shouldn’t except perhaps in the pursuance of purely staying alive (and maybe sometimes not even then).

Do murderers (think, say, the Krays) really deep, deep down not know what they’re doing is wrong? Do bankers who make vast profits on the back of screwing peoples’ mortgage rates and businesses not understand, deep down, the lack of ethics in what they’re doing? I feel sure they do know these things. They may be brainwashed so they can’t allow that knowledge out, but I think it is there somewhere. Had they listened to that inner ethics early on maybe they wouldn’t have ended up where they did. And maybe the world would be a better place. Who knows.

Ultimately I think there is good, ethical, behaviour in all of us if we can but recognise it. But yes, that can be hard because in other ways we are wired to be selfish — because being selfish is a good personal survival strategy and at the first level evolution and “survival of the fittest” mean that we have to strive to survive and produce offspring. And remembering Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs that is deeper rooted than our sense of ethics.

So yes, it’s hard and can be uncomfortable, but in a society where we don’t have to literally fight for food and shelter surely we should strive to rise above our “animal instincts” and listen to our inner morality and ethics.

Perhaps it is best summed up in the words of my late friend Jim Duggan: Let your conscience be your guide. Not your ego or your bank balance.

And I fail just as much as the next person!

OK, so here’s my answer to the second of the five questions I promised I would answer.

Yet again it isn’t going to be an easy or comfortable answer. Not an easy answer for me to formulate. And as you’ll see it’s not a comfortable answer for any of us; I’m as guilty as anyone. So …

Question 2. If you had the opportunity to get one message across to a large group of people, what would your message be?

Just one message? How big can that message be? Well anyway here’s something like what I think I would say.

Stop fucking up the planet. Rebalance and restructure everything (see my previous thoughts). Treat the planet and it’s inhabitants, collectively and individually, as you would wish it to treat you — gently, with kindness, respect and consideration.

In a way it is what the Dalai Lama would call compassion. Compassion: the sensitive and sustainable treatment of the planet and all its inhabitants, from the human species, through animals and plants to the oceans, the air we breathe and the rocks beneath our feet.

It doesn’t say you can’t dig coal, but to do it sensitively without despoiling the whole landscape.

It doesn’t say you can’t chop down a tree, but to do it sustainably: plant a replacement tree.

It doesn’t mean you can never eat meat again, just eat less of it and grow food sustainably with grazing animals on more marginal land and arable using the best land.

It doesn’t say you can’t catch fish, but again do it so that you don’t rape the seas until there are no viable fish remaining.

And it doesn’t say you can’t smelt iron, but you should do as much as you can to reduce the concomitant pollution.

Just think about what you’re doing and the long-term implications.

Do as you would be done by.

That’s all. But it is so hard!

A couple of days ago I posed five questions. Five seemingly simple questions which turn out to be quite hard when you actually have to answer them and which make you think about both who you are and what you stand for.

And I promised that I would answer them, one at a time, over the coming weeks.

What’s more, being nearer to a control freak than I care to be, I’ll answer them in sequence.

So here are some thoughts on Question 1.

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

Well this turns out to be a bit like “how long is a piece of string?” or perhaps mre accurately “think of a number, double it etc.”

Let’s start with the easy bit first. Chronologically I’m 61½ years old. But …

In outlook I’m probably more like a grumpy old git of 80+.

Intellectually I’d say I’m where I should have been at about 40, had I actually woken up in time, instead of about 20 years too late. In terms of intellectual thinking I’ve probably made much more progress in the last 5 years than I did between 24 and 44. That’s partly because it wasn’t until my mid-40s that I started to rise above the awful pessimism exuded by my father.

Mentally — socially — in terms of where I see myself, I doubt I’ve ever got much past 25 and certainly not past 30. But then I bet if most people were honest they’d say that inside they’re stuck somewhere in their 20s.

Oh and emotionally? Well I can easily be a 6 year old! I’ve just learned not to have tantrums in public: it frightens the muppets.

In some ways that’s quite scary in that I could chameleon myself to be almost any age I choose. In other ways it’s good because it means I don’t so easily get stuck in a rut.

So now, who else is going to own up?