How we rejoice in the triumphs – and the long and brilliantly successful careers – of Mo Farah and Usain Bolt. The world of athletics will be a poorer place without them. And how thankful we are to HRH the Duke of Edinburgh as he undertakes the last of 22,219 solo Royal appointments spread over 70 years. The Edinburgh Festival, by coincidence, also celebrates 70 years of existence with this year’s estimated 50,000 performances of over 3,000 shows in 300 venues. Would you like to be there? Probably. But would you like to be one of the thousands of stage performers? Well, I doubt it.
Whatever you may think of President Trump – or Theresa May, Philip Hammond or Boris Johnson – do you really think that you personally would do a better job? Most people would, I think, run a mile.
I was amused by a BBC report this week that whereas male bosses of FTSE 100 companies are averaging £4.5 million pay this year, female bosses manage only about £2.6 million. Lucky them, I’d say. Or are they? What do they have to sacrifice in their ordinary family and private lives in order to justify that kind of money? And do they have any time to enjoy it? Think of the sheer stress of running a company that size. Think of the hassles.
Few of us on this world have got what it takes to be a Bolt, a Farah, a Prince Philip, a big boss of an industrial company, or a stage performer. Few of us could (or would want to be) great politicians. So what is it that makes these people what they are? Are they blessed with huge innate talent? Do they inherit energy, or skills, determination or abilities which are denied to the rest of us? Possibly, but not to such a huge extent as their achievements might suggest. Most people, at least in a country like ours, have reasonably equivalent intelligence, drive and ability. There has to be some degree of ‘nature’ in it – and some people are demonstrably blessed with particular stature, or brains, or musical or athletic ability. But is that really enough to set them apart from birth? Surely not.
So it must be nurture. Spotting some kind of innate talent or ability, enthusiastic or ambitious parents or trainers push their charges beyond what any normal human being would be expected to do. Hundreds of hours of gruelling training creates a mental and physical strength or ability to allow them to perform at their very best.
Or is it luck? Being the right person in the right place at the right time? Of course there’s a lot of that in it. That certainly applies, for example, to the Duke of Edinburgh. (Although by reputation he would probably say he was “the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong moment.”) No matter what our innate ability, no matter what our determination and training, we need a good following wind, and a guiding star to maximise our performance at it.
So as we contemplate our betters – in all of these areas including politics – just let us pause for a moment and think: “Could we do it? Would we want to do it?” They may not be exactly what we want, but are they not still to be admired for what they do? Nature, or nurture, or luck. But alongside that there must be a good dose of dedication to duty – determination to do what is best, perhaps to fulfil some kind of destiny; to put to one side the things that we ourselves might want to do in favour of what we believe to be right, or our obligation, or duty. I suspect that that one word – duty – says more about HRH than the rest of it put together. There is a lesson there for all of us.