I Learned Today That Obeying Our Elders Can Be Dangerous

“I Learned Today That Obeying Our Elders Can Be Dangerous” This was the feedback I received from a teenage boy, around sixteen, who had attended one of my classes and approached me afterward to get a book signed. I had asked him whether he had found any particular point striking in the class. His reply was certainly striking, though not quite in the way I had expected. During the class, I had narrated an incident from the Mahabharata in which the Pandavas lost everything in a gambling match. While explaining why Yudhishthira had agreed to gamble, I had mentioned that Dhritarashtra, who was both his elder and a father figure to him, had invited him. Out of respect for his elders and a desire to obey them, Yudhishthira had treated the invitation as an instruction. He had also expected Dhritarashtra to intervene and prevent matters from going too far. But Dhritarashtra did not intervene, and Yudhishthira ended up losing everything. The teenager had drawn a striking conclusion from this narration. I couldn’t make out from his expression whether he was being humorous or serious. Had he misunderstood my point, or was he using it as a license for rebellion? Smiling gently to soften my words, I replied, “That can be a dangerous conclusion to draw from my class.” He chuckled at my wordplay, and I continued. “Certainly, we shouldn’t follow anyone blindly. But the point I was making was much deeper. “Before concluding that we shouldn’t obey our elders, we need to consider whether we ourselves are as virtuous as Yudhishthira, and whether our elders are being influenced by someone as vicious as Duryodhana, who was influencing Dhritarashtra.” He nodded thoughtfully. “The Mahabharata depicts an exceptional situation to illustrate a larger problem: the danger of a one-dimensional understanding of dharma. If we reduce deciding what is right to just one consideration—such as obeying our elders—without examining our motivations, the circumstances, or the effects of that decision on our larger responsibilities, we may end up in trouble. “But that certainly doesn’t mean obedience to elders is dangerous in general. Our elders are usually our well-wishers, and they have more experience than we do. They often see a bigger picture that we cannot yet see. That’s why learning to respect and obey our elders is important, especially when we’re young. “Of course, if we have questions or reservations about what they’re asking us to do, we can seek clarification. Respecting our elders doesn’t require us to stop thinking. “At your age, you’re learning to think for yourself. Small children may obey without questioning, but it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect you to do the same. Still, you don’t have to go from the extreme of unquestioning obedience to self-righteous rebellion. You can seek a balance through candid communication that leads to well-reasoned conviction. Rather than swinging between obedience and rebellion, you can move from communication to conviction.” He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. I like that balance.” After getting his book signed, he left. The Two Stages of Education The exchange left me thinking about a danger every public speaker faces: being understood out of context—or worse, being quoted out of context. That danger has become greater in the age of social media, when passages from articles or clips from talks can be cut out and circulated without the context needed to understand them. Should I, then, avoid making subtle points that might be misunderstood? That didn’t seem like the right solution. My seniors have told me that Krishna has given me a gift for deep thinking and logical articulation. I feel responsible for using that gift in His service, including by exploring subtleties and nuances that may otherwise go unnoticed. Moreover, education itself involves two stages: first simplifying the complex, and then complexifying the simple. When children begin learning about colors, we may start with clear contrasts such as black and white. Later, they need to recognize the many shades of gray between those extremes. Similarly, when we begin learning about morality, we need clear principles: this is right, and that is wrong. Such simplicity provides a necessary foundation. But as our understanding develops, we need to recognize that applying those principles in real situations may involve competing considerations and important qualifications. Strictly speaking, the second stage isn’t so much complexifying the simple as revealing the complexity that already exists within reality. If I speak about shades of gray, someone may mistake them for black or white. But if I avoid discussing shades of gray and speak only about black and white, I may create the impression that everything really is black and white. The possibility of misunderstanding nuance cannot be a reason to abandon nuance altogether. Clarity Amid Complexity My mind went to how Krishna Himself teaches in the Bhagavad Gita. In the second chapter, Krishna urges Arjuna to fulfill his duty as a warrior rather than give in to lamentation. Beginning with verse 2.12, He repeatedly establishes the eternality of the soul. The soul continues to exist even when the body dies. Yet in verse 2.26, Krishna temporarily considers an alternative premise: suppose the living being were repeatedly born and repeatedly died. Even then, He explains, lamentation would be unwarranted, because death is inevitable for whoever is born. Krishna is not endorsing the idea that there is no eternal soul. He is using a hypothetical argument to reinforce His conclusion from another angle. Taken out of context, however, that verse could suggest that Krishna considers the soul’s existence and nonexistence equally plausible, without affirming either. But Krishna has already established the eternality of the soul in the preceding verses. And after briefly considering the hypothetical alternative, He returns to that central teaching, reaffirming the soul’s enduring existence and the responsibility that follows for Arjuna. Krishna’s teaching thus offers a practical example of how a potentially misunderstood point can be situated within a clear larger explanation. By establishing the main teaching before considering an alternative, and returning to His conclusion afterward, He reduces the possibility of misunderstanding. That suggested something I could apply in my own teaching: when introducing a subtle qualification, I should place it like the central layer of a sandwich—first make the central point clear, then explore the qualification, and finally return to and reinforce the central point. Of course, even that approach cannot guarantee that nobody will misunderstand me. But I can anticipate reasonably likely misunderstandings and address them proactively. That’s what I’ve begun doing since my exchange with the teenager. Whenever I narrate the Mahabharata incident about Yudhishthira’s gambling, I now mention the teenager’s conclusion that obeying elders can be dangerous. This usually draws a laugh from the audience because it illustrates how easily someone can miss the main point. I then explain how we may arrive at an incorrect understanding if we don’t see points in their proper context. As I thought further about the subject, I realized that I needed to avoid two extremes in my teaching. At one extreme, I might oversimplify reality and leave people under-equipped to face its complexities. At the other, I might overcomplicate my explanations and leave people overwhelmed even when making simple decisions. I need to find the balance where I can keep simple things simple and explain complex things without creating confusion. Reflecting on this responsibility, I offered a prayer: My dear Lord, grant me the clarity of thought to discern which points should be kept simple, without introducing unnecessary complexity in the name of subtlety. Grant me the clarity of expression to explain necessary subtleties as unambiguously as possible. And grant those who hear or read my words the clarity to understand what I am trying to convey and, when that clarity is lacking, the willingness to seek clarification. May my words illuminate, not complicate. *** 02.26 If, however, you think that the soul [or the symptoms of life] will always be born and die forever, you still have no reason to lament, O mighty-armed. The post I Learned Today That Obeying Our Elders Can Be Dangerous first appeared on Chaitanya Charan Das, Bhagavad Gita ISKCON .