Ramblings

I remember Andrew Hogarth well. Hogarth – at our school we rarely used first names – was a large, friendly lad. I must have triggered his protective instinct, because he appointed himself as my guardian angel. I hadn’t requested this, or ever felt the need for a bodyguard, but I was grateful that he volunteered it: his protection was clearly worth having. He never saw active service in this role, but perhaps that proves how effective he was as a deterrent.

But my main debt to Hogarth is his role in helping me learn a valuable life lesson at the age of eleven. Our English teacher was the young, progressive and charismatic Mr Beale. He had organised some kind of group drama competition for our lesson: Hogarth perceived an injustice, and commented that “Sir, it isn’t fair, because…”. Without recalling the rules, I remember feeling that he had a point.

Mr Beale did not attempt to address the injustice, but replied with a question. “Is life ever fair, Hogarth?” A subdued Hogarth replied “No Sir.” I was impressed with his mature and stoic acceptance.

Of course Hogarth and I – and the other boys in the class – were already benefitting from unfairness, privileged to study in a highly regarded grammar school. But how should an eleven year old respond to the realisation that life isn’t fair? Perhaps they could one day enter politics to try to make it less unfair? A laudable but usually frustrating prospect.

But taking the jaundiced but probably realistic view – that the world was not going to get less unfair any time soon – suggested an easier if more calculating approach: get yourself on the right side of the unfairness – through education and careful career selection.

I wonder what lesson Hogarth took from his exchange with Mr Beale. I recall Hogarth had a fondness and flair for business that stood out clearly, even at eleven. I’d like to think he was successful in his career.