Sugar Sugar

Don’t believe what the others tell you.

Their minds are so blinkered, you know? They go on about broad-mindedness, but they’ve got no vision. You hear me, vision. Blind, for the most part. Totally blind.

Glad we could meet up, by the way. Like I said, don’t believe what they tell you.

Yes, I’m still teaching at the high school. Just finished teaching a few lessons on the way sugar production drove the European settlement of the Americas. It’s a favorite of mine, Lisa loved it too. Always spend a whole week of lessons going over it. Fascinating, you know? The way a sweet tooth leads to the need for massive amounts of cheap imported labor from Africa, the clearing of arable land whose residents were unfortunately lacking in agricultural acumen, and the establishment of some of the first publicly traded joint-stock companies.

All so millions of people could enjoy their daily tea with sugar.

Lisa? Oh, she’s one of the students. Nothing much to tell, there.

Anyway. Most teachers can’t resist giving what you might call a moralistic bent to these lessons — or subjects, if you like. But there’s a terrible beauty in the patterns of history, don’t you think? And what’s one man, some kind of judge of reality?

Of history?

Of truth?

No. Judgment is just willful blindness, just covering over truth…

Which reminds me. Lisa. Maybe the foundations of colonial trading empires don’t speak much to most high school juniors, but she really seemed to get it. Always quick with an answer. Bright-eyed. Insightful, even.

Seriously, don’t listen to what the others say.

I mean, let’s put it this way: back when I was in school my friends always told me it was a special kind of man who could stand to be a high school teacher. And of course at the time I didn’t know what they meant — still don’t, in fact. But they’d say a man teaching in an environment full of underage girls must either have terrific moral fiber or… well, there’s a word they used for men in that situation who don’t have terrific moral fiber.

But anyway, I was standing at the white board, talking about the way an undeniable craving for sugar and caffeine ended up creating some of the world’s first global trade networks. Now, think about that. I told you I’m not a man who thinks in moralistic terms, but think about the moral compromises that had to be made to bring that about. The rationalizations you’d have to make, the unfortunate necessities you’d have to justify.

All to satisfy a craving for a bit of sugar and caffeine. That’s the world-shaping power of a physical desire. An addiction, if you like the word.

… especially when it’s so very sweet. So sweet and inviting, innocent even, just in the first flush of life. Sure, you know it’s monstrous, but don’t you see that becomes part of it? That’s part of what hooks you in, because you know it’s so deeply wrong and yet the payoff is so blissfully sweet, and don’t you see it’s the contrast that makes it that way? To feel that utter disgust and revulsion, at yourself, at what you’ve made of your life, at what these simple cravings mean for millions of human beings across the centuries who suffered and continue to suffer to make it possible. But oh, that delightful sweetness that makes it all worthwhile.

So how could I resist?

I mean… how could they resist? It was all for the sugar.