I became an atheist fairly early, but it took me longer to realize there was no Santa Claus. The idea didn’t make sense, but the presents appeared under the tree, and my parents denied being responsible, so clearly they’d gotten there somehow. I concluded that I just didn’t understand some important part of how the world worked.
One year, we’d just moved into a new house. For the first time, we had a real fireplace, made of brick. I excitedly spoke of how this would make visiting much easier on Santa, but wondered how he could make it down a chimney at all, and began making plans to string a net of dental floss across the opening in an attempt to see how Santa dealt with the obstacle.
I had been leaning on the brickwork, looking up the flue, as I said these things, and as I turned around I intercepted a look my parents were giving each other. Translated into English, it might have said something like “Isn’t this precious?”
In that moment, I intuited that there was no Santa Claus, and that my parents had been lying to me because they thought my belief was cute.
I had already learned that not everyone was my friend. I already knew that some people who weren’t my friends actively wished to harm me. But that was the first time I really grasped the idea that my parents had goals and preferences of their own that they would choose over my welfare, that I couldn’t rely on them not to harm me for their own benefit.
Before that time, I took for granted without thinking about it that people’s stances toward things could be easily derived from what they said and did. Enemies were obvious; so were friends. Only afterwards did I really understand not only that appearances were deceiving but that people would actively create false appearances.
Instead of relying on my first impressions, I began to withhold judgment and (although I lacked the words to describe it at the time) actively seek new evidence to test my beliefs.
“So from a libertarian standpoint, this is not an admirable act—he forced the shareholders to do something they didn’t want to do.”
No, he didn’t. They wanted to offer a life insurance policy. I’m confident that they’re not thrilled about having to pay out, but they’re not being forced to do anything against their will—only to keep to the obligations they freely entered into.