A fiduciary knows the harm of feeding the dog – Carosa

Mrs. Lowe could understand that Lane didn’t want her to feed his dog Sam. “I’d rather you didn’t feed him.” What she couldn’t understand was Lane’s response when she offered to give him the food to feed Sam. “No, ma’am, I don’t feed him, either.”

Then he explained his reason.

“Sam’s independent. He doesn’t need anybody. I want him to stay that way. It’s a good way.”

I couldn’t help but think of this scene from John Wayne’s classic Hondo as I read the comments about the billionaire who promised to pay off the loans of Morehouse College’s entire graduating class (see “3 Unintended Consequences Point Out How Robert Smith’s Honest Gift to Pay Loans Neglects Duty to Students’ Best Interest – A Lesson In Fiduciary Duty,” FiduciaryNews.com, May 29, 2019). Sometimes the worst thing you can do to the dog is feed him.

We laugh at that sentiment today. We prefer our dogs tame, not taken to the ways of the wild. And we can afford that luxury.

But in a different time, in a different place, when life was more about survival than matching 401k funds, you didn’t do the dog any favors by feeding it. You knew, but for the grace of God, one day you might not be there for feed the dog. If the dog didn’t learn to fend for himself, well, then, the dog didn’t have much of a chance to survive.

So you don’t feed the dog. You keep the dog hungry. Hungry dogs have a way of finding food no matter what the circumstances. Hungry dogs tend to survive. Our world today might not be a rough and tumble as the Old West, but there are lessons from the lonesome prairie that remain true today just as they did more than a century ago. These lessons not only build strong character and stronger individuals, they build the strongest communities.

Self-reliance, self-sufficiency, and self-determination represent the blocks in a foundation upon which good lives are constructed. A civic body of self-made lives develops the independence necessary to progress.

America conquered the west because rugged individuals with self-confidence and a fierce independent streak forged into a feral unknown and tamed it for others to follow. These pioneers didn’t depend on the kindness of strangers to feed them. They fed themselves. They made the decision to place themselves in challenging circumstances, then figured out a way to overcome those trials.

When a fiduciary assumes responsibility for someone’s best interest, that doesn’t mean feeding that someone. A fiduciary doesn’t merely give someone a fish. A fiduciary teaches that someone how to fish.

In other words, a fiduciary’s job is to work his way into obsolescence. When the hatching flies free and clear from the next, the fiduciary’s role has been fulfilled. Only those not concerned with the best interest of others would stoop so low as to offer free handouts. This may sound counter-intuitive to those who buy into the preaching of “it takes a village.”

Indeed, that scene from Hondo that opened this column ended with Mrs. Lowe telling Hondo Lane “Everyone needs someone.”

Hondo’s blunt answer: “Yes, ma’am. Most everyone. Too bad, isn’t it?”