The Termite

THE TERMITE

Once a termite applied for a grant to carry on with its work.
Seeking such assistance was not something the termite did lightly, convinced that it would lose much of its independent vision as a result. Lately, though, it had begun to have serious doubts about its ability to keep up with the increasingly difficult challenge of clearing the world of deadwood and decay.
Despite its misgivings, therefore, the termite felt encouraged when it was invited to appear for an interview regarding its grant application. It took the invitation as a positive sign and felt new enthusiasm for its work in hopes it might be recognized and find timely support at last.
The termite had barely taken its place in front of the grant committee, however, when the chief interviewer declared, “Your application is, quite frankly, one of the most unsettling we have ever received. I must tell you at the outset that the committee is not inclined to support it and that you have been invited here solely to satisfy certain requirements for transparency and fairness in the selection process. Now, if you have a short statement you’d like to read, you may do so.”
The termite did have a statement over which it had toiled for days. But now all of that seemed pointless in the deepening humiliation it felt while reading out a plea for recognition under the wide-eyed, alarmed stares of the committee members. Each word felt like dust in its throat.
When the termite finished, there was a long pause. Finally, one of the interviewers asked, “Let me understand this correctly. Are you actually claiming that your work can be of benefit to society?”
“I believe it can, yes,” came the hoarse reply.
“And you propose to render this ‘benefit’ by attacking everything you see as rotten in society?”
“If we don’t clear away what’s old and in decay, how can something better ever take its place?” the termite offered hopefully, but the response it received was a caustic “Who are you to decide what’s ‘old and in decay’ when so many of those who should know are convinced everything is still quite sound?”
“I only point out what ought to be obvious to all.”
“Well, it’s not obvious to us, let me tell you!”
“Shocking, that’s all I can say!” another member of the committee declared.
The termite saw in the expression of hostile umbrage on the faces arrayed before it that its proposal to take on the herculean labor of chewing through every example of decay it encountered so that something genuinely new could replace it was viewed as a direct challenge to much of what the members of the grant committee prided themselves on having endorsed and generously rewarded in the past. They were not about to question a continuation of that approach to bestowing grants just because some termite had shown up with a disturbing proposal it called “Create through Destruction.”
There was nothing left, the termite realized, but to listen as the repeated throat-clearing died away and the head of the committee signaled that the interview was at an end:
“Thank you for your interest. We wish you success in finding support for your endeavors elsewhere. Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”