There is no honour among thieves. It is often observed that human greed is more powerful than human loyalty and that no allegiance or promise is safe from corruption by money, sex, or power. Stories of double-crossing, double-dealing, and betrayal are rife in the world of crime. Some of the most popular crime novels grip the reader with intrigue and it isn’t possible to guess “who done it” until the very end. Surprise endings usually involve a character or characters who seemed trustworthy only to be working for the other side.
Prisoners all over the world have told me stories of being betrayed or “sold out” by accomplices they thought were friends. Among those prison inmates who are the most universally derided, despised, and victimized are informants who have “double-crossed” their friends or partners in crime for personal benefit, often by way of betraying their partners to the police. On the other side, among the most respected prisoners are often those who have refused to inform on their partners and consequently take the blame and serve time in prison rather than implicate their partners in crime.
Loyalty and betrayal are the currency of honour and respect in prison, just as in society. The only real problem for any of us is that loyalty is often for sale to the highest bidder. For the right price or payoff, people will switch their citizenship, friendships, church affiliation, and life partners as easily as they switch their loyalty from one football team to another for the sake of approval. For some the price is high, for others low, while for yet others the cost of loyalty is a price they don’t want to pay.
A popular speaker and friend of mine tells a story about a beautiful woman, alone in an elevator with an equally attractive man. As the elevator slowly ascends to the twentieth floor of the hotel, the man looks at the woman approvingly and asks, “Would you be interested in coming to bed with me if I gave you a million dollars?” “Why, certainly I would,” she replies with interest. A short silence follows as they both ponder the proposition. The man speaks again, “How about if I give you $200,000, would you sleep with me for that?” “Yes,” she responds, “I could do that.” He continues, “And if I give you $50,000 – will you still come with me?” “Sure,” she replies a bit hesitantly and with noticeably less enthusiasm. “And if you don’t mind me asking just one more time – will you sleep with me for a $100?” – Shocked and indignant the woman slaps his face — “Absolutely not! Just what kind of a person do you think I am anyhow?” The poignant silence that follows is finally broken as the man says – “lady, we’ve already established what kind of person you are – it is only the price we were negotiating.”
While the story is perhaps apocryphal, the point it makes is uncomfortably clear. For it isn’t just the story of a woman and a man in an elevator, it is a story that touches on our human nature and the price we put on loyalty and honour. How often do we tend to sell ourselves to the highest bidder, when the price is right? It isn’t always in the big things of life but in the little things. I schedule time to meet with a friend and something more interesting comes up — what do I do? All too often I tend to find a lame excuse to back out of the prior commitment in order to take on a new commitment that is more appealing and attractive – with a bigger payoff, for me.
During this Lenten season I am pondering the meaning of loyalty, honour, and betrayal in my life. In friendships, business dealings, and my everyday lesser and greater commitments – by what measure do I stay the course? Is it by loyalty and honour or is it by the measure of “what’s in it for me?”
The story of Judas is an interesting one. He was a follower of Jesus, one of his closest disciples. He knew Jesus as a companion and teacher. He had witnessed the blind receiving sight, lepers healed, beggars transformed, and even the dead being raised to life. Judas knew the gospel. How could he not know the message of Jesus inside out? And yet he sold his loyalty and his honour, betraying his leader for personal gain and possibly to save himself. It is said of Judas that he was a thief, helping himself to funds in the common purse. The roots of his betrayal began in little things, and being loyal only to himself, he betrayed the man who was his friend.
If you cannot trust your friends – can they trust you?
The world’s a jungle there ain’t no justice
Laws of nature rule this land.
Better hide your horses, bury your whiskey
Hold your woman any way you can
Cause there ain’t no right or wrong, nothing’s carved in stone
It ain’t cheating if you don’t get caught
Jokers laugh and losers grieve
Cause out here there’s no honor among thieves.1
1Lyrics from the song “No Honor Among Thieves” by Toby Keith
Ronald W. Nikkel is the president and CEO of Prison Fellowship International (PFI). For more information, visit the PFI web site.