In the climactic scene of the 1992 western, Unforgiven, William Munny (played by Clint Eastwood) holds a rifle to the chest of a supine and wounded Little Bill Daggett (Gene Hackman), the corrupt sheriff who had tortured and killed Munny’s friend and partner. Little Bill looks up from the floor and pleads his case. “I don’t deserve this—to die like this. I was building a house.”
For almost two hours, the film’s tension has built to the confrontation between these two legendary actors, and Munny’s simple reply proves every bit as powerful as the muzzle blast that follows.
With a classic Eastwood growl, Munny answers Little Bill: “Deserve’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Deserve’s got nothing to do with it.” -Clint Eastwood as William Munny, Unforgiven
I think about this scene all the time. You’d expect Munny to point out that Little Bill, after the horrible acts he has committed, totally deserves what’s coming to him. Instead, he delivers a profound insight into a fallacy of human logic: the disinterested universe cares little for the concept of deservingness or the plans we’re making, no matter how much we believe it should.
Before I write much more, I’ll acknowledge that this is a massive, complex topic, and I won’t pretend to solve the issues of fairness, meritocracy, or nepo babies in a ∼1,000-word essay. But I have one goal here—to ask that when you hear someone using any form of the infinitive “to deserve,” you stop and consider what’s behind the words.
When I say, “I deserve this!” it usually implies a degree of entitlement—as if either my work ethic or charming personality merits the outcome I desire. If I say, “She doesn’t deserve that,” in reference to something I want but do not have, my words invariably reflect underlying resentment, envy, or pettiness.
The human tendency to think in these terms goes way back. The Gospels grapple with deservingness in the parables of the prodigal son, and of the vineyard workers. In both cases, individuals who didn’t do the work or play by the rules still earn a full reward, which understandably pisses off those who put in the time.
It’s especially hard for us to deal with this kind of “unfairness” in zero-sum situations like college admissions. Last spring, my friend’s daughter got into a top university—let’s call it Princeton—because the soccer coach needed a goalkeeper. My friend’s child had a solid academic record but more relevantly, she happened to play the right position in the right sport at the right time. Did she deserve to beat out 22 other very qualified applicants for that spot? I don’t know—does Pete Davidson deserve to have sex with Emily Ratajkowski?
It’s just how life works. Opportunities don’t always accrue based on grades, test scores, or inherent virtue. And to be clear here, I’m not writing off persisting societal issues that prevent people from obtaining opportunities due to their race, gender, etc. I’m talking about the fact that luck, randomness, or life circumstances intervene in ways that appear contrary to the way the world, from our limited, self-centered human perspective, “ought” to work.
It’s the same with money. Wealth often finds people who didn’t “earn” it, via inheritance, alimony, or dumb luck. Do they deserve it? Wrong question. The right question is, “so what?” They have it and they’ll probably keep it. If that bothers me, well, that’s my problem.
In this kind of situation, it’s helpful to remind myself that I already have so much that I personally didn’t earn. Did I deserve to be born to two parents who loved, protected, and educated me in the wealthiest country in history during a time of peace and stability? Clearly, I did nothing to justify such a solid foundation, but it eventually paid off financially. Of course, I could have those same privileges and decided to slack off—my calculus homework didn’t do itself, after all. But even though my last name isn’t Carnegie or Kardashian, I still won the genetic lottery.
Also, we should remember that the concept of deservingness works the other way. This year, over 600,000 Americans will die from cancer. They were busy living their lives—raising children, building houses like Little Bill—when the universe stepped in and dealt them cards they did not deserve.
Oh sure, you can increase the odds of staying healthy by eating right and exercising—and you can’t win Powerball if you don’t play—but these outcomes are mostly the products of the universe’s incomprehensible, indifferent math. Deserve’s got nothing to do with it.
In addition to keeping Munny’s words in mind, it might be helpful to ponder the literal definition of “deserve,” i.e. to be worthy of a thing. If you have something others want, here are some ways you can be worthy of it:
Be grateful. First and last, practice gratitude for your good fortune. As hard as “self-made” people may have worked and as much as they may have delayed gratification, all of us have had help or gotten lucky along the way.
Be prudent. A good steward takes care of her assets. She is not reckless with them and honors them by not exposing them to unnecessary risk. As Warren Buffett says, “It’s insane to risk what you have and need for something you don’t need.”
Be generous. If nobody deserves anything, you can honor your bounty by sharing it, if only because your generosity serves you as well as others. In their book Happy Money, researchers Mike Norton and Liz Dunn report that giving to charity had the same happiness-boosting effect as a doubling of income.
Be self-aware. You’ve gotten so many opportunities just because. You’ve avoided calamity and disease mostly out of good luck. Never forget that—because it’s temporary.
Beware of thinking in the “deserve” binary. It’s not helpful and it cuts both ways. One of these days, while you’re out there living your life, the ball of good fortune will bounce your way. Or, an oncoming truck will swerve into your lane.
You don’t deserve either. But even if you did, it wouldn’t change the outcome.
THE END.
p.s. you should come to one of my upcoming live comedy shows in Charlotte, Chattanooga, Jacksonville, Ft. Walton Beotch, and/or Atlanta. Check dates here.