On the farm, in the yard where we kept the chickens, you noticed something. Some poor hen ranked at the bottom of the pecking order–a real phenomenon, by the way–and could literally be pecked to death by all the others. Unless someone stepped in and protected her, her life was miserable and grew worse by the day.
Humans don’t play foolish games like that, do we?
Let me tell you a story.
Bill was a big awkward, homely guy. He dressed oddly, and drew the attention of a few fellows in the shop where he worked, guys who enjoyed making fun of him.
One day someone noticed a small tear in Bill’s shirt and reached over to rip it a little more.
It became a joke that morning. Anytime anyone passed Bill, they tore the shirt just a little more.
Bill was hovering over a machine, working on it, when the ripped part of his shirt got caught in the wheels. Inside of two seconds, he was in real trouble. Alarms sounded and someone shut off the machine just in time and trouble was averted.
The foreman had seen all this. He walked over, pulled the switch on the power for that section and called the men around.