The Weight of Compensation

These days, even eating a meal can lead to philosophical reflection.

The matter isn't complicated. Just a few days ago, it was all over the internet. A guy treated some friends to Haidilao, and something unpleasant happened. To smooth things over, the restaurant offered compensation. This is a pretty common scenario; in the service industry, there are bound to be some bumps in the road. But, surprisingly, this guy's friends weren't having it. They insisted on splitting the compensation.

What kind of situation is this?

When I first saw the news, my initial reaction was, are these friends joking? The guy was the one who treated them, he was the one who had the bad experience, and he was the one the restaurant compensated. On what basis do you get a share? The logic is as absurd as finding a wallet on the street and insisting on splitting it with a passerby.

But on second thought, I realized it's not that simple.

What kind of mentality does this reflect? Is it a calculating attitude of "taking advantage whenever possible"? Or is it an extreme pursuit of "fairness"? Or perhaps, it's the erosion of interpersonal relationships by the logic of consumerism?

We're used to quantifying everything, putting a price tag on everything. We go Dutch on meals, reciprocate gifts, and even emotions seem to be measurable in monetary terms. In this atmosphere, Haidilao's compensation is no longer a remedy for individual loss, but rather a "property" that can be divided and traded.

This reminds me of Kafka's novella "The Metamorphosis." After Gregor turns into a beetle, his family's attitude towards him gradually changes from initial shock and concern to disgust and indifference, and finally even a desire for him to die. Gregor's "value" lay in his ability to earn money and support the family. When he lost this "value," he also lost the meaning of his existence.

Did the friends in this news story also treat the guy who treated them as a "tool"? Treating them to dinner was an "investment," and receiving compensation was a "return." Since it's an "investment," the "return" should naturally be shared by everyone.

This logic is terrifying when you think about it.

If all interpersonal relationships become naked exchanges of interests, what affection is left? What warmth is left?

Of course, I'm not saying that friends can't talk about money. But money should be a means to maintain relationships, not the goal. If money is valued more than affection, then the relationship has changed.

Haidilao's compensation may be split, but the resulting emotional rift is difficult to heal.

This meal truly leaves a mixed taste.

I remember when I was a child, material resources were scarce, but the relationships between people were simple and pure. At that time, if someone made something delicious, they would always share a bowl with their neighbors. If someone was in trouble, everyone would lend a helping hand. The "compensation" at that time was not money, but a warm word, a sincere hug.

Today, we live in an era of great material abundance, but the distance between people seems to be getting wider. We are裹挟 (guǒ xié - swept along, carried away) by various "rules" and calculated by various "interests," but we forget that the most precious thing between people is that unrequited true feeling.

This news is like a mirror, reflecting a certain pathology of our time.

Perhaps we should all stop and think carefully about what kind of life we want. Is it to pursue material abundance or spiritual fulfillment? Is it to choose cold exchanges of interests or warm interpersonal relationships?

The answer may be hidden in each of our hearts. It's just that we are often blinded by the noisy world and forget to listen to the voice of our inner selves.