If it is not broken, do not fix it
Today’s reflection connects naturally to yesterday’s thought on the permanence of the provisional.
This saying, with its seemingly straightforward, almost engineering-like clarity, in fact contains a pragmatic, conservative — and at times dangerous — philosophy.
Its concise form is a call for caution: if something works, even imperfectly, it is best not to interfere.
“Nothing is more permanent then a temporary fix.”
At first glance, this sounds paradoxical.
After all, temporary solutions are meant to be just that — temporary. They are supposed to buy time, act as stopgaps, or serve as provisional measures until a more appropriate or lasting fix can be implemented.
But in practice, these “temporary” solutions have a strange habit of becoming permanent.
At the bottom of the social ladder, solidarity is not charity — it is community.
“If you’re in trouble or hurt or need, go to poor people.
They’re the only ones that’ll help, the only ones.”
(John Steinbeck)
This is not just a social observation. It is a moral indictment, a political commentary, and a deeply human truth, distilled into a single sentence.
“Manciavu pani scurdato.”
(“I ate forgotten bread”)
This Sicilian phrase is deceptively simple.
In just four words, it expresses two distinct dimensions of human experience: one social, the other psychological.
Both are marked by a quiet sense of detachment, endurance, and unspoken commentary on one’s place in the world.
“Stupidity is infinitely more fascinating than intelligence — infinitely deeper. Intelligence has its limits; stupidity has none.”
(Claude Chabrol)
Chabrol suggests that stupidity is fascinating not because of any redeeming quality, but because of its unpredictability.
Intelligence, however brilliant, tends to follow rules, logic, and structure.
Stupidity does not: it is anarchic, capricious, without proportion.
And for precisely that reason, it can surprise, disorient, even attract those who view the world as a theatre of the absurd.
Today, the true devil is approximation.
By devil, I mean that kind of irredeemable negativity, from which no good can arise.
We encounter it in vague speeches, in generalisations, in the imprecision of thought and language, especially when accompanied by arrogance and petulance.
Here, the devil reveals itself as the enemy of clarity, both in one’s inner reflections and in communication with others. It is the personification of deception and self-deception.
People do not stay because they must.
They stay because it matters.
( a.k.a. When work becomes a profession, the profession shapes the soul of the company)
Working in a company for many years means much more than acquiring skills: it means entering into a relationship with an identity—and helping to shape it.
“Nihil est tam inaequale quam aequalitas ipsa.”
Nothing is so unequal as equality itself.
(Pliny the Elder)
Equality has established itself as the great rallying cry of the modern age — the symbolic banner under which civil, social, and political battles are waged. It embodies a noble aspiration: a fairer, more inclusive, more humane society.
Yet in the shift from principle to ideology, from operative criterion to unquestionable dogma, equality has assumed the character of a contemporary myth.
Inspired by Melissa Kirsch’s “Season Opener” (The New York Times, June 21, 2025)
Today is the year’s longest day.
Tonight will be its shortest night.
Summer has begun—not the calendar’s version, but the real one: sun-drenched, sweat-slicked, fragrant with sunscreen and smoke from a distant grill. The air thickens. The heat gathers. It is time to plunge into water, to float, to swim, to feel coolness wrap itself around your skin like a brief absolution.
Every culture has recognised a simple truth: when we are hurt, we become cautious. And when the pain is sharp enough, the lesson is remembered instinctively — not as theory, but as reflex.
Language, with its gift for memory and metaphor, has captured this in strikingly similar ways across the world.
Turkish and Greek cultures, despite their long history of rivalry and political tension, share a deep well of cultural proximity rooted in centuries of geographical coexistence, Ottoman legacy, and Mediterranean lifeways.
Their cultural nearness is paradoxical, layered, and often obscured by nationalist narratives, but it is undeniable.
Greeks and Turks often see each other through a mirror of rivalry and resemblance. They might bristle at comparisons, but deep down many recognise how familiar the “other” feels — in gestures, humour, music, and mannerisms.
Structural Engineering
“…is the art of modelling structures made of materials we do not fully understand, into shapes we cannot precisely analyse, subjected to forces we cannot accurately predict—carried out with a nonchalance the general public could not even begin to imagine.”
(Giulio Maier)
“Parlare senza bastonate.”
This Sicilian expression literally translates as:
“To speak without beatings.”
But idiomatically, it refers to someone who gives away information, secrets, or truths too easily — without being coerced, threatened, or pressured.
It does not celebrate free speech — quite the opposite, it is used critically or ironically to describe someone who:
Talks too much
Reveals things they should keep to themselves
Volunteers sensitive information before anyone even asks
Confesses without being tortured, figuratively speaking
Someone once asked me why I was so concerned about the environment.
I said ‘I live there.’
And they looked at me as if that fact never occurred to them.
“Carpe Diem”
The Latin phrase carpe diem, meaning “seize the day,” takes on a deeper and more delicate resonance when viewed through the lens of affectionate memory.
Traditionally, carpe diem is interpreted as a call to action: to live boldly, to pursue joy, to postpone no dream.
No deep thoughts today — just a public service announcement.
I am clearly outnumbered.
Surrounded by brilliant women who smile sweetly… and run everything.
I may look like the head of the family — but let us be honest: I am more of a well-dressed mascot.
And I would not have it any other way.
“Cu avi lingua passa u mari”
This Sicilian proverb—“He who has a tongue can cross the sea”—celebrates the power of speech and persuasion.
It suggests that those who know how to speak, ask, or negotiate can overcome even the greatest obstacles.
Today’s post is inspired by some unexpected news: a friend of mine — an engineer, no less — has just been promoted to purchasing manager.
The jokes write themselves, of course.
From designing systems to approving coffee machine quotes: a glorious arc of career evolution.
But behind the mockery lies a very real truth.
We should hand over more power to engineers.
“Man does not control his own fate.
The women in his life do that for him.”
(Groucho Marx)
It is a common illusion that a man commands his own destiny.
As for me, I speak from richly layered experience.
Abd al-Rahmān Ibn Khaldūn (Tunis, 1332 – Cairo, 1406), one of the sharpest minds of the medieval Euro-Mediterranean world, offered a powerful critique of the decline of Islamic civilisation. Regarded by many scholars as a precursor to Hobbes, Vico, and Marx, he is widely considered the most influential philosopher and sociologist of his era.
At the core of Ibn Khaldūn’s thought lies a fundamental insight: empires are not permanent structures, but living systems that follow a discernible cycle—rising through unity and vigour, and declining through complacency and decay.