Roberto Grippi

I am Italian with German roots, living in Sicily

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I am Italian with German roots, living in Sicily — which is, in itself, another cultural world altogether.

Over the years, I have tried to explain Italy, and Sicily in particular, to friends from across the globe.
Often, I do so through my posts, where daily life intertwines with Sicilian traditions and Italian quirks.

Recently, I came across a post on Facebook that captured an unspoken truth about Italy — and I thought it deserved to be shared with you.

Better that I keep quiet, then!

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The Sicilian woman, when she is truly angry, grants no reprieve.
She speaks — or rather, shouts — for hours, like a flood sweeping away every obstacle.

It is not merely anger: it is strategy.
Every word, every repetition, every example is a stone laid to build a message that will remain in the listener’s mind.

When I first started publishing my thoughts …

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When I first started publishing my thoughts, about two years ago, I did it with the same commitment I bring to everything: giving all of myself, while submitting to the harshest judge I know — myself.

Recently, my wife and daughters suggested I should slow down: perhaps post once or twice a week, so as not to “burn through” ideas too quickly and not to tire out readers. They told me that, after all, the truly interested would always be few, and that in time I would end up addressing an ever smaller audience.

The Law of infusion coffee in a large cup – and the paradox of the Italian espresso

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The cooling of coffee follows an elegant law of classical Newtonian physics — describing how a hot liquid gradually descends towards the “golden zone” of 50–65 °C, perfect for both flavour and the survival of your tongue.

With infusion coffee in a large cup, the curve is predictable: after 8 minutes and 54 seconds it is ideal; after 16 minutes and 50 seconds it is already lukewarm and sad.

Then there is Italy.

Dare — and do not care

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Dare — and do not care.

Leadership is not about keeping everyone happy.
It is about knowing what truly matters, and cutting away the rest.

Courage is not shouting. It is choosing your battles — and ignoring the applause meter.

As the Sicilian proverb says: “Cu avi cori, passi u mari a pedi.”
He who has heart crosses the sea on foot.

The strong have never been afraid of anything

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My wife often says that I am not a victim, even if at times I may appear to be one.

She does not say it to comfort me, but to remind me that the real difference is not in what happens to me, but in how I respond.

In Sicily, there is a saying: “Cu è forti, nun si scantau mai di nenti.”
Literally: “The strong have never been afraid of anything.”
It means that strength is not the absence of blows, but the ability to remain steady when they come.

What is a winner? A maker of losers

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What is a winner?
A maker of losers.

Every victory breaks a balance: there is always someone who lifts the trophy and someone left empty-handed. Winning is never a neutral act, for it defines both who triumphs and who falls.

But to reduce a winner to this alone is too narrow.

The true winner is not merely the one who collects successes, but the one who turns losers into respected opponents, not humiliated enemies.

In the earliest societies, power belonged to the wisest

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In the earliest societies, power belonged to the wisest.

A Sicilian proverb recalls it well: “Cu’ havi cchiù sali conza la minestra.”
He who has more salt — that is, more judgement — seasons the soup, and thus leads and governs others.

And yet, unlike in the animal world, where no herd ever follows the most foolish, the most cruel or the most inept, among humans this paradox occurs — and frequently so. Why?

A lazy man who thinks is worth more than a carefree steward

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“Quantu vali un lagnuso penseruso, mancu un massaru spensierato.”

This Sicilian proverb reminds us that “a lazy man who thinks is worth more than a carefree steward.”

The contrast is clear: a slow mover who reflects adds more value than a tireless worker who acts without planning or critical sense.
Thought prevents waste; blind effort multiplies errors.

Men and Caporali: A Timeless Lesson for Leaders

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Sir, let me explain.

I have divided humanity into two categories: men and “caporali” (literally, corporals).
Men form the majority; the “caporali,” fortunately, are the minority.

Men are those who work all their lives like beasts, never seeing a ray of sunshine, without the slightest satisfaction, living in the grey shadow of a wretched existence.
The “caporali” are those who exploit, tyrannise, mistreat, and humiliate. Driven by greed, they always float to the top, often without authority, skill, or intelligence—only the boldness of their brazen faces and their arrogance, ready to harass the ordinary man.

So, Sir, do you understand?

“Caporali” are born, not made. Whatever their class or nationality, they share the same face, the same expressions, the same manners, and the same way of thinking.

He who eats in vain wastes both time and stomach

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He who eats in vain wastes both time and stomach.
(Sicilian proverb)

“Cu mancia ammatula, perdi tempu e panza”

Everything has its own time — and wisdom lies in respecting it.

In leadership as in cooking, rushing what is not ready is like harvesting fruit before it is ripe: you lose the sweetness that only patience can give.

Timing is everything, and food is no exception.
Projects, people, and negotiations all have their natural pace.

Unity of command: Clarity at the top, flexibility at the edges

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Unity of command is one of the pillars of leadership, both in the military and in business.

When it is clear who is in charge, attention is focused, efforts do not overlap, and execution runs smoothly.

From Eisenhower’s direction in the Second World War to Steve Jobs at Apple, well-defined authority has consistently supported coherent strategies and the efficient use of resources.
It ensures that everyone marches — or charges — in the same direction, reducing conflict, ambiguity, and redundant decision-making.

Raising a child creates love

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“Addivare fa l’amuri”
(Raising a child creates love)

This Sicilian proverb, as simple as it is profound, reminds us that true love is born from care, consistency, and responsibility.

It is not about idealised, romantic, or instinctive affection, but about a bond built over time — through presence, sacrifice, and commitment.

Those who raise a child — whether a parent, grandparent, uncle, or simply a constant figure — create a connection that goes beyond blood.

If you throw a stone at every barking dog, you will soon run out of arms

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“Si a ogni cani c’abbaia ci tiri na petra, non t’arrestanu vrazza.”
If you throw a stone at every barking dog, you will soon run out of arms.
(Sicilian proverb)

You are not bitter — simply more selective.

Where once you tolerated out of courtesy, now you choose more carefully where to stop.
Not out of fatigue, but out of leadership.

A true leader cannot be distracted by every noise. The world barks — in meetings, in emails, on every platform.
But if you answer everything, you lose clarity, focus, and energy.

The penis does not want worries

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“A minchia un voli penseri” — the penis does not want worries — is a crude Sicilian proverb that captures something undeniably human: the instinct to seek pleasure, ease, and freedom from responsibility, while dodging the discomfort of failure or reflection.

It points to a male-coded impulse — but one not limited to men — to pursue gratification without consequence, status without struggle, and power without the burden of accountability.

I lost the donkey along with the whole load of carobs!

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“Persi lu sceccu cu tutti i carrubbi!”
Sicilian proverb:
I lost the donkey along with the whole load of carobs!

This sharp and rather bitter proverb captures the disappointment of a deal gone wrong. The saying is used when one expects to profit from a situation but ends up losing everything: not only the donkey (the means), but also the valuable goods it was carrying (the carobs).