It’s fable time again – simply because I’m tired.
More simplicity, wisdom, and timeless lessons. One cannot help but wonder if The Mice in Council is Aesop’s attempt at satire, a subtle jab at the futility of committee meetings, or perhaps an illustration of how the best-laid plans often go awry when rodents are involved (why did the word ‘politician’ come to my mind?).
The story begins with a congregation of mice, summoned to address a pressing matter: the neighbourhood cat. This cat, a menacing predator with a penchant for pouncing, has left the mice in a perpetual state of terror. The council convenes, and after much deliberation, a young mouse proposes a solution so simple and elegant that one might mistake it for the work of a genius: “Let’s bell the cat!” The plan is met with resounding applause, and for a moment, it seems as though the mice have outwitted their feline foe. However, the mood quickly sours when an elder mouse poses the question that no one wants to answer: “Who will bell the cat?”
The characters in this fable, though unnamed, embody archetypes that are as recognisable today as they were in ancient Greece. The young mouse, with his exuberant confidence and penchant for problem-solving, represents the idealistic dreamer, unburdened by the harsh realities of execution. This mouse, no doubt fresh out of some rodent equivalent of a Mensa-type institution, sees the world in black and white – specifically, in black-and-white striped bells tied around a cat’s neck.
In stark contrast, the elder mouse embodies the seasoned pragmatist, the weary bureaucrat who has seen one too many grand ideas crumble under the weight of practicality. His question, “Who will bell the cat?” is not merely a query but a rhetorical dagger, skewering the youthful optimism of his compatriot and bringing the entire council crashing back to reality. It is a question that, in its simplicity, exposes the absurdity of the entire plan and underscores the disconnect between strategy and implementation.
At its core, fable is a tale about the dangers of collective decision-making when untempered by practical considerations. The mice, in their desperate bid to outsmart the cat, fall prey to one of the oldest traps in governance: mistaking a clever idea for a viable solution. The story could be interpreted as a cautionary tale about the perils of over-confidence, the importance of critical thinking, and the need for a balance between innovation and realism. I’m not particularly on an anti-collectivist run by the way, though it may seem so given the last post or two ago…promise.
But beyond these lessons lies a rich vein of humour, especially in the way the story mirrors the inefficacies of real-world councils and committees. The image of a group of mice earnestly debating the logistics of belling a cat is, in itself, a comedy of errors. It’s not hard to imagine these mice in tiny suits, perhaps with PowerPoint presentations and flow-charts, oblivious to the fact that their brilliant plan is doomed from the start.
Moreover, the fable can be seen as a critique of leadership and delegation. The young mouse, full of ideas but unwilling to execute them, is a classic example of the ‘visionary’ who delegates the dirty work to others. The elder mouse, on the other hand, is the voice of experience, the one who knows that grand plans often require equally grand sacrifices – something that the young mouse conveniently overlooks.
The Mice in Council may be a short fable, but it packs a punch in its satirical portrayal of groupthink, leadership, and the gap between theory and practice. Aesop, whether intentionally or not, has given us a story that is as relevant today as it was in his time. While the mice never do solve their cat problem, they leave us with an important lesson: coming up with an idea is easy; finding someone brave enough (or foolish enough) to carry it out is the real challenge.
In the end, the fable serves as a humorous reminder that sometimes the most ambitious plans are better left on the drawing board – especially if you’re a mouse. So, the next time you find yourself in a meeting where a ‘brilliant’ idea is proposed, remember the mice, and perhaps, be the one to ask, “But who will bell the cat?” It’s a question that could save a lot of time, and potentially, a lot of lives – furry or otherwise. You just know you’ve had this dilemma at some point in your life. If you haven’t as yet, you will do.
Wording 