In Stephen R. Donaldson’s “Chronicles of Thomas Covenant” (an excellent read and a profound moral drama, of which everything from setting to characters partakes, by the way) there are a race of people called the Haruchai. Residing in a harsh mountain range, they were extraordinarily hardy and excellent fighters, prone to viewing the world in absolutes.

They moved to make war on the Lords, rulers of the Land, not out of hatred, but a desire to assess their own worth in battle. When they finally met the Lords, however, they were so profoundly moved by the Lords’ dedication to beauty, kindness, and restoration that rather than fighting, they swore a Vow to protect the Lords that endured for millennia. The 500 Haruchai assigned to this task became known as the Bloodguard.

The Bloodguard tended to view their duty to protect the Lords even more absolutely than Haruchai in general viewed duty, leading Thomas Covenant, the main character of the series, to berate them for their fidelity and for the intensity of their convictions.

What I call “the Bloodguard effect” seems to be a psychological phenomenon: when one applies a set of rigid standards to one’s personal or professional life, others will come to view that set of standards as a judgment upon them for their own comparatively weak standards – and one not in their favor. Therefore, the others perceive these inflexible standards as a threat and attempt to undermine them in some way, usually by assuming that their weaker standards are universal and that it is somehow improper to hold stronger ones. Of course, without a reasoned and persuasive argument, such efforts are bound to fail, which brings further resentment, as the perfectionists are seen clinging to a set of contrary beliefs.

The scientist archaetype represents the pinnacle of intelligence alone, and scientists in general span the gamut on all other measures of personality. Unfortunately, intelligence without the guidance of a truly self-determined personality and purpose is useless at best, destructive at worst.

How many people are there who grew up with visions of studying mammograms all day? As children, they were doubtless attracted to the ideal of being doctors and helping save people’s lives, but somewhere between their graduation and their entrance into the medical profession, their purposes were sidetracked and reshaped – by their own compliance.

I admit that I had no choice but to choose the lesser evil after I was shut out from my study of algorithms, but I at least ensured that if I had to compromise, the compromise would not fundamentally alter the meaning of my life – and so it hasn’t.

And thus I find interaction with the majority of other scientists at conferences and other gatherings less and less compelling with each opportunity. Mathematicians interest me. Philosophers interest me. Most scientists don’t anymore.