It’s been a while since I last posted, apologies. In part, this is because I’ve been on vacation. But in part, it’s also been because I’ve been pausing for what my former rugby coach used to call a moment of Socratic thought. I’ve mainly been thinking: what the hell do I know?
I’ve just written a book about the drug war, and I confess that I am just at the tip of the iceberg in terms of insight. I know what I know but I know very little. But what worries me is that everyone else seems to be in the same place.
I recently had a conversation with a DEA agent in Mexico who ended said conversation by saying: “Eh, what do I know?”
I had another conversation with a foreign correspondent in which he said the same thing. “Eh, what do I know?”
We all know that little is known for sure in Mexico, but it’s hardly reassuring when a former anti-organized crime prosecutor tells you that if three people tell you the rumour, you can assume it to be true and investigate. “But, eh, what do I know?” he added.
I was also told by a reporter acquaintance that an FBI source of his had tried to pass off a Rio Doce article as “intel,” prompting me to think the FBI guy goes home every night and tells his wife: “Eh, what do I know?”
Here’s what we know for sure: nobody seems to know anything.
And I wish I knew more.