The list was written in pen.
Scribblings of messy handwriting on a notepad.
The title? Non-Negotiables.
Carmen Berzatto – the co-owner of a fictional Chicago eatery – compiled this list early in the third season of the acclaimed television series The Bear.
In forming this list, “Chef Carmy” drew on his experience working at the finest restaurants on the planet. Those establishments got their Michelin stars thanks to their consistently exemplary dishes and exemplary service. But those plaudits were rooted in a fanatical devotion to house procedures.
Berzatto knew that accolades come with discipline. And he yearned to instill it in his refurbished establishment.
So, he outlined his non-negotiables and declared them law.
This all went over like a lead balloon. The staff found the new requirements tedious. The financiers found them unprofitable. And everyone found it insulting that they weren’t consulted.
They all ridiculed Berzatto’s work as the scribblings of a mad man. And they refused to comply.
The dysfunction from this spat put the restaurant’s viability in serious jeopardy. Characters who once got along found themselves at each other’s throats, or talking behind each other’s backs. All while the service quality withered on the vine.
It was a jarring turn from the earlier seasons of The Bear. And many viewers were uncomfortable with the show’s shift in tone.
But I was not one of them.
I was captivated.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been stubborn as a mule.
I fretted over the particulars of each aspect of my life since before I could even talk.
As a child, I clung to preferred patterns for dear life. And I refused to even consider a compromise.
Fortunately, my parents were up to the challenge. They prepared meals that suited my narrow tastes. They moved heaven and earth to procure the Matchbox Cars I obsessed over. And, whenever I spent an overnight away, they packed the ragged sheepskin I slept on inside my travel bag.
As each year passed, I grew in knowledge and stature. Yet, I refused to budge on my non-negotiables.
This all came to a head one New Year’s Eve. A snowstorm had roared through the area, and I’d grown bored of sitting around at home.
I begged my parents to drive me across town to my grandparents’ house. My father hesitated, noting that the roads were slick and filled with drunk drivers.
But I was stubborn and insistent. I refused to take no for an answer.
So, my father relented to the treacherous journey.
We headed onto the highway, over a long bridge and through slushy side streets until we reached my grandparents’ front door.
As we arrived, my mood brightened noticeably. My non-negotiables had been honored.
But by the next morning, I came to realize the error of my ways.
My grandparents hadn’t stocked the fridge with my favorite breakfast foods, and it was still too dicey out to venture to the grocery store. Other out-of-home activities were also a no-go due to the weather and the holiday.
I was back at Square One. Stuck in a house with not much to do. Only, this wasn’t even my house.
The universe had conspired to shred my non-negotiables. To demand compromise from stubbornness.
And I could avoid that fate no longer.
I wish I could call that snowy New Years Eve a true inflection point.
The moment when I went from a high-strung boy to an open-minded young man.
But that’s not quite what happened.
In the years that followed, I remained as stubborn as a mule. But if my demands were truly infeasible, I would call an audible.
No longer would I trek across town during a holiday snowstorm. No longer would I starve myself if a restaurant was out of my favorite dish.
I was cautiously flexible. But only when I absolutely needed to be.
As such, it took a long time for me to evolve. To embrace the unfamiliar. And to acquiesce to the requests of others.
This still hasn’t fully happened. I’m well into adulthood, and my non-negotiables list remains quite long.
But I’m committed to whittling it down. And I’m working at it.
Partway through The Godfather, a group of men hold court at a long table in a hotel conference room.
The men are all outfitted in sharp suits that belie their aging features. They fill their cups with water, load their plates with grapes, and puff smoke from their cigars.
They seem alike, but they do not like each other.
You see, the men at this table head up the Five Families of the New York Mafia. They’ve been engaged in a turf war for months. But now, they’re trying diplomacy.
Don Vito Corleone – one of the film’s main characters – proposes a truce, leaving territories and trades the way they were before the bloodshed. But the other mob bosses object.
They claim that Corleone has hoarded all the corruptible politicians in New York, leaving them with no cover for illicit activities. And they state a desire to add drug trafficking to their racket – an activity Corleone staunchly opposes.
The discussion looks like a dead end at first. But the men keep talking, and eventually come to an agreement.
The Five Families can move forward with drug trafficking, but with strict rules of operation. And Corleone will cede some of his political protection to the rival bosses.
No one gets exactly what they wanted. But the bloodshed ends, and everyone is better off. Even if only for a moment.
It’s been more than a half century since The Godfather hit movie theaters. But this scene seems more important than ever.
For in our modern-day society, me has won out over we. Unilateralism is omnipresent. Cults of personality are stronger than ever.
It’s easy to draft a non-negotiables list and clobber others over the head with it. It’s acceptable to be as stubborn to a fault. It’s laudable to invite conflict and to never back down.
But it’s reasonable to do none of these things.
Indeed, the best path forward is paved in compromise. In giving up a bit of what we hold dear to gain a lot more.
This makes us more considerate, more palatable, and more well-rounded. This makes us better, while also lifting those around us up.
It’s a win all around.
So, let’s make the shift. Let’s reconsider what we won’t consider. And let’s leave the mule train behind for good.
The non-negotiables are open for negotiation. It’s our move.