The art of becoming a has-been.

Three years ago, my dear friend and colleague Seán Gaffney and I were in a similar situation - personally and professionally. Recently retired, we both had the privilege of being able to live on our pensions - albeit with some austerity.

When the need to invoice disappeared, we didn’t any longer have the motivation to actively sell our services as consultants and teachers. We didn’t undertake anything to make our presence felt in our respective markets, but we welcomed the assignments that came in anyway.

We had more free time than was good for us, a lot to give — or so we thought — but not many opportunities to give it. We both were frustrated by the transition we were going through: from travelling all over the world as hot-shot consultants and teachers, we were fast becoming “has-beens”.

We met at least once a week; our conversations laced with self-pity, resentment and spiced with stories of past glories. We perceived that our careers were in ruins.

Eventually we came up with the idea of writing a paper with the working title of “The art of becoming a has-been”.

Our conversations about outline, content and the essence of the message, gradually led to a shift in our perception. Coming to terms with our reality, we could let our self-pity and resentment behind us. Our sense of abandonment and humiliation healed.

I remember the day, Seán sipping an Irish whisky and me a coffee, when we understood that we couldn’t master the art of becoming a has been without accepting that we never were

The perceived ruins became then an existential territory in which we could be grateful towards those who had made it possible for us to do our thing. And when possible, repair the damage we had done with our hubris. 

“Never having been”, we concluded we had nothing to write about.

In fond memory of Seán Gaffney. I still miss our conversations.  

Eugenio Molini augusti 2025