The dystopian science fiction film In Time (2011) offers a fascinating and morbid premise. In the future, we are told, time is the ultimate commodity. Everyone is genetically engineered so that the aging process stops at the twenty-fifth year; after this, each person has only one more year of life. A numeric counter is visible on the forearm to show exactly how many years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds each person has remaining on his balance of life.
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The pages of the medieval biographer Ibn Khallikan (II.301) contain the following moral anecdotes related to an obscure poet named Abu Al-Hasan Ibn Bassam (?–A.D. 914), who was known by the surname Al-Bassami.
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What may at first consideration be an enticing course of action, may take on a much more negative hue after further scrutiny. This was the point of an anecdote related by the Roman writer Aulus Gellius in his Attic Nights (I.8). Although the story is essentially a humorous one, the idea it conveys is one that carries the utmost seriousness with regard to the fates of men and nations.
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One of the rules of the nineteenth-century whaling industry was that if a captured whale carcass were lost by its owner, it thereafter became the property of the first ship to recover it. After being killed, a whale had to be secured to the side of the whale ship, or towed with ropes; and it occasionally happened that the prize would become untethered from its owner, and float away upon the open ocean. In those cases, the first hand to plant a harpoon in the carcass could claim it as his own.
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In the 1998 film Fallen, one of the characters intones an ominous motto: “What goes around, really goes around.” This is a more emphatic version of the old adage, “What comes around, goes around.” In both cases the meaning is the same: he who spreads iniquity and evil, will eventually be himself visited by iniquities and evils of even greater magnitude.
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It is tempting to believe that our current social problems are uniquely modern, and that they have no analogues to conditions of previous ages. A review of the thoughtful writings of the past shows that this belief is far from the truth. Consider, for example, this comment from the Latin dialogue Antonius, which was composed by the humanist Giovanni Pontano around 1487 and first printed in 1491:
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There is a line in Statius’s Thebiad (VIII.320) which reads,
Omne homini natale solum.
This means, “All soil is native to man.” I think it is appropriate to interpret soil in an abstract form, and understand it as signifying land. He does not mean just any land, but terra incognita: the vast expense of the unknown, untamed and hostile. Does this line have any significance, or is it just another poetic garland? To me the poet is trying to communicate the idea that, for the brave man, every piece of ground on this earth may be claimed as his own, and called his own; and that, through his discipline and efforts, the man of virtue may conquer the challenges of his environment, wherever the locale may be.
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The defilement of a nation’s cultural heritage is among the most odious of crimes. But the offense is especially noxious, and finally unforgivable, when committed by national leaders for their own personal aggrandizement. The past is always vulnerable to the malicious exigencies of the present. An illustrative example is found in the pages of Roman history.
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Philosophers and theologians have often pondered whether, or to what extent, wicked deeds are punished within the lifetime of a malefactor. Some maintain that the consequences of evil actions can never be avoided, and that, sooner or later, divine retribution will be visited upon him who offends the gods of justice. Others take a different position, and hold that punishment for the commission of foul acts is a purely random occurrence. Some men, they say, arrive at their appointment with Fate, while others seem to lead charmed lives, escaping justice while walking through life’s raindrops. As for which view is correct, no man can know. For my own part I tend to subscribe to the belief that wicked deeds always exact a certain price from their authors. That price may be postponed, or deferred, or placed in arrears, or hidden from the view of others; but the levy nevertheless weighs on the soul of the malefactor, and steadily corrodes it from within.
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Buried in the learned and fecund pages of Ibn Khallikan (IV.43) is an amusing tale of an impoverished poet of medieval Sicily. Who will object to its retelling?
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Quintus Curtius 
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