The academic circle is ultimately too naive.
There are, of course, monsters and demons, but they still care about face to some degree.
After all, the circle is only so big; if things go too far and get exposed in a scorched-earth scenario, a collective social death is not worth it.
But clearly, this mode of thinking does not apply to people like Ruel Smith.
After all, even if he chose to expose himself, it wouldn't affect Ruel Smith too much.
Even if the entire academic community lambasted him, as long as he had a strong enough mental capacity, he could easily disregard it.
But for the Science Academy, it would be an insurmountable burden.
If today they could change their neutral stance or their original selection criteria due to one person's threats, or rather persuasion, who could guarantee they would not compromise again when faced with the same issue next time?
Who would then dare believe in the authority of the awarding institutions?
When the old man realized this, he understood that they would ultimately have to bear it all themselves.
The credibility of the awards definitely could not be lost, at least not questioned during his tenure.
Of course, he also had to satisfy the demands of his colleagues.
Otherwise, in general unease, nothing else would get done.
Most importantly, it was hard to say whether those people, out of self-interest, would take a real gamble.
So, someone had to stand up to quell everyone's anger.
Thinking of these things, the old man's mood suddenly calmed.
After sighing, he walked into the study, took out a diagnostic report from the drawer.
After reviewing it for a while, he finally made a decision.
If it was his decision, then he should be the one to end this farce.
He just hoped that the matter could be concluded there, keeping the storm within the smallest possible radius.
Thinking this, the old man found some stationery in the drawer, and before putting an end to everything, he had to write a letter to an old friend, to leave something behind.
"Dear Carl, By the time this letter reaches you, I hope you are in good health and in high spirits. Please believe that these wishes are sincere. Even though we were once competitors, at our age, I believe you can also see through many things.
Now, to the point. The reason for this letter is that I have made a great mistake, one that will probably shame me for the rest of my life, irredeemably. Thus, I plan to resign as the president of the Science Academy, and to deal with this problem in a more extreme way.
I am sure by now you have guessed it, yes, the problem with the Crafoord Prize. Emotions that should not have been there clouded my judgment, and I allowed personal likes and biases to influence and manipulate my power, thereby altering the decision of the committee.
I know you must find this crazy. Yes, looking back now, I too think it's insane, but at the time I did it anyway! Maybe there's a devil inside me? And I accidentally let it out.
My colleagues at the Science Academy are trying hard to cover up for me, hoping that I can get through this. But when I came to my senses, I realized that I couldn't get through it. Yes, I understand that I've messed up everything, putting everyone in a difficult position, and possibly destroying the hard work of many predecessors.
But what's done is done, and feelings of self-reproach, guilt, or any other emotion are pointless now. You once said that I always tend to push my mistakes onto others, to assert my authority. That's probably the only flaw I refuse to acknowledge.
To prove this, I plan to take full responsibility for this mistake, in my own way. So when you read this letter, even if you want to curse me, you won't have the chance! Ha ha... Carl, will it hurt you?
Alright, let's leave it there. If you consider me a friend, there's something I hope you can do for me. I drafted a will a long time ago, it's with my lawyer, and I will include a copy of it with this letter. Please ensure my lawyer will execute it properly.
Yes, in light of recent events, I have developed too many doubts about this world, and I no longer completely trust my lawyer. But if there is one person in the world I can trust unconditionally, that must be you, right?
Lastly, the deepest insight I have about the world is this: A flawed warrior is still a warrior, and a perfect fly is still just a fly. If possible, when you see my obituary, please release this letter to the public.
Your dear friend, Andrei."
After finishing the letter, the old man carefully checked it over before taking out an envelope, writing down the address, and sealing the letter. Only then did he make a call and used the academy's special channel to send the letter out.
There's no helping it; if you can only become skeptical of some people and things in this world after experiencing certain events, then when it comes to sending letters, he still trusted his own system more.
Then, as usual, the old man opened the mailbox in the study, arranged some recent events in an orderly fashion, opened the drawer again, took out a bottle of pills, swallowed them, and then returned to the bedroom. Dressed neatly, he lay down on the bed.
Hopefully, this could be the end of it.
As his consciousness began to blur, one last thought flashed through the old man's mind.
Sadly, though they were major participants in the incident, how things would ultimately end up... the steering wheel was no longer in their hands.
United States, Washington, Langley.
Actually, Ruel Smith was not as relaxed as the old man thought.