Betrayal leaves emptiness for everyone.

For the one who is betrayed, certainly. Often, in quieter ways, for the one who betrays as well.

But perhaps it hurts so much because we expected something that was never on offer.

Built on give and take

Human constructs and contracts are transactional in nature. Employment. Partnerships. Memberships. Even many friendships.

We receive, and we want to reciprocate.

That is not a flaw. It is how relationships are built in the first place. Something is given, something comes back, and the relationship deepens a little each time.

I wrote recently that most working arrangements reward time rather than value. Relationships follow a similar logic. Underneath the warmth, there is an exchange.

Reciprocation follows position

Reciprocation seldom happens when our position is weaker.

When we hold something others want, such as a budget, a title, a contract to award or a network to open, people give generously. Calls are returned quickly. Invitations arrive. Advice is offered freely.

And even then, reciprocation is often a gesture to deepen that give and take, only with the hope that the transactions will be beneficial. It is not always deliberate. Often it is not even conscious. But it is there.

Those who can no longer play the game

Think of people with a terminal illness. People in large debt. People bedridden after an accident. People in old age.

They are ignored, because the chances of them playing the game we play are slim. They have little left to exchange. So, slowly, the visits become fewer and the calls stop.

Most of us have watched this happen to someone. Few of us like to think it could happen to us.

The inverse is true too

No one is actually interested in us. People are interested in the position and the associations we hold.

Consider an executive who leaves a senior role after many years. While she held it, her calendar was full. Vendors wanted her view. Peers invited her to panels and lunches. Her messages were answered within the hour.

Within months of leaving, the phone is quiet.

Nothing about her as a person changed on the day she left. Her judgement, her experience and her character are exactly what they were. What changed was what she could offer.

It is the same pattern that shows up when relationships stop being relationships and start being currency. While the currency holds its value, the relationship looks real. When it loses value, we find out what it was.

An illusion worth seeing

Perhaps the idea of people who will stand with us, whatever happens, is an illusion.

The truth is that no one is ours anyway. Not our colleagues. Not our networks. Not the people who gather around our position. Much like the sparks we carry through life, they were never ours to keep.

Betrayals are given. We just need to be aware of it, ever more.

Aware of what people are really responding to when they respond to us. Aware of what we are responding to in others. And aware that, for most of us, this lesson arrives only when we lose something: a well-paid job, a loved one, our health.

The questions that remain

Here are some questions to ponder.

If your title, your budget and your network were gone tomorrow, who would still call?

Which of your own relationships are held together by what the other person can offer you?

And if betrayal is a given, how would you give differently if you stopped expecting anything back?