Blog 2
Don’t Sell Yourself
Two Small Stories, One Dangerous Habiti
We usually talk about corruption as if it comes from big things: poverty, desperation, lack of education, political decay. That’s a comforting way to think, because it makes corruption feel far away, like something that belongs to “the system,” not to us.
But corruption doesn’t begin in parliament or in a ministry.
It begins in the private moments where we quietly decide what our conscience is worth.
The idea behind “Don’t Sell Yourself” is simple:
Corruption is not only taking money you shouldn’t.
It is selling your dignity, your responsibility, or your true value—
whenever the chance appears.
This can happen in two directions:
- when we use power to exploit others, and
- when we allow others to strip our worth down to a bargain price.
Two small stories—one about a teenager, one about an artist’s fee—show how this works.
Story 1: The Teenager Who Learned What Blackmail Is
One of my students is a teenager—sharp, sensitive, intellectually curious. His favourite artist is Bob Dylan, not just for the melodies, but for the questions in the lyrics. He is the only son of two doctors. His parents are educated, well-off, and they love him deeply.
They once told me:
“Sometimes he becomes very angry and demands things that are not necessary at all. If we refuse, he makes a scene until we give in.”
This is not unusual. It’s almost a cliché of modern parenting.
But underneath it, something important was happening.
One day, instead of scolding him, I decided to name what was going on.
I asked him,
“Do you know what blackmail is?”
He said, “Yes.”
Then I asked,
“Do you understand the difference between what is necessary and what is unnecessary?”
He said, “Yes.”
Then I said:
“You know your parents love you very much.
You also know that if you become angry,
if you create a scene and apply pressure,
they will finally give you what you want—
even when it is unnecessary.That is not love.
That is blackmail.”
He went silent.
Something shifted.
He stopped doing it—not because I punished him, not because I shouted, but because the mechanism was named.
This small episode reveals a bigger truth:
Corruption is not born from poverty alone.
Corruption is born whenever pressure is rewarded
and conscience is negotiable.
The logic is exactly the same as in high-level corruption:
- “If I use pressure, I will get what I want.”
- “If I create a crisis, people will give in.”
- “If I have power, I can make others surrender.”
What is practiced as emotional blackmail in a family can later appear as financial blackmail in an office, academic blackmail in an institution, or political blackmail in the state. The scale changes. The psychology does not.
This is the first face of selling yourself:
selling your conscience in exchange for power over others.
Story 2: The Musician Who Sold Himself Too Cheap
The second story is not about exploiting others.
It’s about quietly allowing others to exploit you.
For my three-hour performance, I used to charge 25,000 taka. That was my professional rate. It reflected my experience, my preparation, and my value as a musician.
Then I met an agent.
He kept saying one sentence again and again:
“You are too expensive.
If you reduce your charge, you will get many more shows.”
This is a familiar line for artists and workers everywhere:
“You’re too expensive.”
“Others will do it cheaper.”
“If you care about money less, you’ll get more chances.”
Out of curiosity and a bit of insecurity, I decided to test it.
I told him:
“Whatever you give, I will perform.”
At first, he gave 20,000.
Then 15,000.
Then 10,000.
Eventually, he offered 5,000.
Yes, my performances increased—but not dramatically.
The small increase in shows did not compensate for the massive drop in value.
Within about a year, my fee had fallen to one-fifth of what it was.
My skill hadn’t decreased.
My experience hadn’t disappeared.
The quality of my performance had not become 80% worse.
Only one thing changed: I handed someone else the right to decide my worth.
That was my mistake.
The lesson was painful and clear:
If you agree to sell yourself too cheaply,
the world rarely argues with you.
It simply accepts your new price.
At some point I realised: this is not a negotiation anymore; this is erosion.
I cut ties with that agent.
Today, my shows are growing again, slowly and honestly, at rates that respect the work. There may be fewer shows than the fantasy of “more, more, more,” but they are better, healthier, and more aligned with what I deserve.
This is the second face of selling yourself:
selling your own value for less than its honest worth.
Two Directions of the Same Problem
Put these two stories together and a single pattern appears.
- Upwards corruption:
- The teenager uses emotional pressure to control loving parents.
- Later, an adult might use institutional, financial, or political power to control others.
- In both cases, the person sells their conscience for the pleasure of getting their way.
- Downwards corruption:
- The musician allows an agent to slowly cut down his worth.
- Workers underpaid “for exposure,” professionals told to be “grateful,” artists pushed to play for “visibility” all face this.
- In these cases, the person sells their dignity for the illusion of more opportunity.
Both are different forms of the same act: selling yourself.
- In the first, you exploit others.
- In the second, you allow others to erase you.
The “Don’t Sell Yourself” movement speaks to both.
What This Movement Is (and Is Not)
It is important to say clearly what this movement does not stand for.
“Don’t Sell Yourself” is not:
- Anti-money
- Anti-success
- Anti-professional growth
- A moral attack on people who struggle to survive
It is:
- A refusal to turn conscience into a bargaining chip
- A refusal to use love, power, or crisis as tools of manipulation
- A refusal to accept exploitation disguised as “opportunity”
- A defence of fair value for honest work
The movement asks one central question:
When you are given the chance to gain advantage—
by pressuring others or by undervaluing yourself—
will you take it, or will you resist?
Corruption as a Habit, Not a Sudden Accident
What these stories show is that corruption is less like a lightning strike and more like a habit. It grows through repetition.
- A child learns that shouting works.
- A junior officer learns that “speed money” works.
- A manager learns that cutting salaries and calling it “market reality” works.
- An artist learns that saying “yes” to bad deals brings a few more shows.
Every time, a small internal vote is cast:
“This is acceptable. This is how things are done.”
Over time, these votes accumulate.
Corruption stops feeling like corruption.
It feels “normal.” It feels “necessary.” It even feels “smart.”
That is exactly what “Don’t Sell Yourself” wants to interrupt.
The Moment of Choice
The crucial moment is rarely dramatic.
Most of the time, it looks like this:
- You can take some money that isn’t clean—and nobody will know.
- You can threaten someone emotionally—and they will obey you.
- You can accept half your worth for a job—and at least you “get the gig.”
These are the quiet crossroads where character is tested.
When unfair advantage becomes possible,
that is when your character is being examined—
not by a court, but by yourself.
Integrity is not usually discovered for the first time under maximum pressure.
It is trained in these small decisions, long before power arrives.
Don’t Sell Yourself — In Either Direction
So when we say “Don’t Sell Yourself,” we mean:
- Don’t sell your conscience
by using pressure, manipulation, or corruption to get what you want. - Don’t sell your worth
by allowing others to reduce your value far below what you honestly deserve.
Sometimes this refusal will cost you:
- a lost deal,
- a smaller number of shows,
- a missed promotion,
- a harder, slower path.
But the alternative costs much more:
- a self you no longer respect,
- a profession that no longer has dignity,
- a society where everything and everyone has a price.
A Quiet, Difficult Promise
The message of this movement is simple, but not easy.
When the opportunity appears,
when the money is big,
when the system looks the other way,
when silence is rewarded,
when someone tells you “this is how things work”—
don’t sell yourself.
Not because you are perfect.
Not because you want to be a hero.