Once upon a time, there was a peasant. He bought himself a horse and hitched it to a plow. He was plowing with it. The plow was old and heavy, and the soil was sticky, making it hard for the hooves to get a grip. But the horse was strong and docile, which saved the peasant. Another horse would have given up long ago.
One day, a peasant watched horse racing on television and saw how jockeys raced on their carts. He was surprised why his horse moved slowly while the jockeys’ horses were fast. He even took a calculator and figured out how much grain he would have if he plowed twice as fast. He calculated how much land he could plow and how much bread he would be able to harvest later.
The peasant thought for a moment and decided that the horse probably lacked motivation. He armed himself with a carrot, reasoning that it was worth it for the sake of doubling his plowing area, and he also took a whip just in case, and began to motivate the horse. To his surprise, the horse turned out to be able to talk. He approached her with the carrot and asked, “Tell me, Savrask, how fast can you run if I promise you this carrot?” Savrask considered (it turned out to be a stallion) and said, “Well, if it’s not for long, I can manage about 7 kilometers an hour.” “Hmm,” thought the peasant, and replied, “Let’s make it this way: you run at 15 km/h all the time. Look, other horses can run 40 km/h. I saw it on TV. And if you can’t do it, I get the right to shoot you.” He thought to himself that he wouldn’t actually shoot the horse. Who else would pull the plow through the furrow? But he figured that the horse should see his decision not to shoot her as an act of generosity and love him even more.
Of course, the horse had no choice. It couldn’t feed itself. And it was better to die later than right now. So the horse agreed.
The peasant was pleased that the horse hardly resisted at all. He thought that meant he had made a generous and fair proposal to the horse. Moreover, having read some smart books about motivation, he decided that since this agreement was reached by mutual consent, the horse would fulfill it with particular enthusiasm.
But the horse started to walk even slower for some reason. No matter what the peasant did—he picked a big carrot, whipped the horse, and tried to coax it—the horse just wouldn’t budge. What’s more, the horse even stopped looking at the carrot that was dangling right in front of its nose. The peasant tried turning the carrot this way and that, but it was all in vain. To make matters worse, the horse began to act slyly. The furrow wasn’t going the way the peasant wanted, but rather in the direction that was easier for the horse. It was as if the horse had forgotten that the grain that would grow in the field was the very same grain it would be eating in the winter. Can you come up with an ending to this tale?