Mafiosos seem to have a simple, standard protocol for dealing with problems. If someone betrays you, someone steals from you, or negotiations break down, the answer is always the same: kill. Narcos, for example, portrays the drug wars in 1980s Colombia, the turbulent period when cocaine became a focus of organized criminality in the country. As the Colombian authorities, under pressure from American drug enforcement agencies, began cracking down, the drug cartels were pushed to new extremes. Not only did they have to deal with their rivals, which is part and parcel of this brutal underworld, but they also had to navigate the surveillance and prosecution efforts of both their own government and foreign powers. Naturally, the situation was full of uncertainty and treachery. And as the situation became more and more critical, the murders and assassinations began increasing to frightening levels. You can sense, almost viscerally, the potent mixture of desperation, anger, and egomania, flaring up in the characters.

This portrayal is no doubt somewhat caricatured but it’s still highly believable. As crazy and ruthless as some of the decisions are, they make sense. In fact, they come to seem almost inevitable. The leaders of these drug cartels have got so used to solving everything by killing and destroying that they no longer have the capacity to deal with problems in another way even if they wanted to. The skills that other, less drastic approaches require, such as self-control, patience, trust, and empathy, have atrophied. When it comes to light that an associate might be betraying the head of the cartel, the latter finds it intolerable to wait and see; the only viable option is to eliminate the associate. That at least doesn’t leave any doubt, and while it may have been completely uncalled for, having resorted to this before, the cartel is now satisfied with nothing less.

In a way, these people have been spoiled by abusing the easy way out too often. This was poignantly illustrated in an otherwise insignificant mini-plot where the son of one of the narcos lusts for a housekeeper and comes on to her. She repels him on several occasions, and he then just kills her. Someone didn’t give him something as trivial as sex, but he didn’t know how to seduce, how to negotiate, or how to let a rejection go and co-habit peacefully. So he turned to the conventional answer in this world and simply got rid of the person. As utterly disproportionate as it was, this reaction was natural for him.

This is the danger of resorting to the nuclear option, pushing that proverbial red button on the dashboard. Not only is it destructive in and of itself, but it also has a highly corrosive effect on the person using it. It provides an easy way out that obviates the need to engage in more strenuous problem-solving techniques and simultaneously deprives the person of the opportunity to develop these skills. Like a drug, it generates an effortless contentment that you get habituated to. After all, it does work; it just goes much further than necessary. There are times when a drastic solution is warranted – abandoning a relationship, quitting a job, scraping a project – but in most cases it’s preferable to exercise restraint and attempt a more nuanced settlement. In the long run, this will not only preserve useful things but also build character. Throwing caution to the wind will then be relegated to a distant possibility rather than becoming the default option. It’s easy to get addicted.