The long fall of a CEO

Mistakes like these always reveal themselves sooner or later, and clearly, they were not prepared. Poor guy. So much effort to build an astronomy company, only to watch it collapse like a house made of star signs.

The public buzzed, from vicious comments to sympathetic ones that sounded like "oh no, our alcoholic friend relapsed again." But behind all the judgment, the real question remains: How could someone so smart be so dumb? Why didn't he just divorce first? Why not handle it cleanly?

Maybe it was ego or maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was simply because a very necessary conversation never took place. Despite our shiny tech, glittering gold watches, and sleek AI therapy apps, humanity still hasn’t cracked the "infidelity equation."

I wonder if they ever talked about this, that when men think about sex, their brains light up nearly twice as much as women's. And that desire doesn't come from reason or loneliness; it comes from somewhere deeper. Primal. Instinctive. In the murky corners of the brain, past reason and guilt, there lives a lizard submerged in still water. It doesn't speak. It simply emits a pulsing hunger like an old swamp, waiting for movement.

A friend once confided in me about the reptile in his head, a primal, shadowy place where desire reigns, overriding all logic and regret. Men, no matter how civilized, carry that impulse, warmth, closeness, a glance that feels new. The male brain, like a wild beast, is always on alert, observing its next lunch.

But desire is not an excuse. It demands care, conversation, and effort. That same friend sat down and openly talked to his wife about his reptile mind. Thankfully, she understood. Together, they built a fence. Most people, though, just run away, like zookeepers fleeing when the croc escapes.

Asians take a different approach. Someone once said Westerners cheat more, and the Astronomer CEO certainly didn't help that stereotype. But I tried to explain.

"No, there’s no cultural ‘menu’ in the West like there is in Vietnam. No late-night massage parlors, no twilight cafés, no suspicious ‘services,’ or mysterious cuddling in red lights and shadows, fishing and lady services (which I have only heard about, not confirmed to be real, but find it hilarious)."

But to be fair, Vietnamese people do have a powerful cultural mechanism to keep things in check: jealousy brawling.

One thing that helps Vietnamese men stay in line, like those wobbly handrails on the third floor of a karaoke bar, is the jealous brawling. And it’s not just wild bickering anymore. Over time, it has evolved into a modern form of folk performance art. There are levels, timing, lighting. Post-production teams that outshine national TV. I've seen the clips, read the captions and I'm still haunted.

If Byron lived in Ho Chi Minh City, his wife wouldn't just quietly delete his surname. No, she'd post a story soundtrack, "First love never fades," softly playing over a photo of strange slippers by the door. Then she’d gather her girl squad, book a café with strong Wi-Fi, and launch a coordinated assault, livestreamed in full 4K with quality microphones, ring lights, and three camera angles. TikTok. Facebook. Zalo. All systems go. Within 15 minutes, the mistress’s government ID and middle school records would appear in the comments, chaos, and the internet would explode.

All of this is just a cultural response to one biological fact, men have stronger sex drives. And the more power they have, the more temptation surrounds them. The wiring is already there. But of course, desire is not an excuse. It just means effort is needed. Men need to sit down and have the real conversation with their wives. As difficult as flying to the moon. There's no A.I. that can save us from this. No therapist. Not even Canadian songwriter Leonard Cohen, who once wrote: "Everybody knows that you've been faithful, Oh, give or take a night or two."

I still wonder: how do these enormous, repetitive failures keep happening? Infidelity. Betrayal. Collapse. People say, "Evil!" and frown in moral judgment. But I prefer to zoom out whenever I hear "evil" or "good." I put on my anthropology hat and watch humans like ants. Like another species. From afar, it sometimes makes more sense.

My friend, after bravely talking to his wife about the crocodile lurking in the recesses of his mind, found a way to cope. He went to church more, where the beast brain could be reprogrammed by prayers like, "Lead us not into temptation." Or with Buddhism, he used mindfulness to observe and release desire. He filled his time with creative, positive habits. He avoided alcohol and avoided gym thirst traps. He became a stoic man of discipline, fence of faith reinforced, revolver of willpower loaded, ready to blast when the wild thing came knocking again.

Maybe that CEO was not evil. Maybe he was just careless. Maybe the relationship had ended long ago, but he couldn't admit it. What he needed, perhaps, was just one honest conversation. At the right time.

*Jesse Peterson is an author who has published some books in Vietnamese, including "Jesse Cười", "Funny Tragedy: adding color to life".