I love a Secret of Adulthood, and I write them myself. My new book, Secrets of Adulthood, includes two hundred of these secrets, such as “We know what matters to people when they repeat themselves,” “If we’re not likely to win a starring role, we can stage our own performance,” “Putting materials into our hands often puts ideas into our heads,” or “Telling people what to do is a very different skill from doing it ourselves. Mediocre writers can be great editors, and unprincipled gurus can lead others to enlightenment.”

I collect other people’s secrets of adulthood, and I also collect teaching stories. I love Aesop’s fables, Zen stories, and parables.

I love the fact that teaching stories can come to us from all kinds of sources—from real life, of course, and also from jokes, books, movies, plays, online, and TV.

Some teaching stories have an actual moral or conclusion that illuminates their meaning. When I tell a teaching story in my “A Little Happier” episodes, I tend to include a line or two where I summarize my point.

But I was recently reflecting on a very dramatic yet also subtle teaching story that didn’t overtly present a conclusion. It was only as I found myself reflecting back on this episode of television, years after I’d watched it, that I realized how successfully it had suggested its lesson.

This story comes from the AMC legal crime drama called Better Call Saul. This very successful series was a prequel to another very successful show, Breaking Bad.

I’m going to talk about a very specific part of the plot. I don’t think I will include any spoilers, but exercise caution if you’re thinking of watching the show. Which you should! It’s excellent.

One thing I loved about both Better Call Saul and Breaking Bad is that they are very accurate depictions of the Four Tendencies. Jimmy McGill is such a Rebel! And his girlfriend Kim Wexler is such an Obliger! I’m an Upholder myself, and I loved the depictions of Mike Ehrmantraut and Gus Fring, who are both tremendous Upholders. They’re also both dedicated criminals, which just shows that you can’t make assumptions about the Tendencies.

An Upholder makes an excellent drug lord, and Gus Fring is that guy. Mike Ehrmantraut works as an enforcer and fixer for Gus. You feel the admiration that these two men have for each other, for their discipline and their excellence in their (admittedly criminal) professions. Even though they are such law-breakers, within the show Better Call Saul, we viewers have developed tremendous respect for their judgment, their foresight, and their decision-making.

The teaching story appears in Season Four, Episode 5, called “Quite a Ride.” I watched the show several years ago, and I wasn’t sure if I remembered the story correctly, so I went back and watched it.

After I watched it, I realized that I’d had a very accurate memory of what happened, even though I’d only watched that episode one time, years ago—which demonstrates why a story is such a powerful way to communicate an idea. We remember stories, and their lessons, far better than we’d remember simple instruction.

So here’s the story.

Once upon a time, in order to get better control of the drug operation in his region, criminal mastermind Gus Fring decided to build a secret underground meth “superlab,” so he’ll be able to oversee the production of much more, and higher quality, meth.

He considers it absolutely crucial that the location and even the existence of this lab be kept secret, so that law enforcement and rival drug dealers can’t interfere.

Gus tasks his right-hand guy Mike with overseeing the construction of this lab. It’s an extraordinarily complex problem, because the lab needs to be huge, underground, located under an industrial laundry treatment center to disguise what’s happening there, able to power a lab full of sophisticated equipment, and completely secret—including while it is being built.

Gus and Mike need a team to build the lab, so Mike has arranged for two structural engineers to visit and assess the site, while Gus secretly observes to judge them.

The first structural engineer arrives at the underground site. He walks around a bit, takes some measurements, asks a single question, and doesn’t give any evidence that he’s making plans or thinking through problems. When Mike asks if he can do it, he says with great confidence, “Absolutely.” He estimates that it will take his team about seven months, but he thought he could do it in six. When Mike asks if that’s realistic, the engineer assures him that with the right equipment and modern methods, it’s no problem.

Later we see the second structural engineer arrive. He spends a long time examining the site. He scribbles sketches and notes in his notebook. He paces off distances to get a rough idea of the dimensions of the site. He shines his flashlight into the walls, muttering despairing comments to himself. Finally he sits, staring off into space, deep in thought. When Mike interrupts his reverie to ask him what he thinks, he describes all sorts of challenges that he’d have to deal with. For instance, before doing anything else, he’d have to support the existing structure, to avoid a cave-in. They’d probably hit rock as they went deeper, so he’d need to be provided with studies of the conditions in the area. They’d need to bring in a tremendous amount of material, and they’d need to remove a tremendous amount of material. And every step would be made far more complicated by the need for complete secrecy. He describes the many complex steps required, and in conclusion, he warns Mike, very soberly, “In a project like this, many things can go wrong.” When asked if it’s possible, he says, “Dangerous; difficult; very, very expensive, but not quite impossible.”

Which engineer do you think Gus Fring chooses?

Lately, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about this episode. What is the moral of the story of the two engineers?

Here’s what I think it is.

Be wary of the person who, like the first engineer, makes promises easily and doesn’t seem very concerned about keeping his word. Be wary of the person who says, “I can do this fast, no problem. I don’t need to present a plan, I don’t need to make studies, I never bother with details. Trust me, I’m the one for you, this is going to be easy.” That person is telling us exactly what we want to hear, but why should we believe he can keep those glib promises?

Consider instead the person who says, “This is a really challenging problem. I need more information. It’s going to take a lot of time, and a lot of work, to achieve this goal. I’m the one for you, but I’m warning you, this is going to be tough, probably tougher than we know now.”

One person promises, without evidence, that he knows a fast, easy solution. One person admits that his plan will take a tremendous amount of time, energy, and money, and involve a lot of boring details and complicated problems.

Whom would you choose?

I would choose the second engineer, myself. From my own life experiences, I’ve concluded that hard problems rarely have easy solutions, and I’m wary of the person who promises them—especially without any evidence of what that easy solution might be, or without evidence that they value keeping their word.

Gus Fring chooses the second engineer, and Mike approves.

This TV show conveys these ideas, with very few words and no lecture. Gus doesn’t say to Mike, “The person who acknowledges a challenge is more likely to overcome it than the person who dismisses it” or “Promises are easy to make when someone who doesn’t worry about fulfilling them.”

And yet I’ve recalled this lesson many times, in the years since I saw that episode.