Of all the dangers Odysseus faced — the monsters, the storms, the whirlpool that ate ships — the one that almost got the whole crew without a fight was pleasant.
They landed on the island of the Lotus-eaters, and the Lotus-eaters did them no harm at all. The poem is specific about that. No violence, no trap, no malice. They simply offered the sailors something to eat — the lotus, so sweet that whoever tasted it stopped caring about home. Didn't rage against the voyage. Didn't argue with the mission. Just... stopped caring about it. The scouts who ate wanted only to sit and eat more, and when Odysseus came for them, they cried — cried — as he dragged them back to the ships and tied them under the benches.
Twenty-eight centuries later, that is still the most accurate description of distraction ever written. Distraction doesn't look like danger. It looks delicious, harmless, and vaguely nourishing. And nobody being pulled off a lotus island thanks you at the time.