Virtue Quest

My friends will not be surprised to hear that I’ve been in a heated theological argument this past week. I was on a discussion forum, and someone said something I thought was just wrong, and I responded and he responded and I responded to his response and… you see where this is going.

It took up way too much of my time.

And, at certain points, I admit I lost my temper and wrote disrespectful things.

How to lose your temper

What happened? I mean, I’m the most friendly, even-keeled, rational guy I know … at least, of all the people who are typing on this keyboard right now.

What happened was that I took his critiques of my argument personally, as attacks against me. It’s a little ironic, because at times he did attack me personally; now, when someone says straight out, “You’re an idiot,” it’s easy to dismiss. The poor guy has obviously lost it.

But when he provided good evidence against my position, I said to myself, “You’re an idiot.” And a burning desire flared up in my belly: I wanted to shout back at him some incredibly sophisticated insult to put him in his place. Something like, “Oh yeah? Well you’re an idiot!”

My problem was that I was identifying a weakness in my argument with a weakness in myself. And, rather than acting to correct whatever weakness was there, I tried to blame the weakness on someone else.

Anger: vice? virtue? or passion?

I grew up thinking that anger was always wrong. I’d feel guilty just for feeling mad. Yet there really is such a thing as “righteous indignation”. The question is not so much what I’m feeling, as what I’m doing with those feelings.

Thomas Aquinas defines anger as “the desire to hurt another for the purpose of just vengeance.” (ST I-II q47 a1) By “just vengeance,” he means punishing someone for the harm they have done toward oneself. In other words, anger is the desire to punish a wrongdoer.

So, when I’m getting riled up, I have two questions I need to ask: first, what harm has been done to me? and second, what action would restore justice?

More often than not, I can stop at the first question. I could be imagining that the person is insulting me or means me harm. Or maybe the harm is completely unintentional, or worse, my own fault. The anger doesn’t always go away, but I know that I can’t take it out on someone else.

Calm anger with justice

On the rare occasion that someone really has harmed me unjustly, well, that’s when it’s tough. I feel like I simply want to hurt the other person. We all know that’s almost never the solution. The question is, can the harm be repaired? Can the person who hurt me make restitution? Can what is wrong be made right?

If so, then anger provides the energy and motivation to hold that person accountable – so long as I’m able to keep my anger focused on justice.

But if there’s nothing anyone can do to repair the damage, then the only thing to do is let go. Forgive, if the person apologizes. And accept the simple fact that life isn’t always fair.

Beating up a punching bag may be about as good as it gets. But it’s far far better than taking unjust vengeance. Two wrongs never equal a right.

Yesterday, I answered Sarah’s question by saying that virtue is a good habit. That’s pithy and fits neatly on a bumper sticker; but it’s not nearly the whole story. I wrote a little about it being good, but today I want to write about virtue being a habit.

Rinse, and repeat!

I’ve heard various theories on how to form a habit. Some say, repeat an action for thirty consecutive days, and it will become a habit. Others say, repeat an action one hundred times, and it will become a habit. Others give variations with different numbers. But all focus on the repetition.

Now, I’ll grant that if you do something the same way enough times, you’ll develop a kind of habit: a sort of physical habit, like a proper golf swing – or so my dad tells me. But I don’t think this is quite the kind of habit that makes a virtue. Nor do I think it’s the easiest way to develop a habit.

Purposeful repetition

In my own experience, the ways I’ve developed habits most quickly and easily all have one thing in common: I had a strong sense of purpose when I repeated the action. When I was in the habit of daily exercise, there was a particular girl I wanted to impress. Now that I’m not trying to impress her, my habit of exercise has slipped away.

This cuts both ways. In fact, it helps explain why I develop habits of vice so much more quickly than habits of virtue. When I eat that extra bowl of ice cream, mmm! I get an instant affirmation of how nummy ice cream is. Meanwhile, when I’m trying to develop virtuous habits, I need to constantly remind myself why I’m doing it.

All you need is love!

I didn’t choose the example of trying to impress a girl at random. I was in love, and that love motivated me beyond myself. That is, after all, what true love will do: move me to some good beyond myself.

The trick, then, to developing virtuous habits is to fall in love with the results of virtue. Maybe it’s just to remind yourself of what it is you most love. Maybe it’s to draw out the connections between some virtuous action and the object of your love.

What I’m trying now (and I’ll let you know how this goes) is to listen carefully to the people I love most, and who love me best. I’m listening for what they think I’m doing well, and what they think I need to improve at. I’m doing this because I’m awfully good at convincing myself that I’m just fine, or that I’m utterly worthless. My friends give me a reality check.

Because that’s another thing love does: like every virtue, it puts me in touch with reality.

If you want a little help from some friends, join the quest! I know that we will grow more together than separately.

Through the secret and esoteric secrets of my archaic wisdom, you too will learn to demolish vice and sin with the lightsaber of the Spirit!

Or something like that.

Feeling adventurous? Join me, put an end to this useless conflict, and we will rule the galaxy as father and son!

Sarah asked in a comment:

So, here’s my question for you. What constitutes virtue? Is it REALLY virtuous to abstain from gobbling ice cream, or is it merely healthy? What is the difference between healthy habits and virtuous habits? Doesn’t virtue, by definition, have to benefit somebody ELSE? Or can you be virtuous and strictly self-serving at the same time?

I think that’s really two questions, (what is virtue? and, can virtue be self-serving?) so I’ll try to deal with them one at a time.

What constitutes virtue?

I’m mainly working from the Western classical definitions of the cardinal virtues and the theological virtues. The quickest and simplest definition I’ve come up with is, Virtue is a good habit.

But that assumes we all agree on what “good” means.

The approach I’m taking is that “good” (at least in this context) means, in accord with the design of nature. So, it is good for the eye to see colors. It is good for the heart to pump blood. It is bad if they don’t do these things.

But my own life is a lot more complicated than just organic functioning. I don’t just want what’s good for my body. I want what’s good for me as a person. And that includes things like: a sense of meaning in life; work that really contributes to the world around me; friendships that allow me to love and be loved; and ultimately (as I mentioned in the previous post) eternal union with God in heaven.

Your list may differ a little from mine. But I would guess it doesn’t differ all that much. The Greeks called this goal eudaimonia, which is usually translated “happiness”. It literally means “good spirit -ness” or “goodness of soul”. So virtue is a habit of life that leads to goodness of soul, to my good as a whole person.

How selfish!

I think it’s one of the problems of our contemporary culture that we tend to pit individuals against society or against institutions. So, if something is good for me, it must be bad for those around me. But I think that’s just not true. Amy pointed out in another comment some practical results of apparently selfish, yet virtuous, action.

But I think there’s a deeper explanation, too. We human beings are not, first and foremost, individuals. We are social beings. We grow and define ourselves in the context of other people, of cultures and institutions, of various kinds of relationships. There is nothing I can do that affects only myself.

When I grow in virtue, even in some small part of my life, (like keeping my bedroom clean, or eating more healthily,) then I also become a better part of the various communities I belong to. My housemates recognize that I can be trusted with my property; my friends notice that I am physically capable of more activity; and so on.

In short, what’s truly good for me is naturally, inevitably good for others, too.

Not according to Deacon Brian Doyle, who has leaked the Vatican’s Top-Secret Uber-Confidential list of “The order by which people are admitted to heaven.”

An excerpt:

To be admitted without review by committee: children under the age of 12, sixth-grade teachers, the mothers of triplets, … [snip] … bass players in rock bands, … [snip] … cartoonists, essayists, people who manufacture thimbles, and Presbyterians (see Appendix B).

… [snip] …

To be admitted only by special appeal to the Director: theatrical agents, anyone who ever sold marijuana or alcohol to a child, avant-garde artists, mimes, senators, Caesars, pharaohs, preachers, short-story writers (Flannery O’Connor excepted)

… [snip] …

To be admitted only after review by the Screening Board (Catherine of Siena, chairwoman), the Board of Appeals (Meher Baba, chairman) and the Last Gasp Committee (Cardinal Joseph Bernadin, chairman): poets, novelists, buskers, spies, New York Yankees fans.

I’m skeptical. Bass players, I totally get. And the exception for Miss O’Connor, absolutely. Yankees fans? Right where they belong. But novelists? Shouldn’t they be a bit higher on the list?

But what about the virtuous?

Well, virtue is its own reward, don’t you know?

Seriously, though. This does raise the whole question of why bother slogging after virtue at all. I mean, it’s an awful lot of work, and it never ends because it’s a daily struggle, and isn’t it just easier to be lazy and gluttonous? Isn’t it more fun to be greedy and lustful?

In other words, what’s in it for me?

And don’t try pushing that pie-in-the-sky opiate-of-the-masses junk on me!

Virtue, happiness, and heaven

Truth is, virtuous action can often be unpleasant in the moment. “What’s in it for me?” is not an unreasonable question. The answer lies in what our goal for life is.

Now, I won’t hide that I’m a Roman Catholic, and that I actually do believe that virtuous living is a part of getting into heaven. But I don’t think you need to believe in heaven to find greater happiness through virtue than through vice.

This is because, while vice satisfies some small desire right now, virtue leads to fulfilling the deep desires of a whole life. The vice of gluttony leads me to the pleasure of gobbling down a quart of ice cream in a single sitting; but the virtue of temperance leads me to a healthier body and more refined sense of taste … and, ironically, to a greater enjoyment of the smaller amount of ice cream that I do eat.

Augmented gratification

So the reason to take on some difficulty (like exercise) or abstain from some pleasure (like ice cream) is for the sake of a greater happiness. My parents and teachers called this “delayed gratification”, but that puts the emphasis on “delay”. I’m trying out the term “augmented gratification”, because the acts of facing difficulty or foregoing pleasure are done for the sake of increasing my ultimate happiness.

And thinking in those terms encourages me more to action. What do you think?

Wait a sec. Haven’t I been saying that virtue is a process that grows over time as you put in diligent practice and repetition?

Yup.

So what’s this “Instant Virtue” all about?

The Enemy: Procrastination

Here’s the thing: one of my greatest vices is procrastination. Never put off till tomorrow what you can put off till next week, I say.

So, if this is a vice I want to overcome, how do I practice the opposite virtue?

Procrastination is, at root, either intemperance (because I’m following false pleasures) or cowardice (because I’m afraid of difficulty or danger.) Now, I’m guilty of both of these; in fact, in me, I think they’re two sides of the same coin: I’m afraid of losing some false pleasure that I want more than reality.

The Weapon: Action

The opposing virtue, then, is temperate and courageous action. But me, being such a self-indulgent coward, I need to start small. Really small. Let me give you an example.

I need to put my dishes in the dishwasher as soon as I’m done eating. Granted, the effort is minimal, and the time spent is minimal, but for some reason I’m in the vicious habit of leaving the pasta sauce or the egg whites to dry and harden – which just makes those dishes harder to clean up later. So I need to take immediate action, both to grow in virtue and to increase true pleasure in my life.

I also need to fold or hang up my clothes when I take them off at night. At present, I tend to let them drop onto the floor or (if I’m particularly concientious) hang them on the back of my chair. This, of course, results in wrinkly clothes and a lack of wearable items when I’m most in need. And, if I’m honest, it’s truly rare that I’m so very exhausted that I can’t fold my trousers up.

Instant Virtue Over Time

I’ve already started building these good habits. I’m far from perfect: I have a sweater and a jacket sitting on the floor right now. But I’ll pick them up as soon as I’m done writing this.

But even in the week or so that I’ve been working on this, it’s helped me to pay my credit card bill on time, and to return some phone calls and emails promptly, and so on. I’m still a newbie grasshopper, but I’m already better than I was. I’m doing what needs doing, when it’s easiest to do. And that is a great start toward virtue.

If you want to start making progress down the path of virtue, please join the quest! We’ll make this journey together!

First off, welcome to all my new readers! I do appreciate your coming ’round. Please make yourself at home and check out the rest of the site. If you have any ideas on how I can improve it, let me know!

So, on to the regularly scheduled post, already in progress…

What Kind of Virtue Am I Seeking?

I’m pretty much working on the classical “cardinal” virtues, as well as the “theological” virtues, that have formed the cornerstone of Western ethical thought for the past two or three millennia. They are:

• Cardinal Virtues
• Prudence (sometimes called “practical wisdom”)
• Justice
• Fortitude (aka “Courage”)
• Temperance (sometimes called “self-control”)
• Theological Virtues
• Faith
• Hope
• Charity (aka, “Love” or “Agape”)

Now, I picked these because, frankly, they’re the most familiar to me and I’ve actually done some study on them. I know that lots of other people (from Confucius to Benjamin Franklin) have written about virtues, and come up with other lists. I’m hoping, as I keep writing this blog, to learn about some of those.

But for now, I’m going with what I know. And, since it’s held its own for several thousand years, I figure it’s a good enough place to start.

Where I’m Starting From

For me, at least, I think the main starting point will be Temperance. I’ve mentioned before that I’m less than perfect when it comes to my dietary habits. I also could stand to work on my sleep habits, and my time management, and so on. I’ll say more in the coming days.

What Is Temperance?

For now, I want to clarify a little how I understand Temperance. It’s not necessarily about cutting back; rather, I think it’s about putting the right things in the right place in my life. I should eat enough of the right kinds of food: not too much or too little, and not the wrong things (like an all chocolate diet, or a hemlock salad).

More than that, it’s about keeping my desires in line with reality. It’s about getting away from the fantasy that I can (much less, should!) feel absolutely fantastic all the time, that life should be a piece of cake, that what I want is the most important thing in the world.

It’s connecting to the reality that life has its ups and downs. It’s recognizing that some hard things are worthwhile, more worthwhile than some quick fixes.

And that’s what virtue is all about, as far as I can see: keeping in touch with reality.

I am well acquainted with failure. I’ve failed tests, failed whole courses. I’ve been fired from jobs, lost friends, burned bridges. Heck, I’ve even made my mother cry.

And yet, I find real hope and insight in that old saying, “The only real failure is the one who fails to try.”

Progress in Virtue

Virtue is not an either/or proposition. It’s not something you can “succeed” or “fail” at. It’s a journey of sorts. The real question is, how far along the road are you? The 90-year-old master still is walking the same road as the 13-year-old beginner, and both can stumble or turn the wrong way. And they both have the same choice to make, every day and in every action: to stay on the road, or to abandon it altogether.

So I keep reminding myself that virtue is something I make progress in, not something I succeed at. Even attempting to be more thoughtful, or more courageous, or more self-controlled – even if I fail in achieving some goal at the time – still is a step along the road. It’s a step toward greater prudence, greater fortitude, greater temperance. In short, it’s progress.

Practicing Virtue

Whenever I remember this, I look for opportunities to take another step, even a small step, along the road. It’s like practicing the piano (or, in my case, the bass guitar). If I take the time to practice scales and chord patterns, then it’s easier to play a song with other people.

And if I take the opportunity to think before I speak, or to face some small fear, or to let pass one bowl of ice cream, then I’m better prepared for bigger challenges, and for challenges that catch me by surprise. I’m a little further down the road, and even if I face a setback, it won’t set me back so far.

Learning from Experience

Saturday was not really a great day for me. I stayed in bed longer than I planned to. I didn’t finish the chapter I wanted to finish, didn’t call the friend I wanted to call, didn’t make it to the library or get the bathrooms cleaned. But I did get a little bit done. And yesterday, Sunday, I remembered how I just never got started on Saturday. So I learned from that: I got started right away, and Sunday turned out pretty well: made breakfast for my housemates, finished the chapter, met some new friends, and so on. Neither day was perfect, but both days saw me on the road. That’s the goal: just stay on the road.

Walking the road of virtue yourself? Join me and we’ll walk it together!

I’m currently reading through Aristotle’s Nicomachian Ethics, which is one of the foundations of all Western ethical thought. And I came across the following (Book VII, Chapter 5):

For every excessive state whether of folly, of cowardice, of self-indulgence, or of bad temper, is either brutish or morbid

He goes on to explain that “brutish” means that a person is acting more like an animal (a “brute” beast) than like a human; he gives the example of a man who is afraid of a mouse. Stereotypical, perhaps, but then again…

Now, why fear of mice is particularly “brutish” is beyond me. I might speculate that “cheesy” would be more apt, since the object that has most reason to fear a mouse is a round of cheese. But that’s just me.

Anyway, Aristotle also says that “morbid” means that a person is acting contrary to their own life, giving the examples of people who tear their hair out in anger, or chew their nails in nervousness.

So, seems to me that he’s saying: excessive states, aka, vices, involve either acting like something that you’re not or acting directly against yourself. Or, to put it positively, virtue involves acting like yourself.

Virtue and Nature
This is the key to understanding virtue as a way of life: that we need a certain training to act like ourselves, to act according to our own nature. Acting naturally doesn’t come easy. Indeed, we consider “natural” to be a high complement: when an athlete runs well, when a politician speaks eloquently, when a co-worker accomplishes a task with ease – in cases like these, we often say, “They do it so naturally!” They are fulfilling the potential of their nature.

A more telling phrase is maybe, “second-nature”. Many people have described the virtues in just this way, as developing a way of acting that is almost instinctive. But unless this “second nature” is in harmony with the first nature, with what it is to be human, then it becomes a vice.

Angels and Animals
Now, I often find myself swinging to one of two extremes: I tend either to indulge my merely physical (bestial?) appetites for food or rest or pleasure; or I tend to ignore my body and focus on my mental activity, as if it were somehow purer or higher. It’s sort of the dumb jock vs. the clumsy nerd. Or, in more classical terms, the beast vs. the angel.

Well, I’m neither a beast nor an angel. I’m a human being, a strange and incomprehensible combination of mind and body, of soma and psyche. Which means that the nature I’m striving for will involve improving every part of me, everything that really belongs to being human. Nothing left out. But also, no unrealistic expectations.

I should not try to soar like a hawk; I will crash. I should not try to escape into some abstract or ethereal plane of spiritual purity; I neglect myself if I neglect my body. But I can, and should, use my mind to guide my body towards health and wholeness. I can, and should, explore the kinds of things that my mind and body do well together as a unit – in other words, the things that I do well, the whole me. That is the goal of practicing virtue.