Virtue, according to the Greeks

You don’t even have to be Christian.

Huh?

So, at this point, I expect there are two groups of reactions to that sentence. First, from the Christians, I expect some flavor of “What do you mean you don’t have to be Christian?” And from the non-Christians (whether atheist or adherents of other religious traditions), “Why would you even ask that question? What does Christianity have to do with it?”

Here’s the thing. The virtues I’ve been studying arose in what’s called the Western philosophical tradition. Greeks like Plato and Aristotle wrote about them, and the early Christians picked up their ideas and ran with them. In developing the older, pagan ideas of virtue – ideas, by the way, which don’t fit neatly with the Jewish heritage of Christianity – they connected them to their theological notions, and significantly added three new virtues that were mentioned in the Bible: Faith, Hope, and Love.

The original Greek virtues were called Cardinal Virtues, since (like the cardinal directions on a compass) they point you in the right direction. The new ones were called Theological Virtues, because they are seen as gifts of God.

So I’m a Catholic myself, and I have no problem with some virtues being gifts from God. But I have big questions about how it works.

To start with, the virtues seem to overlap one another, or even replace one another. The obvious example is Charity trumping Justice: do you really need duty if you’re always going above and beyond duty?

At a slightly deeper level, it’s a little hard to see what’s particularly “theological” about the new virtues. After all, the goal is the same, isn’t it? All the virtues aim at making our lives more fully human, at helping us become who and what we’re meant to be. And you don’t have to believe in Jesus or have the life of the Holy Spirit in your heart to see that love is a good thing, that hope is important, even that faith – in the sense of trust and faithfulness – is central to living a properly human life.

And since I’m trying to build a career as a teacher of this stuff, shouldn’t I be able to explain it in some crystal clear way?

So here’s what I came up with.

The perfect cup

Maybe a royal Greek's coffee mug?

Now the goldsmith takes the cup to the king’s steward, who admires the cup. And the goldsmith is proud, and says, “It’s the perfect cup. You can’t get a better cup than this.”

But the steward says, “It’s excellent, no doubt. But it’s not perfect yet.”

The goldsmith is, understandably, heartbroken. “I can’t do anything more to improve it!” he cries.

“Of course you can’t,” says the steward. “But come with me.” And the steward leads the goldsmith to the palace’s cellars, where the royal vintner is maintaining the casks of wine. The steward hands the chalice to the vintner, and commands him to fill it with wine.

“Now,” says the steward, “it is a perfect cup.”

But the vintner laughs. “It’s beautiful, but it’s not perfect yet!” And he hands the cup full of wine to the steward, and tells him to drink. And as the steward tastes the wine, the vintner says, “Now that is a perfect cup!”

Perfection pointing to further perfection

So the cup itself has a kind of perfection in itself, but that perfection is directed toward the further perfections of being filled up, and being drunk from, even though it cannot achieve those perfections without something beyond itself.

Likewise, I can become a good human being in myself and by my own power; but being a good human individual is directed toward being a member of a community, toward receiving from others and giving to others. But these are not things I can accomplish without those others.

To go further, from the Catholic point of view, this shows how theologians can say that we are both created to share God’s life in heaven, and also utterly incapable of achieving that communion by our own power. A cup can’t be full unless wine is poured in from outside; but it first has to be a good cup, so that it will hold the wine that is poured in.

I hope this image is useful to someone else. It’s certainly been useful to me.

"Your lovin' gives me a thrill, but your lovin' don't pay my bills..."

I’m giving a talk at my parish tomorrow night (7:00 in the parish hall, if you’re in the neighborhood!) on usury and the morality of economics.

Usury has become a popular word, at least in some circles, for what’s wrong with our current economy. Too many people getting too greedy, and getting bailed out when their greed comes home to roost.

I think usury is one part of the problem, but it’s bigger than that. The other problem is straight up greed, which is not exactly the same as usury. Now, I’m not an economist, and I don’t understand the ins and outs of the whole system. My approach has been to take hold of the basic moral issues involved in economic life. And in my reading and thinking, these two themes have jumped out to center stage.

Reality

It’s no surprise to you who read this blog that I’m a big fan of reality. I think 99% of our problems come from a mismatch between what I think or what I want and what is actually the case.

Usury is an excellent example of this. As far as I can tell, the problem with usury is that the “interest” being charged is not connected to reality. As Thomas Aquinas puts it: “To take usury for money lent is unjust in itself, because this is to sell what does not exist.”

It is not a sin to ask for money to cover expenses that are real, or even to cover profits from lost opportunities. But to charge interest without any connection to some actual cost or loss is simply to demand that new money come out of nowhere. This is wrong because it is, ultimately, false and impossible.

Zippy, who sadly no longer blogs, had a series of excellent posts on why this is the case, and how it applies to our current economy. You can read his analysis, starting here, then part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. He eventually explores the territory of what a creditor has a right to reclaim from a debtor, and a bit on what kinds of “financial instruments” are licit, and why.

Greed is not good!

The other theme that jumped out at me was what today we call “profit motive” and what the medievals called “greed”.

The problem is not that production or trade turns a profit; as many have pointed out, there would be no business or trade without profit. As no less an authority than St. Paul says, “[T]he plowman should plow in hope and the thresher thresh in hope of a share in the crop.”

The problem is, rather, that profit is not good in itself. Profit is only a means to an end. It is both foolish and unjust to try to collect profit for its own sake, whether in the form of money or in the form of houses or artworks or anything else. Profit is meant to be used, not to make more profit, but to give benefit to people.

Now, those people can include oneself. It is good to make money in order to put food on the table. It is good to feed one’s family, too. It is good to feed one’s employees, and one’s stockholders, and their families. All this is putting profits to good use.

Likewise, it is good to use profits to upgrade one’s equipment, or to do research into better ways of making widgets or better ways to bring those widgets to market.

But it is not good to pursue or hold on to profits as if they were themselves the goal, the end of economic activity. In other words, using profit itself as a motive for work or business is greed, avarice, a deadly sin and a mortal vice.

The universal destination of goods

Why is this the case? After all, didn’t I work for that money? Didn’t I earn it? What does it hurt to try to add more to it, or to hold on to it? Am I saying everybody should be poor, or that it’s wrong to be rich?

To answer the last question first: No. Ideally, nobody would be poor, and it’s perfectly okay to be rich.

But there are two things going on here: first, as I hope is clear from what I wrote above, money is not a good in itself. It is a medium for exchange, and a measure of value. But it has no value in itself; it’s entire worth is that it makes buying and selling easier. If money doesn’t buy and sell, then it loses its entire purpose and value.

Second, and more importantly, my right to own things is not absolute or unlimited. The things I own are derived from nature and labor, from the world and the work we do on it. So yes, I have a right to the products of my labor, and to what I can buy and sell with that. But my right is rooted in the nature of the world, which cannot belong absolutely to anyone. I did not make the earth, and I have no claim to it above anyone else. Nature is a gift to all of us, and each of us has an equal claim to what we need from it.

So, although I can claim the good things I have got by working, my claim stops when someone is excluded or restricted from access to the good things they need to get by. The goods of nature are universal: they belong to everybody.

If my pursuit of profit, or my hoarding of money or products or whatever, prevents someone from working, or eating, or living a humane life, then that is wrong. Profit is meant to support the life and growth of human persons, both individually and as a society. I do not have a right to keep good things away from others, no matter how hard I’ve worked for them.

It is not wrong to be rich; but it is wrong to keep riches all to oneself.

When: 10:30am, Sunday 20 March 2011
Where: 5062 9th Avenue NE, Seattle – the downstairs room in the school across from the church

Here’s a chart I’m putting on the handout:

I expect that’s perfectly clear to anyone who thinks exactly as I do. The above organization is (as far as I know) my own invention. If anyone out there actually knows stuff about virtue ethics and thinks I’m barking up the wrong tree, or am just barking mad, please drop me a line and correct me. I’m working stuff out as I go.

Anyway, if you want to know what I’m talking about, come hear me talk!

Second, and far less importantly: I’ve had tech troubles with my old computer for the past few months. Random crashes and so on. It finally became intolerable, so I have a shiny new laptop. (Okay, it’s actually a matte finish.) Now I have to constantly remind myself that cool new toys do not equal happiness.

“Yes, I love technology / though not as much as you, you see / but still, I love technology / always and forever…”

Why are you looking at me that way? Haven't you ever met a man named "Hilaire"?

I’ve just finished reading Hilaire Belloc’s The Servile State. His main argument is that Capitalism is an unstable economic structure which must, sooner or later, settle into a more stable economic structure. The two possibilities for stable structures are slavery and property, and the one we are rapidly descending toward is slavery.

I’m not 100% on board with his argument on the necessary development of capitalism, but I find that anyone who tries to predict the future is very lucky to get even one thing right, and he does a great job of describing the development of such systems as minimum wages, social security, and some dynamics between “labor” and “capital” that had not yet begun in 1912 when he published his book.

The very best part of the book is the beginning where Belloc defines his terms. And the best distinction he makes, or the one most eye-opening to me anyway, is the distinction between political and economic freedom.

Political and economic freedom

Political freedom is what we usually mean when we talk about, well, freedom in the political realm. It’s the freedom to take part in government. It includes such things as freedom of speech, some sort of franchise such as the ability to vote or to serve in public office, and freedom to bring one’s case to court for a fair trial.

Economic freedom is the ability to buy or sell without constraint. This includes both buying and selling products and services, so it includes selling one’s labor. That is, it includes the freedom to hire oneself out – or to not hire oneself out.

Now, the freedom to not hire yourself out depends on the ability to go into business for yourself. That is to say, you have to possess the means to produce some good or provide some service directly, on your own behalf, rather than contributing to someone else’s products or services. As Belloc puts it, you must have either land or capital or both.

If you have land, you can plant your own crops and feed yourself, theoretically, without dependence on anyone else. If everybody did this we would lose most of what we call “civilization,” but we would certainly not have to worry about unemployment or political strife.

If you have tools – and today, tools could include anything from your own forge, hammer, and anvil to your own computer and printer – you are able, theoretically, to produce good products for your own use or for sale, again without dependence on anybody else.

If you lack land or capital, that is, if you lack the means to produce goods, then you lack economic freedom. “Wage slavery” is more than a catchy phrase: it describes your actual condition. You are not free to withhold your labor from another or to use it according to your own judgment.

Capitalism, according to Belloc

Now, by Belloc’s definition, “Capitalism” is that state of affairs where a few members of society own most of the means of production, and a large portion of society are dispossessed of the means of production and therefore must hire themselves to the owners. This would seem to be a fair description of America at the beginning of the 21st century: most of us work for a company or corporation, and the assumption is that you will earn your bread as an employee rather than as an independent producer.

That is why the political mantra has been “Jobs! Jobs! Jobs!” rather than “Work! Work! Work!” We are assuming that we need somebody to hire and pay us for our labor, because our labor is about the only thing we have to sell.

Now, I don’t think that Belloc is saying that hiring oneself out to another is necessarily a bad thing – so long as you are free to choose whether and to whom you hire yourself. And one of the many problems with our economic system is that people are reduced to saying, “I’ll take any job I can get.” We are forced to place ourselves on the auction block and beg people to bid on us. We could almost be called “productivity prostitutes” as much as “wage slaves.”

The solution that brings human freedom, usually called distributism, is for more people to own their own means of production. That is, that you have something to contribute to society, by which you can put food on your own table and clothes on your own children, without being forced to work for somebody else. This would be a world full of entrepreneurs and small-business owners. Belloc notes that, until the sixteenth century, most of Europe was structured this way; but that world is nearly lost.

I don’t see things as quite so desperate as does Belloc. For example, many people are responding to the current economic crisis by starting their own business, by re-acquiring their own means of production. But it’s true that this is still a small movement in a very large society. And it will be quite an uphill battle to move from our current system to one where most people are free to work for themselves if they should so choose.

I’m still thinking about what practical steps to take, but I’m increasingly convinced by the distributist ideal. At the very least, it seems to be an attempt to see government and the market at the service of the human person, rather than the other way around.

Who wouldn't want to wear one of these fancy hats?

When talking politics with people, I often mention that I’m in favor of monarchy. It’s half-joking: my last name is King, after all, and I do answer to “Your Majesty.”

But it’s only half joking.

With a monarch, especially a hereditary monarch, you’re under no illusions that the guy (or gal) on the throne is there for any reason other than the luck of the draw. He’s not king because he’s smarter, or more popular, or more effective than anybody else. He just happened to have the right parents.

That said, you also have a pretty good idea if somebody’s in the running to be king from childhood, and you can educate the kid accordingly. So you can give him the best chance at being a good ruler that anyone can have.

I’m not saying there are no problems with monarchy; there are plenty, and when it goes bad a monarchy becomes the worst form of tyranny. But I like to stir up a discussion, and I’m far from convinced that “democracy” – especially as practiced here in the U.S. – is the best solution for every time and place. That rather knee-jerk adoration of democracy seems to be one of the few things Democrats and Republicans can agree on, which is one of the many reasons I don’t trust either major party.

So imagine how delighted I was to run across some well-reasoned articles by a smarter guy than myself, John Médaille, on the notion of monarchy. He’s planning a three-part series, and has published the first two here (1) and here (2). The second, especially, is worth a read because he lays out some of the differences between monarchy and the early modern abuses of it which tainted our ideas of the institution. I’m looking forward to his third installment!

The twenty-fifth day of December.
In the five thousand one hundred and ninety-ninth year of the creation of the world from the time when God in the beginning created the heavens and the earth;
the two thousand nine hundred and fifty-seventh year after the flood;
the two thousand and fifteenth year from the birth of Abraham;
the one thousand five hundred and tenth year from Moses and the going forth of the people of Israel from Egypt;
the one thousand and thirty-second year from David’s being anointed king;
in the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel;
in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;
the seven hundred and fifty-second year from the foundation of the city of Rome;
the forty second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus;
the whole world being at peace,
in the sixth age of the world,
Jesus Christ the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father,
to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming,
conceived by the Holy Spirit,
and nine months having passed since his conception,
was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the Virgin Mary,
being made flesh.
The Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh.

Now, what you heard in church was probably a slightly different version, updated with somewhat contemporary science (“unknown ages from the time when God created the heavens and the earth,” etc.) which is good in that it dodges the presumption that we have exact knowledge of the history of the universe but bad in that it loses a great deal of the poetry of the traditional version. Such is life: we can’t have all good things all the time.

But what I love about the Proclamation is that it places Jesus Christ in the very midst of history and fact. As the time of Jesus’ birth draws near, the revised and the traditional versions are almost identical, because these are historical events we know with much greater accuracy and certainty. And the point is that the Christmas miracle is not some unknown philosophical idea or moral code or community feeling.

The Christmas miracle is that an infinite God of pure spirit entered into full union with the material world he created in the person of Jesus, son of Mary.

The Christmas miracle is that Creator and creation are no longer divided, but are related.

And the Christian religion stands or falls on the truth or falsehood of this concrete historical claim. Christianity is not a moral code, though Jesus Christ does offer moral teachings. It is not a philosophical system, though philosophers have built systems on its foundation. It is not a a social or political ideology, though knowledge of Christ expresses itself in some social and political ways. Rather, Christianity at its heart is a relationship between the God who is Love and the world that he loved into being. Love always seeks the good of the beloved; so God gave the greatest good he could, his infinite self, in the only way a finite world could truly receive him, in a simple human being.

That is the great mystery and miracle and true spirit of Christmas. May yours be blessed!

I’m worried about an FBI team who contacts an isolated individual who’s failing to make contact with jihadist radicals, teaches him how to make a bomb, helps him to plan and carry out an attack, and chooses a large and public venue to arrest him.

I’m worried about an Attorney General who claims “that if Mohamud hadn’t come in contact with the FBI, he ‘would have made his plans tragically real.’”

And I’m worried about mass media outlets that just repeat the line that this is a plot that has been “thwarted” or “foiled.”

For the record, it sounds to me like this Mohamud fellow may actually have become a threat on his own someday. He very well may have warranted observation by the FBI. But the way the Bureau pursued this investigation sounds very much like entrapment for Mohamud and fear-mongering for the rest of us.

“Look!” says the FBI & co., “here’s a home-grown terrorist you should be afraid of! It could be anybody! What’s a little inappropriate pat-down compared to the risk of being bombed while lighting a Christmas Tree? What’s a little warrantless wiretapping or email surveillance next to, you know, a west coast 9-11?”

What would have been wrong with just watching this kid, and seeing what he does on his own? At least then, he might have actually led investigators to a real terrorist cell, and could have led to some genuine intelligence of real plots to commit terrorist acts. And, when arrested, he might have been guilty of a real crime.

As it is, he’s just become the solitary target of an FBI plot to … to what? boost their own ratings? I hope not. To foil and thwart terrorist attacks? Not very effectively.

I want good security and I want active intelligence gathering on terrorist activities. But that’s not what this was. At best, this was a colossal mistake. If anyone in the FBI is reading this, please, don’t make the same mistake again.

No need to wait for Thanksgiving Day

I’ve mentioned before that I have some trouble with gratitude; my self-centered sense of entitlement is uncomfortable with needing to thank anyone for anything.

This is why I’m always glad for the fourth Thursday in November to roll around. Though it’s a “secular” feast, Thanksgiving Day accomplishes everything a sacred holy day should: it draws me out of myself and directs me to others, and particularly to the transcendent reality that surrounds us. It reminds me that life is a gift, and that the proper response to a gift is, “Thank you.”

So, in the spirit of the holiday, I’m making a gratitude list. Here are some (definitely not all) of the people and things for which I give thanks:

• My parents
• The English language, and all those who gave it such beauty – Chaucer, Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen, Tolkien, etc.
• My friends; I’d start listing your names, but you are legion and are all far better than I deserve
• Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle, Augustine of Hippo, and Thomas Aquinas – for teaching me how to think more clearly
• Saints like Catherine of Alexandria, Dominic Guzman, Catherine of Siena, Thomas More, and John Henry Newman – for showing me that what is impossible for me is possible for God
• Public libraries – ’nuff said
• Twenty-first century communications technology
• Garlic, chocolate, bacon, blue cheese, which all add so much joy to the obligation of eating
• Clouds
• Cardigan sweaters
• Dishwashers and washing machines
• Mountains, and the snow that caps them

I’m sure that, if I spent more time, I could keep on adding to this list. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, for example. But it’s a start. And if you want, feel free to tell me what you’re grateful for in the comments.

Happy Thanksgiving Day!

My mother, drunk or sober

Here in Washington State, we have a “Find Your Legislator” feature on the website, as well as contact info for our elected officials. I happen to live in north Seattle, which is Washington’s 46th Legislative District (for state offices) and 7th Congressional District (for federal offices). That means the people I’ll be looking up are:

• U.S. Senator Maria Cantwell
• U.S. Senator Patty Murray
• U.S. Representative Jim McDermott
• U.S. President Barack Obama
• Washington Senator Scott White
• Washington Representative David Frockt
• Washington Representative Phyllis Gutierrez Kenney
• Washington Governor Christine Gregoire

These are all Democrats, so I expect most of my comments will end up directed toward the Democratic Party’s platform. I expect to have plenty of criticism, both of the party and of these individuals’ particular votes and speeches. However, I hope that it is clear that my being against (or for) something held by Democrats is not to be taken as being for (or against) anything held by Republicans. I have seen plenty of reprehensible behavior from members of both major parties, and I do hope to discover at least some noble behavior from my own elected officials. I hope to have my native cynicism about politics softened by real encounters with real public officials.

I plan to post my letters here on the blog. Should I receive responses to my letters, I will post them in their entirety. I hope it will encourage others to also write regularly to their elected officials. If you like what I say, or how I say it, feel free to copy any of my language and use it in your own letters. If you think I’m off base, don’t hesitate to tell me so. A democratic republic requires open and lively dialogue to remain free and true to itself.

More than that, I hope that doing a little research every week will build a solid foundation of knowledge for being a better citizen. Then, when the next election comes around in a couple years, I won’t have to scramble so much to figure out who and what to vote for.