Virtue Quest

How much of the world's weight should I carry?

I consider tolerance to be a kind of stop-gap, a second-best, a hand-me-down virtue at most. For example, if I said to my beloved, “Darling, I tolerate you,” I would deserve the slap I would receive. Tolerance is the virtue of bearing with some necessary but undesirable thing. It is not the ideal toward which I strive.

That said, tolerance is a real virtue, even if a secondary one: I would place it as a sub-virtue of Fortitude or Courage, as a form of patience and perseverance. But it is only virtuous when directed to something that is both undesirable and necessary.

It’s clear to me that other people don’t fall into the category of “undesirable.” A human being is, by his or her very existence, good. This particular person may be inconvenient or uncomfortable – or even dangerous – to me at this particular time. But what is undesirable is not that person’s humanity; the inconvenience or danger is what is bad.

What isn’t so clear to me, sometimes, is whether I myself fall into that “undesirable” category. (more…)

"And sorry I could not travel both / And be one traveler, long I stood..."

Discernment is the process of seeing something more clearly. The reason to see something more clearly is to know how to act toward whatever is seen.

Pretty simple, right?

It’s one of those “easier said than done” things. There are two obstacles, at least two that I’ve encountered in my own life:

1. Admitting that I don’t see things very clearly to begin with
2. Actually acting on what I’ve discovered to be true

Seeing clearly

In terms of virtues, discernment falls under the virtue of prudence or wisdom: it is the skill of looking closely at oneself and the world to find a clear understanding of what one is to do.

There are other aspects of prudence, too. (more…)

Classical virtue - very classy

I was talking with a friend this weekend, and she said that she was a little confused when she first visited my blog because it wasn’t clear what kind of virtue I was talking about. So I took another look at the page, and I realize that the words “classical” and “cardinal” are entirely missing from the page.

I’ll rectify that soon, but in the meantime I realized that it never hurts to take another look at the big picture.

The classical virtues

The main reason I’m writing this blog is as a kind of public self-improvement exercise. I’ve found that the classical philosophy of virtue describes my strengths, my faults, and my potential. It also gives a very practical structure to work on overcoming my weaknesses and to work toward my potential.

These virtues are traditionally grouped under the four “cardinal” virtues and the three “theological” virtues: (more…)

"Have you read my new book?"

I just returned from breakfast with George Weigel – he happened to pick my table to sit at – who was this morning’s speaker for the Catholic Professionals of Seattle. The basic gist of his talk was to promote his newest book: The End and the Beginning, which is a “sequel” and a completion of his 1999 biography of Pope John Paul II, Witness to Hope.

There was a bit of cold war spy drama, and a bit of “Lifestyles of the Holy and Famous,” and a bit of Vatican inside baseball; but one detail from his presentation jumped out at me. He said that he took part of the structure of his book from the process of canonization – the Catholic Church’s process of declaring someone a saint. One of the stages asks witnesses to describe the potential saint’s life in terms of the theological and cardinal virtues: Faith, Hope, and Charity; Prudence, Justice, Courage, and Temperance. Mr. Weigel noted, as an aside, that it’s an interesting exercise to look at life through the lens of the virtues, but that most people don’t do it.

A life out of focus

The virtues really form the only lens that has been able to bring my own life in to focus. But I only stumbled upon them by accident, myself. The classical model of virtue runs almost directly counter to most of twenty-first century American culture.

Now, Americans tend to value daring, or initiative, or valor; and that quality is similar to courage. Americans appreciate cleverness and foresight; those are certainly aspects of prudence. And it goes almost without saying that Americans are passionate about rights, which are a part of the virtue of justice.

However, American culture takes these values for granted, as a collection of qualities whose importance is assumed to be self-evident. In fact, it’s a kind of jumble that ultimately serves another purpose: one’s own interests.

Following the more-or-less normal course of life, I always found myself confused: should I take a risk or should I follow the safe course? Should I insist on my rights or make sure I’m not trampling someone else’s? Should I pursue my own interests or those of my employer/family/country?

Putting life in focus

When I discovered the idea of the virtues, I finally found a principle to help me answer all those questions. Like putting on my glasses, it brought all the fuzzy shapes into focus, and I could see more clearly what to do – and, more importantly, why to do it.

The virtues depend on one another. Love, or Charity, shows us what is good, and drives us to pursue it. Prudence shows us what is real, and sorts out the details of the situation as it really exists. These two virtues form the bedrock and cornerstone of our lives.

Justice and Faith both guide us in knowing what to do: we give to everyone what belongs to them, and we recognize them as fellow children of God, infinite in dignity and worthy of profound respect. These virtues form the framing structure that gives shape to our lives.

Hope, Courage, and Temperance all give us the strength or the stamina to follow through on the loving and prudent actions that Justice and Faith guide us to do. They support us in the face of despair, or fear, or temptation. They are like cross-braces that give a building strength and stability.

Taken together, the virtues describe the whole form of a person’s life.

An end and a beginning?

As Mr. Weigel points out in the life of Pope John Paul II, the virtues allow us to understand the depth and complexity of a man whose actions sometimes appeared confusing or contradictory to American eyes.

But I find virtue is as important at the beginning of each day as it is at the end of a life. I ask, how can I understand my own life; and how can I bring it to be the best life I can carry out, the kind of life I was created to live?

I'll just play one more level....

[A historical note: I started writing this post over a week ago... and have only now got round to finishing it. Urp!]

I think I mentioned that I’d given up computer games for Lent. I’m not much of a gamer, as gamers go. Spider solitaire and a third-party version of Risk are my favorites. Never got into the MMOGs. But I’ll be honest, those games can waste hours at a time. That’s plural hours. As in, way too many.

So, that’s a big reason I’ve been slowly growing sleep deprived since Easter Sunday. End of day comes, and I think, hey, I’m allowed my games. And next thing I know it’s 1am (or later), and I have to be up for work the next morning.

Run away! Run away!

Sure, I play games to relax. But it often becomes something more than that. It turns into an attempt to escape from my life.

Not that my life is all that rough. But I am, as I’ve said, a lazy man and I resist any intrusion on my comforts. It quickly becomes a matter of principle: if work takes time away from leisure, then play takes time away from sleep.

Sleep, of course, ultimately takes its time back … usually at the least convenient moment.

All of this could have been avoided if only I’d been a little more disciplined, a little more realistic. I just don’t have all the time I’d like to play and relax and make a fool of myself. None of us do. There’s lots of good in life, but some parts of life are just plain tough, and that’s normal.

Penance and parties

I think that’s one of the lessons of Lent: that part of life is hard work, is difficult, even painful. But the penance leads to a celebration: our work bears fruit, and there’s a greater joy than the mere escape of vegging out with a computer game.

So I’m trying to remind myself of the good things that arise from giving up computer games and other distractions – good things like a full night’s sleep and the ability to enjoy life the next day.

And when I restrict my game playing to times when I really have nothing better to do, I find I actually enjoy the game more. Who’d have thought it?

Eons ago, during the SuperBowl, Old Spice premiered a commercial which became an instant hit. Among the reasons, I think, is because it’s a great example of virtue. Here’s the commercial:

Virtue?

Yes, virtue. First off, it’s encouraging both men and women to strive for excellence. Men, smell like an excellent man. Here’s what the ideal is. (“Sadly, your man isn’t me. But he could smell like me…”) Strive for this. And women, hold your men accountable, accept nothing less than an excellent man.

On top of that, the humor is a humor of excellence: it’s highlighting the absurdity of its claims in the midst of claiming them: “Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not like a lady.” Obviously not – but great things are possible when you strive for excellence, for virtue. Meanwhile, there’s a joyful exuberance in the exaggeration that I can’t help but laugh at – even after watching it a dozen times or more.

Finally, there’s the artistry of the filmmaking. The commercial is all one shot, with almost no animated effects. (The diamonds were the only part edited in.) Here’s a rather long-winded interview with some of the filmmakers. It’s almost twenty minutes, but it shows the lengths they were willing to go in order to produce a truly excellent commercial. The writers had great faith in the crew, the actor showed exceptional temperance (“He was spot on for every take”) and the director had the courage to attempt such a complex piece of work.

Beautiful. Downright inspiring. Can’t help but love it.

So: go and do likewise.

Pure concentrated goodness?

Siobhan asked me if I was ever going to write about anything besides prudence. My short answer is, yes-and-no.

The long answer is that, the way I see it, writing about any one of the virtues really entails writing about them all. Every virtue implies every other, ultimately. The names are simply a matter of focus.

… from a certain point of view…

As far as I know, this approach to virtue is something I made up on my own, so I welcome anybody to correct or refine what I’m saying here.

It seems to me that the virtues are not exactly separate things from each other, but distinct aspects of a virtuous action.

So, any given action – for example, eating a bowl of ice cream (one of my favorite actions!) – can be seen from the perspective of prudence, or justice, or fortitude, or temperance. For that matter, you can look at it from the point of view of faith, or hope, or love.

My thinking is still a bit muddy, but I find the cardinal virtue / theological virtue distinction to be valuable here, showing two major lenses to use in looking at actions.

Cardinal virtues

So, in deciding about eating a bowl of ice cream, one can ask whether it is prudent. That is, is eating ice cream really a good thing for me in my current situation?

One can also ask, is it temperate? That is, are my desires within me in harmony with the truth and facts I’ve prudently discovered? Or, is it courageous? That is, must I overcome obstacles in order to achieve the good that I have prudently discovered?

Finally, one acts. And one asks, is this action just? That is, am I pursuing good in accordance with reality, opposing my false desires and overcoming obstacles?

So, prudence discovers the good; fortitude and temperance clear the way to pursuing that good, one by overcoming external obstacles and the other by opposing internal disorders; and justice acts to pursue the good. All the virtues collaborate in the process of taking action, and any given action is virtuous to the extent that it conforms to all the cardinal virtues.

Theological virtues

I see the theological virtues as a kind of parallel. Faith discovers the good – not merely relying on my own reason, but trusting in the testimony of others. Hope clears the path to the good by putting false desires and external obstacles in proper perspective. And love acts for the good, even by laying down one’s life for one’s beloved.

So the theological virtues build upon the cardinal virtues and express them, not merely from my own individual and human perspective, but from a higher perspective, even a divine perspective.

What about the ice cream?

I understand that the greatest question here may be, “Yeah, but did you eat the ice cream?”

How could you be in any doubt? Ice cream is a form of pure concentrated goodness.

Of course I ate the ice cream!

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

I’ve had much fodder for reflection on procrastination in the last week or so. I’ve managed to avoid both desired and necessary tasks (such as writing or laundry) while still staying awake till the wee hours with the important work of advancing yet another level in an online game.

If there’s one thing I’m truly expert at, it’s putting off what needs doing.

The nature of my procrastination

I used to describe my procrastination as “not wanting to do something.” As in, “I don’t want to do laundry; I’d rather advance yet another level in this stupid online game.” I would think of it as a competition between an immediate pleasurable good and a remote and/or difficult good. My vice lay in preferring instant gratification.

But this past week, I noticed something. It’s not so much “I don’t want to do {X} (because I’d rather do {Y})” as it is “I want NOT to do {X}.” That is, I’m actively avoiding some activity {X} that I know is good and even necessary – even enjoyable! – and will accept nearly any substitute {Y}, even things that are less enjoyable than {X}, rather than do what is good.

I’m avoiding laundry. I’m running away from laundry.

So … am I afraid of laundry?

Procrastination and fear

I honestly don’t know what I’m afraid of. My shrink calls this, “self-destructive behavior,” which is one of the few psychological terms I comprehend immediately.

But it is absolutely clear to me that I am not “preferring” one good over another. Instead, I am fleeing headlong from something I know to be good, and using whatever excuse is at hand to aid my flight.

It seems that I am intent on sabotaging my own desire and efforts at happiness. There is something about happiness, virtue, goodness, that utterly terrifies me and that I am unwilling (as yet) to face directly.

Virtue and psychology

Psychology and virtue approach the problem from almost opposite angles. Psychology starts with understanding the problem, its roots and causes, and proceeds to prescribe a cure. Virtue, on the other hand, starts with action, and expects understanding to follow upon developing a habit of right action.

I think both approaches are valuable – at least, they have been to me. They both have given me tools to live a better life than I have before, and to hope for a life better still in the future.

But neither of them works alone. Psychology without virtue leads to navel-gazing. And virtue without psychology leads to ignoring the underlying causes so long as they can be covered by mechanical action.

I know I’m over-simplifying. Classical virtue ethics, after all, is all about the formation of one’s character – and not about the mechanical “rightness” of one’s actions. And psychology ultimately seeks a healing of the whole person, including one’s choices and behavior.

Where I am, right now

So I have no profound advice to give here. All I have today is a new recognition of where I am, and a hope that this recognition will allow me to stand fast in the face of my laundry.

You just can't stop!

You do remember Tetris, don’t you?

Of course you do. Those blocks keep coming, faster and faster… at a certain point I would just give up and let them stack like a skyscraper. But apparently there were Tetris experts who could play for twelve hours straight! Cuh-ray-zee.

So I was thinking about how to explain the process of building a habit, and it was Tetris that came to mind.

The blocks don’t stop!

In real life, as in Tetris, new situations keep appearing and they have to be fit into life as it is, whether we like it or not. There’s no choosing what shows up on the horizon. And there’s no stopping it. Life will keep coming at us, at a steady pace of twenty-four hours every day, for the rest of our lives.

But, there are ways to deal with it, to keep from being overwhelmed, even to use the strangely-shaped situations that life throws our way to the good. It’s like clearing a line in Tetris: when we arrange the different parts of life into the proper order, they cease to cause problems.

And, as we practice arranging our lives, we get better at it. Maybe we even begin to see new “problems” rather as “opportunities” to fill a gap, or to discover a new way of ordering life.

Perseverance is a virtue

Now, I’ve already mentioned that, in playing the game, I eventually give up out of frustration. I have to admit that I’m tempted to do the same in my life. I have friends who always get going whenever the going gets tough. I admire them tremendously. For myself, I tend to avoid the situation, to procrastinate, or even to hide.

That’s because, at root, I’m basically a coward. And perseverance is a kind of sub-virtue of fortitude. It’s the courageous act of facing every obstacle as it comes, no matter how many obstacles there are. It’s the refusal to surrender in the face of ongoing adversity.

Growing in perseverance

So here’s what I’m doing to overcome my cowardice: I’m setting a schedule. I’m pacing myself. I’m writing a to-do list, and putting the tasks in order of priority. In short, I’m taking a little time to strategize, to arrange my life as it exists, and to plan out where those incoming events can fit into it.

But just as importantly, I’m giving up the fantasy that someday it will all become easy. I think that’s the ultimate root of my fear: I think that life ought to be easy, and I’m frustrated when my dreams don’t arrive on a silver platter.

That is a lie. It’s time to face the fact that, whatever I might want, life will keep coming at me. I can’t put the game away; it’s not a game. But I can start looking at life as a series of opportunities rather than as a series of problems. I can look for how new situations can fit into some kind of order – even if it’s an order I hadn’t planned on.

If you want to find new ways to bring order to your life, too, please join the quest for virtue! We can learn from each other, and grow together!

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

tick ... tick ... tick ...

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!