Virtue Quest

First off, I apologize for the sparse posting this week. Many turkeys in the oven, so to speak.

Fiction as a “virtual reality”

This is a little off topic for the blog, but what the heck: it’s only a blog after all. In addition to this blog, I’m a fiction writer as well. Being both neurotic and an introvert, I spend way too much time interrogating myself about whether it’s good or realistic or productive or whatever to write stories.

This is how I justify it to myself. I hope that my justification has some basis in reality. (more…)

I mentioned a little while ago that I wanted to strike up a conversation with my elected officials in an attempt to be a better citizen. The first step, I think, is learning a bit about them. Since I’m not much of a politics wonk, this will take me some time. But I hope that, by January when the new terms of office begin, I’ll have an idea of who they are and what they stand for – and, therefore, what I want to say to them.

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: (more…)

Here’s a resource to find out just how many ways your thoughts can go wrong: The Fallacy Files!

Use with caution. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing!

Hat tip to Mark, who’s forgotten more about the internet than I’ll ever know.

So, as I mentioned in the comments below, I’m an economic and political ignoramus, and I’m essentially live-blogging my self-education. So, of course, Adam Smith’s classic The Wealth of Nations is on my reading list; I’m working through it now.

Now, I’ve been told that Smith isn’t quite the die-hard laissez faire 100% regulation free super-capitalist my mother warned me about. I’m advised that he’s quite a moral guy, and sees an important role for government regulation in the marketplace, but that those parts come later in the book. I’m happy to keep reading.

But there are a few major red flags popping up in the first few chapters, and I thought I’d mention them because they all have one thing in common: they put things ahead of people.

Unwarranted assumptions

Smith makes a number of assertions at the beginning of his work, (more…)

The following is the article I mentioned below, originally printed in Gleanings in their September 2010 issue (.pdf). They’ve been kind enough to let me reprint it here. Legal notices at the bottom.

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A friend of mine loves to delve into the roots of words. She loves discovering distant relations between words that reveal their deeper meanings. For example, the other day we explored the relationships between words like “lector” and “election” and “collect” — all of which have descended from the Latin verb legere, which means to gather, or to choose, or to read (because reading is about choosing the correct meaning of the word on the page).

In the same way, phrases have “family histories” as well. The phrase, “strike while the iron is hot” comes from the fact that a blacksmith had to watch for the iron to turn just the right color — red hot, or white hot, or somewhere between — so that his hammer could have just the right effect. The phrase doesn’t mean just to take action; it means to take the right kind of action at the right time.

“Strike while the iron is hot” advises us to be diligent in all areas of life. And diligence, oddly enough, is another legere word: it means to collect information and select the right action in response. But it means even more than that.

Holy Diligence

St. Thomas Aquinas, the greatest theologian of the medieval Church, teaches that “diligence” refers to the same virtue as “solicitude,” which also refers to the same virtue as “vigilance.” To be diligent is to be watchful, to be attentive, to be careful about matters that are important. But there is even more meaning than that in this word. The Latin word Thomas uses, diligere, means “to prize, love, esteem highly.” So, when he explains why “diligence” is the same as “solicitude” (meaning attentive care or concern) he says, “the more we love (diligimus) a thing the more solicitous are we about it.”

In other words, diligence is a form of love: it is the kind of love that chooses something to be our own, and takes care of it. It is the love that pays attention to what we love, because we have taken responsibility for it.

This is, of course, one of the ways that God loves us: he chooses each one of us to be his own. He watches over us, and attends to our needs. He provides what is important to keep us safe and to show our value to him.

He gives us his Son, who chose to join himself to us “in the fullness of time” – that is to say, when the iron was hot – in our journeys and in our labors and even, ultimately, in agony and death. He did this because he prized us and chose us to be his own.

He gives us his Spirit, his very life, his own power of love, to watch over each one of us and to guide each of us toward the joy he has prepared for us.

How to Be Diligent

Because we have his Spirit, we also have his love. That means that, just as he does, we can love with diligence. We can choose someone to be our own — as we do in friendship, or in marriage. We can collect all those things good and necessary for the one we love — as we do for our children. We can watch for the right moment, for the opportunity to demonstrate our love — as we do when someone needs help or wants company.

And, as much as we love one another diligently, God calls us to love him diligently as well.

Of course, God doesn’t need anything from us; we don’t have to take care of him. But we do have to take care of our relationship; that’s how we choose him to be our own.

For example, I sometimes go to daily Mass after work. In the evening I’m usually tired and I have developed a bad habit of nodding off during the readings or the homily. But I’ve discovered that if I’m diligent, if I make sure I get a good night’s sleep and eat a snack in the mid-afternoon, I’m able to stay awake. I’m able to be attentive and present to my God, who is making himself available and present to me. And I keep from distracting the rest of the congregation with my snoring.

I’m a naturally lazy man, and I know I won’t find time to pray unless I set aside time in my daily planner, just as I would for any other important appointment. And, just like an important appointment, there’s some preparation that goes into getting ready for the meeting. So I remind myself to take time for spiritual reading — usually the Bible or some spiritual master. I know that if I want to see clearly what God is doing in my prayer and in my life, I’d better set up some reminders to be careful and attentive, to keep watchful, to make my choice active in every moment of my life.

The Danger of Negligence

The opposite of diligence is negligence. If “diligence” means “to choose for one’s own,” then “negligence” is the “neg”-ative of choice. Negligence is the refusal to choose, and therefore the refusal to love. Negligence says, “You are not worth my attention.”

Jesus tells many parables warning us against negligence. In the parable of the sower, what is the problem with the rocky or the thorny soil? They both neglect to fully receive Christ. Or, what would happen to the treasure in the field or the pearl of great price if the merchant neglected them? Their value and worth would never be found. And of course, what is the difference between the wise and foolish virgins waiting for the bridegroom? The foolish ones neglected to prepare their lamps with oil.

What is the point of all these parables? That if we treat God with negligence, if we refuse to put time and care into our relationship with him, we will miss him when he comes. We will not recognize him because we have neglected to get to know him. This means that we will neglect to enter eternal life with him in Heaven, as some of the parables make clear; but it also means that we will miss out on the gifts and joys and blessings he offers us every day. If we neglect the foretaste of Heaven now, we will not be able to taste and see his goodness then.

The Joy of Diligence

On the other hand, the time put into preparation and the effort of watching attentively pays off abundantly in those life-changing moments, those times when we must make a decision and make it now — to change a career, to enter a relationship with someone, to follow a call to priesthood or religious life — and we find ourselves ready. We have chosen God as our greatest good, we have collected the gifts and blessings he has given us, and we recognize the shape and color of his love in this moment. Like the blacksmith, we know when the iron is ready to be shaped, and we have the tools at hand to shape it according to God’s glorious design.

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Copyright © 2010 WWCCR, reprinted with permission.

One great thing about After Virtue is the way MacIntyre lays out the differences between various historical theories of virtue. And this has made me aware that I’ve been assuming something I really shouldn’t assume.

That is, I’ve assumed that the highest and primary virtue is Love, or Charity. All the other virtues are only virtues insofar as they develop a person’s ability to love.

I base this, of course, on my Christian beliefs. Jesus commanded his disciples to love: love their neighbors as themselves; love their enemies and persecutors; love one another as he loves them.

But other cultures have placed different virtues at the top of the pile. For most of the ancient Greeks, it seems Justice was the primary virtue, and they would have had no idea of this Christian kind of Love. For others, such as many Romans, Law or Obedience might have claimed primacy. For still others, such as Nietzsche and his followers in Existentialism, pure Will would have guided their moral thinking.

Now, I’m in no way shaken in my belief that Love is the form of all the other virtues. But I’m reminded that it’s not something I can take for granted that others believe. It’s something I need to support and develop, rather than just assume.

‘Cause we all know what happens when we assume things.

My most meticulous fans/stalkers will have noticed that I’ve (finally) updated my Reading List page. I’m in the middle of After Virtue, by Alasdair MacIntyre. And fairly early on, Prof. MacIntyre makes the stunning claim that he doesn’t think human rights are real.

Here’s what he actually says:

[T]he truth is plain: there are no such rights, [i.e., human rights, natural rights, rights of man,] and belief in them is one with belief in witches and in unicorns.

The best reason for asserting so bluntly that there are no such rights is indeed of precisely the same type as the best reason which we possess for asserting that there are no witches and the best reason which we possess for asserting that there are no unicorns: every attempt to give good reasons for believing that there are such rights has failed. (p. 69, emphasis in the original.)

He then claims that modern attempts to explain or demonstrate or justify “rights” essentially contradicts itself.

What’s a right?

It’s difficult to argue with Prof. MacIntyre here because, while he gives a decent history of the term “human rights,” he doesn’t give much in the way of a definition of it. He focuses on explaining the universality of “rights.” Nor does he give much of an argument against them; he merely states that other attempts have failed.

Now, he might have gone into greater depth elsewhere, maybe even elsewhere in this book – I’m only about halfway through. But if I had made such a bold statement, I would have devoted a page or three to fleshing out my argument.

I think that the idea of “rights” is so important to our society these days that it’s worth thinking about a bit. I used to be of Prof. MacIntyre’s mind on the subject, that “rights” are a fiction, a myth. But I’ve read and thought and experienced a great deal since then, and I’m now firmly of the opinion that “rights” are indeed a real moral category, even if the way we think or talk about them leaves much to be desired.

So, here is my own definition of “rights”: a right is the flip-side of a duty. To claim a right is to claim that something belongs to me; that if I do not have it, then it is owed to me; and that it is owed to me by society in general and by any member of society who happens to be there at a given time.

In other words, if I have a right, then you have a duty toward me.

What Prof. MacIntyre gets right about rights

Now, Prof. MacIntyre notes a number of negative effects on society that arise from the focus on rights that has grown since the Enlightenment. For example, a focus on rights tends to isolate individuals, and presumes an adversarial relationship between individuals. It encourages selfish and self-centered thinking. It neglects the bonds and relationships I have with other people.

But all that’s needed is to say, “Hey, let’s not focus so much on rights!” Perhaps, “Let’s keep rights in perspective,” or, “We need to rediscover the dignity and respect we owe one another, rather than competing against each other.”

Granted, that’s an uphill battle. Our culture has discarded almost any kind of universal moral claim except “human rights.” But that doesn’t mean that those other claims don’t exist, any more than “rights” didn’t exist before the terminology was developed. Rather, it means that we have to learn (or re-learn) how to think and talk about them.

Tim Burton appears to have lost his imagination.

He’s come a long way since the joy of “Beetlejuice” and the genius of “Edward Scissorhands.” Even his adaptation of “Batman” brought an originality to the superhero movie that had been sorely lacking.

But at least since “Sleepy Hollow” his films have followed a steady trend away from character and plot and toward a desperate attempt to recreate the curlicue atmosphere of the classic “The Nightmare Before Christmas”. He hasn’t bothered coming up with interesting stories, relying instead on twisting other people’s tales to suit his vertiginous vision. He’s put Johnny Depp in all sorts of white makeup (none of which matches the beauty of Edward) and he’s papier-mached or CGI-ed trees imitating the Mandelbrot set or the Golden Ratio (depending on his mood). And he’s sacrificed some truly beautiful stories to these visual allusions to his own better work.

“Alice in Wonderland” is no exception. Naturally, he had to start by making Alice older – nineteen – in order to add a touch of sex appeal and to develop a loose and unconvincing coming-of-age story in an attempt to add depth. (As if a story about a girl falling down a mile-deep rabbit hole needed to go any deeper!) He then gives Depp some erratic antics, and his muse Helena Bonham Carter (does anyone else cast her anymore?) her standard sneer-pout-sneer-pout, and his special effects department a blank check to put as many curlicues as they can into the set dressing.

To their credit, Depp as the Mad Hatter and Mia Wasikowska as Alice turn in solid performances, almost covering over the unwarranted shifts in character and the gaping plot holes. Anne Hathaway, on the other hand, was unable to transcend the absurd role of the White Queen with humanity or believability. Or maybe it was just frustration with Burton’s demand that she keep her hands constantly in the air.

Ultimately, the film fails on the level of imagination. (And yes, this is where I make the virtue connection.) Imagination requires a freedom of mind, as well as a solid grounding in reality – neither of which Burton seems able to muster any more. The closest to reality he comes is the idea that international trade is a way to get rich. But his grasp of courtship, of the tension between social expectation and personal expression, and of the nature of authority all fail to consider the human person anything other than a plot-point to be manipulated into a special-effects sequence.

Ultimately, he has no notion of the difference between good and evil. The Red Queen is arbitrary and unpleasant. The White Queen is arbitrary and (so we’re told) pleasant. But the White Queen also brews a witch’s potion without moral qualm – though she’s made some vague vow against taking life; and she shows no virtue or reason she should merit Alice’s loyalty any more than the Red Queen. Well, except that she is albino and her body is not distended by CGI.

Mr. Burton would have done much better had he taken the time to meditate on Lewis Carroll’s works, rather than mutilating them.

I’m reading Servais Pinckaers’ The Sources of Christian Ethics, and, well, it’s full of rich material. Very thought provoking.

Something that struck me last night was the following:

The action of the Holy Spirit goes still further. Not limited to forming within us personal capacities for action, or virtues, it also engenders dispositions for receiving the spiritual inspirations and impulses needed for producing perfect works.

Obviously, he’s in the middle of relating natural morality, and the cardinal virtues that go with it, to the supernatural morality that comes with Christian grace. But almost as an aside, a throwaway, he gives a definition of virtue that I haven’t seen before:

personal capacities for action, or virtues

Now, as soon as I read it, I thought, of course! It just seems so obvious that a virtue is a person’s ability to do something well. And the only thing I would add, in order to make it a complete definition, is that a virtue properly is about living a human life well.

Now, the reason I’m so excited about this is that I’ve been struggling to articulate virtue in a positive or intriguing manner, and all the definitions that spoke of “habits” and “dispositions” and “forming character” and so on just fed into the idea that virtue is somehow dreary.

But looking at virtue as an ability, a capacity for action – that’s like Napoleon Dynamite’s bo-staff skilz. It’s like Luke Skywalker’s Jedi powers. It is, to use a word from my youth, AWESOME!

That said, I’m now off to my secret lair to defend the world against the forces of evil. Excelsior! (which is olde-tyme speak for “up, up, and away!”)

A tip of the questor’s cap to Just Jen, who pointed me to this article from the Wall Street Journal. Here’s a snippet:

Today’s readers tend to appreciate Austen despite her didacticism rather than because of it. She can be positively priggish, and that is an embarrassment. … The question arises, then, of how to reconcile Austen’s moralism with modern sensibility. To address this problem, it would be useful if we could find someone with this modern sensibility who actually reads Austen for her moral instruction (in addition to the literary pleasure she provides). How convenient that we have someone who fits that description available to us: me.

I, too, have found Jane Austen to be both guide and inspiration in my attempts to live a more virtuous life. The article envisions Miss Austen’s moral world as a set of concentric spheres: morals at the core, surrounded by sentiment, and covered by manners. This image has some usefulness, but I would note that she sheds at least as much light through the lens of the cardinal and theological virtues.

I would love to write a longer article on Miss Austen myself at some point – hopefully in January! – but I have some research to do before I can responsibly attempt such a feat. Till then, I hope you’ll be satisfied with the insights of this article.

Happy Christmas, all! And bright blessings on your new year!