Virtue Quest

This is not a natural love

I don’t like to talk much about sex, partly because I’m ashamed of my own weaknesses in this area, and partly because any restriction on sexual “expression” or activity is seen as “backward” (and I’m vain enough to want to be seen as progressive), and partly because sex is just plain everywhere already and I don’t particularly want to add to the mess.

But what with the foolish hooplah over Pope Benedict’s out-of-context statement on condoms, and in light of some personal questions from a few different friends, and considering a fascinating conversation over at Just Thomism, I thought I’d toss my tuppence into the ring.

Human nature

The human person is made for love.

That sentence has many meanings, because “love” has many meanings. Love could mean, broadly, (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…)

Just keep walking, just keep walking...

I get overwhelmed pretty easily. Sometimes, just looking at the pile of dishes in my sink exhausts me. Other times I’m more ambitious: I figure I can conquer the world but I worry if I’ll make it outside the little pond of our solar system. But the fact is, whenever I face a new task – or a new start on an ongoing task – there’s a part of me that asks, “Can I really do that?”

For example, I’ve mentioned that I’m working on a book about my grandmother’s life. Until the last couple weeks, I’ve been stuck on the magnitude of the project. I talked to one of my uncles about my problems, and he suggested a couple ways to break the project down into smaller pieces, each of which is do-able in an hour or two.

Well, duh! says I. I know how to do that. I just don’t want to.

Why not? (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?

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!

Full article here. Interesting both from the point of view of temperance and of faith itself.

A choice quotation:

Most species of birds and animals in which the male serves some useful function other than sperm donation are inherently monogamous. Humans, like other nest builders, are monogamous by nature, but imperfectly so. We can be trained out of it, though even in polygamous and promiscuous cultures people show their true colors when they fall blindly and crazily in love.

In other words, gentlemen, prove that you are more than a bicycle to a fish.

I also like that it refers to the unfaithful partner as “infidel.”

Likely to repent?

The self-indulgent man, as was said, is not apt to repent…. (VII.8)

Ah! How true! But then, is there any hope for me?

Temperance, self-indulgence, and incontinence

Aristotle is contrasting the self-indulgent person with the incontinent person. Here’s the difference: while both are intemperate, that is, both pursue pleasure or avoid pain to excess, the incontinent person is either overwhelmed by desire or is just plain thoughtless; the self-indulgent person, on the other hand, has made a deliberate decision to pursue pleasure or avoid vice in some excessive way.

The incontinent person just grabs that extra chocolate on impulse; the self-indulgent person decides that a diet of chocolate is really what’s best for him.

Now, Aristotle says that … well, I’ll let him speak for himself:

Now, since the incontinent man is apt to pursue, not on conviction, bodily pleasures that are excessive and contrary to the right rule, while the self-indulgent man is convinced because he is the sort of man to pursue them, it is on the contrary the former that is easily persuaded to change his mind, while the latter is not. For virtue and vice respectively preserve and destroy the first principle, and in actions the final cause is the first principle.

Okay, maybe he’s not entirely clear. Here’s how I read it. The incontinent person knows he has done something wrong, but the self-indulgent person is convinced of a lie: that he is acting rightly. So, it is easier for the incontinent person to admit wrongdoing and to take steps to reform his behavior (such as keeping the chocolate under lock and key) than it is for the self-indulgent person who sees no need for reform.

This is because the whole goal of virtue is to bring us in touch with reality, while vice is wrong and harmful exactly because it distorts or denies reality. (That’s roughly what Aristotle is talking about with the whole “first principle” stuff.)

Repent! Repent!

I think one of the reasons this line caught my attention was because I so strongly associate the word “repent” with religious preaching. But Aristotle is using it in its basic meaning: to feel sorrow (or penitence) for what one has done. And this sorrow is the foundation of a “change of mind”, which could also be translated by another word with religious overtones: conversion.

And yet, this is exactly what Aristotle suggests: if you’ve done something wrong, be sorry and change your behavior. Don’t make excuses. Don’t beat yourself up, either. Just keep in touch with reality, and try to correct your mistakes.

Because, while this means feeling sorry every so often, it also leads to a fuller and deeper happiness: the happiness of being fully human, fully yourself.

If only I could remember that every time I pass the candy dish….

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!

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, by Raphael

• 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.