Character Education as the Neglected Gift of Past Generations

For the past several years, I’ve designed online digital literacy courses for community college students. One of the first concepts my students learn is the difference between hardware and software technology. Hardware is essentially the technology you can touch and feel, like computer monitors, keyboards, printers, wireless routers, and microchips. Software, on the other hand, is the computer code or electronic instructions that tell the hardware what to do. While you can see the results of these instructions on a screen or on a printed page, you can’t see or touch the software itself. But the unseen software breathes functional life into the computer hardware.

In a similar way, our material world of houses, vehicles, furniture, and physical bodies would be lifeless without the intangible world of human character, values, and relationships.

In a 1960 address to college educators, my great-grandfather P.A. Christensen conveyed his gratitude for the animating presence of light and truth in human society. The classic works of literature and the enduring truth inspired by nature were for him “unearned” gifts that found their expression in the lives of ordinary people. These gifts impact the quality of our lives within the immaterial “realm of human growth and transcendence,” leading to character development and social harmony.

One of Professor Christensen’s purposes was to challenge his students’ unthinking embrace of what he termed the “gospel of work,” the philosophy that we get nothing in life that we haven’t earned, nothing that we haven’t paid for. From his perspective, such a materialistic philosophy leaves little room for appreciating the gifts that are graciously given by our fellow human travelers.

The intangible gifts of wisdom, generosity, and other human virtues constitute what I call character education. The core curriculum for this education is the overflowing beauty of nature, the abundant wealth of literature, and the supernal gifts of family and friendship.

As I reflect on my great-grandfather’s nearly 60-year-old message, my thoughts turn to the vast inequality in today’s society; for so many people, the gifts I take for granted are neither free nor readily available. Domestic violence, impoverished neighborhoods, and failing schools often substitute cruelty for compassion and overindulgence for self-mastery. This awareness periodically disturbs my sense of satisfaction as I read Aristotle in the comfort of my happy home.

Of course, I’m digressing and missing my grandfather’s point here. The more aware and grateful I am for my unearned gifts, the more likely I am to share those gifts with the less experienced or the less fortunate, those who don’t enjoy unfettered access to light and truth. I’m also more likely to drink them in deeply myself, living the timeless principles of truth in the present.

As Jesus said to his disciples, “freely ye have received, freely give.” This response is a natural flow of goods from the original source, through me, to others. I consequently have no time to feel guilty about the privileges of my life. Understanding that “where much is given, much is required,” I am more determined to share.

As a parent and educator, I approach my teaching responsibilities with a degree of humility. My eagerness to enlighten others feels presumptuous. But we give and take with an open mind and a willingness to be corrected. We engage in the conversation because of our conviction that character development and moral education are needed today—perhaps more than ever.

Character education is not a panacea that will solve all our societal problems. But any serious effort to address our problems must include it. We need principles of truth that draw upon a shared moral vocabulary. We need to be inspired by real-world examples of courage and wisdom. We need to recognize moral failure and learn how to recover from it.

In promoting this conversation, we can and should turn to the latest social scientific research. But we also need to engage with the voices of the past—our unearned inheritance from faithful, rational minds. These poets and teachers, scientists and philosophers, didn’t always get things right. They had their own blind spots and occasions of moral failure. We can refuse, for this reason, to consider their professed insights. Disillusioned with the past, we can rely exclusively on our own experience and intuition to change the future. But the foundation of such a response is both arrogance and ingratitude.

Reconciling the voices of the past with the realities of the present undoubtedly calls for a venture in faith, a precarious journey into the spiritual realm of human growth and transcendence. As I continue my own journey, I’m grateful for faithful companions—past and present—who inspire me to be better than I am.

Magnanimity and the Call to Greatness

In an earlier post, I contrasted Aristotelian pride with Confucian humility as the crown of the virtues. I also clarified that Aristotle does not advocate unjustified pride or arrogance any more than Confucius does. In describing Aristotle’s views in Nicomachean Ethics, I used Martin Ostwald’s English translation of μεγαλοψυχία (pronounced megalopsychia). While this word is typically translated into English as “magnanimity,” Ostwald prefers “high-mindedness” because the modern connotations of magnanimity don’t capture the “pride and confident self-respect” implied by the original Greek. In today’s post, I will reconsider magnanimity in the classical sense that communicates the “greatness of soul” inferred by Aristotle.

AristotleAristotle explains that a magnanimous man believes he deserves great things such as honor and respect because he really does deserve them. He is great both in the sense that he has obtained a fullness of virtue and in the sense that he possesses wealth, power, and influence. His abundant resources allow him to do much more good for others than they could do for him. While he willingly accepts legitimate honors bestowed by noble men, he has no interest in arrogantly displaying his superiority among ordinary people. In fact, he is self-effacing and unassuming among them. It is only in the presence of distinguished, influential men that he speaks openly of his accomplishments. Nonetheless, he is always more concerned with promoting truth and virtue than he is with impressing other people.

Aristotle’s magnanimous man spends his life doing extraordinary things, even risking his life when courage calls. One reason he’s capable of achieving greatness is that he does not squander his time or energy on trivial things. He never holds grudges, spreads gossip, or pays attention to small annoyances. Since he focuses his attention on the rare actions that are worthy of great honor, the magnanimous man is not in a hurry to fill his life with lesser accomplishments. He is never overly anxious or distracted by petty concerns. He is slow to act and deliberate in his choice of words.

Of course Aristotle’s ideal of magnanimity clashes a bit with our modern sensibilities. He sounds like someone who’s out of touch with reality, like a guy who has never done the dishes or mowed his front lawn. But before we reject such an ideal altogether, let’s consider how we might adapt at least some aspects of magnanimity today.

Aristotle emphasizes that magnanimity (or high-mindedness) is the golden mean between vanity and small-mindedness. While the vain man desires greater praise and recognition than he deserves, the small-minded man turns away from honors that he genuinely merits. Even worse, however, is the tendency of the small-minded man to shun wealth and power and to avoid performing noble deeds because he doesn’t consider himself worthy.

Surprisingly, Aristotle suggests that small-mindedness is a worse vice than vanity and that it’s much more common. When I examine my own character flaws, I’m usually more aware of my vanity. I care too much about what other people think of me. But as I reflect more honestly, I recognize that one of my biggest concerns is that I don’t want to come across as vain and prideful. If I’m honest with myself, this tendency to appear less than what I am (in order to impress others with my modesty), is often displayed as false humility or small-mindedness.

It seems evident that small-mindedness can prevent us from responding to the call to greatness. Each one of us possesses unique gifts that we’re capable of developing in the service of others. These gifts constitute our personal call to greatness or to magnanimity. We ought to strive for nothing more and nothing less. If I pretend that I am called to someone else’s greatness, to someone else’s honor, I’m vain. But if I for any reason refuse to accept my personal call to greatness (and the honors associated with this call), I’m suffering from a debilitating form of small-mindedness.

One of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s favorite themes is that each individual must discover and embrace his or her personal calling in life. Each person “has faculties silently inviting him thither to endless exertion…. He inclines to do something which is easy to him, and good when it is done, but which no other man can do. He has no rival. For the more truly he consults his own powers, the more difference will his work exhibit from the work of any other. His ambition is exactly proportioned to his powers.…Every man has this call of the power to do some[thing] unique, and no man has any other call….”

When we find the courage to respond to our personal call to greatness, we’re capable of achieving magnanimity. Because we’re no longer competing with someone else’s greatness or for someone else’s honor, we’re free to pursue our own path with less anxiety, less vanity, and well-deserved praise.

Commitment: Freedom and Responsibility

It recently occurred to my wife and I that we will have four children attending college this coming fall. Setting aside our concerns over how they will afford tuition, books, and housing, our greatest hope is that they will each make wise choices regarding their future.

A free, democratic society offers citizens great latitude in choosing educational and career paths. My children are extremely fortunate to have been raised in a stable, middle-class family within strong communities. They’ve attended exceptional secondary schools in Massachusetts, California, and Utah. Each of these schools has given them opportunities to develop their talents and to pursue a wide ranges of interests inside and outside the classroom.

Upon entering college, students discover the freedom and responsibility to become whoever they want to become. This freedom can be both exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time.  Should they choose a stable, well-defined profession such as teaching, medicine, business, or the law? Or should they simply pursue a broad liberal arts education with more definite career choices to follow? How will the prospects of marriage and family responsibilities impact educational and career paths?

I firmly believe that every person possesses unique gifts that can only be developed through strenuous effort and refined through adversity. William James, the father of modern psychology, speaks of the challenge each of us face in realizing our potential: “Every one knows on any given day that there are energies slumbering in him which the incitements of that day do not call forth, but which he might display if these were greater. Most of us feel as if we lived habitually with a sort of cloud weighing on us, below our highest notch of clearness in discernment, sureness in reasoning, or firmness in deciding. Compared with what we ought to be, we are only half-awake. Our fires are damped, our drafts are checked. We are making use of only a small part of our possible mental and physical resources.”

So what is the cure for slumbering energies and indecisiveness? The answer lies in our ability to make firm commitments. Regardless of the educational path they choose, successful college students know that realizing their potential requires both short- and long-term commitments. The freedom to choose one path implies the need to abandon other paths. After exploring their options, mature students make a decision and then commit themselves to the long and arduous path toward self-mastery. In addition to completing degree programs and mastering skills, vital commitments include securing the happiness of a spouse and fulfilling parental responsibilities.

Ralph Waldo Emerson compares the power of personal commitment to the well-established order of nature: “And so I think that the last lesson of life, the choral song which rises from all elements and all angels, is a voluntary obedience, a necessitated freedom. Man is made of the same atoms as the world is; he shares the same impressions, predispositions, and destiny. When his mind is illuminated, when his heart is kind, he throws himself joyfully into the sublime order, and does, with knowledge, what the stones do by structure.”

Ideally, students discover an educational and career path that coincides with a clear life purpose, a sense of their personal calling. Emerson suggests that our true vocation is one that maximizes our freedom and empowers us to do what only we are capable of doing. He describes how such a calling invites us “to endless exertion,” where “all obstruction is taken away” as we “sweep serenely over a deepening channel into an infinite sea.”

How can we know that we’ve discovered our personal calling? Emerson claims that each of us has “one direction in which all space is open” to us. Some people possess a clear sense of this direction from a very young age. Others need more time to consider their options. And some are forced to reconsider after becoming frustrated with unfulfilling vocations.

Winding career paths don’t necessarily mean people are indecisive or aimless. It may simply mean that they have been willing to take advantage of new opportunities to learn and grow, to pursue their personal calling wherever it may lead. As long as their lives are grounded in firm commitments, they will discover unexpected success along the way. I have a friend who has struggled to begin a side business with a full-time job and heavy family responsibilities. To accomplish his goal, he made and fulfilled a commitment to wake up every morning at 4:30 a.m. 

Purposeful commitment means that we embrace both freedom and  responsibility. Rather than being driven by the need for constant entertainment, we find fulfillment through service to others. Rather than being controlled by negative emotion, we find pleasure in disciplined habits. And rather than escaping responsibility through mind-altering drugs or digital dependence, we use our freedom to make the world a better place to live and learn.

Undivided Attention: Means to the End of Virtue

Like most parents, I’m concerned about my children’s overabundance of screen time. Tablets, smartphones, and laptops provide instant access to video games, social media, and streaming video, including an unlimited supply of favorite television episodes. Yet sometimes I’m almost as preoccupied as my children. Since my smartphone notifies me about text messages, emails, and important news flashes, I can be summoned at almost any time.

In our age of multitasking and short attention spans, it’s critical to understand that most virtues are built on sustained mental and physical effort. Without attending perceptively to the needs of others, we won’t cultivate a sense of justice in our communities. Without an active awareness of our personal duties and responsibilities, we won’t respond to the call for courage. And without focusing on the most salient aspects of a complex situation, we won’t develop practical wisdom.

As mesmerizing as it can be to immerse ourselves in a 24-hour news cycle, a never-ending feed of social media posts, or a well-crafted movie plot, such activities cannot produce firmness of character. While temporary diversions are appropriate in helping us achieve life balance, most of us embrace distraction as a way of life. We plug ourselves into the Internet.

Years ago, I came across an essay written by French philosopher and mystic Simone Weil (1909-1943). The title of the essay is “Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God.” Weil claims here that “the real object and almost the sole interest” of school work is “the development of the faculty of attention.” No matter what subject we devote ourselves to, the result can be personal transformation and joy: “Even if our efforts of attention seem for years to be producing no result, one day a light that is in exact proportion to them will flood the soul.”

Interestingly, Weil observes that one of the most transforming effects of school studies comes from turning our attention to mistakes. She suggests that we “take great pains to examine squarely and to contemplate attentively and slowly each school task in which we have failed . . . without seeking any excuse or overlooking any mistake . . . trying to get down to the origin of each fault.” Such actions will generate not only humility, but progress.

So how do we achieve this sanctified state of undivided attention? Weil argues that it is not to be “confused with a kind of muscular effort.” That type of strained approach is both useless and tiring. To produce the kind of transforming results advocated by Weil, we need to embrace the joy of sustained learning. We place our minds in an ardent state of expectation, waiting for truth as an unearned gift.

Weil explains why a state of undivided attention is so difficult to achieve: “Something in our soul has a far more violent repugnance for true attention than the flesh has for bodily fatigue.” She continues: “That is why every time we really concentrate our attention, we destroy the evil in ourselves.” In other words, to replace vice with virtue, we must actively focus our attention on observing, learning, and improving.

In describing Sherlock Holmes’s extraordinary ability to solve crimes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle paraphrases Thomas Carlyle’s definition of genius as “an infinite capacity for taking pains.” Sherlock’s gift lies in his perceptiveness and sustained concentration on the problem at hand. His colleagues failed to appreciate that his “smallest actions were all directed towards some definite and practical end.”

What prevents us from becoming the Sherlock Holmes of our own life’s problems? More than anything else, it is our lack of attention, the fragmented state of our minds. While we cannot completely escape our frenetic and distracted lives, we can carve out moments for undivided attention. We can wake up early in the morning, leave our smartphones off, and study for an uninterrupted hour. We can take a midday break for a 20-minute walk, disconnected from the Internet and focused on one of our most vexing challenges. We can sit down with family members or friends and fully understand how they’re feeling. These are the moments when we find the joy of learning and the pleasure of communion.

We all need to take time for relaxation and entertainment. But we have a greater need for character development and sustained attention to real life.

Benevolence: Catalyst for Change

In one of my recent podcasts, I pointed out that virtues such as love and benevolence are not always the best foundation for moral behavior in society. One reason is that these virtues tend to be grounded in clan-based loyalties, where our compassion extends only to family, friends, and sometimes fellow citizens. Good will and compassion typically do not guide our behavior toward political enemies and others who may oppose our way of life. But human history has proven time and again that one’s enemies are frequently vulnerable and deserving of sympathy. In such contexts, just laws are needed to illuminate our blind spots. True justice can provide a code of ethical obligations to protect otherwise defenseless people from their would-be oppressors.

This is not to say, however, that benevolence and compassion are less potent or less needed virtues. In fact, benevolence may be the most important virtue for propelling personal and societal change.

As the disposition to do good to others, benevolence is the foundation for generosity and kindness. It cultivates compassion and responds wisely to the genuine needs of others. Benevolence taps into the light of conscience that can only be dimmed by responding to the darker side of human nature.

In Confucianism,  the Chinese character ren is often translated as benevolence. It’s a general virtue that governs human relationships through the principle of love. In ancient Chinese texts, a more accurate translation of ren might be “humanity,” which implies a more comprehensive virtue that encompasses benevolence, wisdom, and other characteristics needed for human flourishing. As our sense of humanity, benevolence can impact the way we treat both friends and foes.

Confucius

Confucius affirms that benevolence or a sense of humanity is one of the core values that allows for true self cultivation. And he reminds us of the tremendous power that can be wielded by benevolence. As the recipient of kindness, my psyche is naturally indebted to my benefactor and inclined to repay their kindness by acting benevolently toward others. The laws of karma dictate that kindness begets kindness. Compassion leads to more compassion.

Ralph Waldo Emerson refers to this principle as the law of compensation: “Love and you shall be loved. All love is mathematically just, as much as the two sides of an algebraic equation.” While kindness will not always be reciprocated immediately, the cosmic laws of nature ensure that we will not be cheated in the long run. Sooner or later, benevolence returns to us through the intervention of “a third silent party to all our bargains.”

The preeminence of benevolence is expressed profoundly in the Christian doctrine that God is love. As conveyed in 1 John 4:8, “whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” The most reliable indicator of personal redemption and conversion is the expression of love and kindness in our daily actions.

While benevolence appears to occupy a less prominent place in Aristotle’s philosophy, we see its expression in other virtues, such as generosity, friendship, and magnanimity. As the essence of human virtue, benevolence promotes healthy personal relationships, compassion and fairness in society, and peace between sovereign nations.

As the virtue that most impacts human relationships, benevolence is an indispensable catalyst for change. In Strength to Love, Martin Luther King states, “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” Dr. King’s call for change through nonviolent resistance is grounded in the principle of love, which has the power to destroy the forces of evil and establish justice.

When we are consciously aware of the laws of karma or compensation in our personal lives, our benevolence can be expressed as a form of enlightened self-interest. The desire to reap benevolence for ourselves provides ample motivation to treat others benevolently. However, such an approach usually requires patience as well. While kindness and compassion can be reciprocated immediately, change often takes time. This is one of the reasons Confucius counsels his disciples to maintain high expectations of themselves and low expectations of others.

The call to love our enemies provides a particular challenge to the self-interest model. As a full expression of virtue, benevolence does not expect anything in return. We treat others with kindness and respect whether they deserve it or not. And while such a selfless expression of the higher law might not be reciprocated by our enemies, it will always transform us.

Five Tips for Achieving Greater Happiness

Here are five tips for achieving greater happiness in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. For more insights on happiness and character development, check out my e-book, The Character Cure: Four Cornerstone Virtues for a More Fulfilling Life.

Tip number one: Focus your time and effort more on building your character than securing your happiness. The idea of striving for greater happiness can be paradoxical. Sometimes the more you strive for happiness, the more elusive it becomes. When you try too hard to achieve a perennial state of happiness, you can actually end up more vexed and disappointed than you would otherwise be. You probably know overly anxious people who are constantly asking themselves why they’re not happy. It’s important to study and reflect on the meaning of happiness, but there’s no question that we can overdo it. Find your purpose, build your character, do noble things, and most of the time happiness will find you.

This reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Henry David Thoreau. Near the end of Walden, he declares, “I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” Happiness is about confidently and steadily living the life we’ve imagined and then finding an unexpected success.

Tip number two: Understand that adversity can refine your character and make you more capable of experiencing happiness in the future. During difficult times, remind yourself that your character is built to manage those very difficulties. Generally speaking, happiness is less about what happens to you and more about responding to your own life’s challenges in a way that builds your character and confidence.

A quote from an unknown author sheds some light on this point: “Adversity introduces a man to himself.” If we allow it, adversity can give us two invaluable gifts. First, it reveals our character strengths and weaknesses, showing where to direct our self-improvement efforts. Second, adversity can be a refining power, giving us confidence and stability in successfully facing future challenges.

Tip number three: Find joy in the simple, quiet, everyday moments with family and friends. You should by all means dream big and stay motivated for achieving great things in your life. But if you ever feel like family responsibilities are preventing you from fulfilling your true purpose, you probably need to sort out your priorities. There’s no higher purpose than reaching out to family and friends, supporting them in ways that only you can. More than anything else, genuine happiness is about finding joy in these ordinary, unremarkable moments.

Tip number four: Strenuously avoid the two unmistakable adversaries of happiness, blame and self-pity, especially during moments of intense disappointment. We know that happiness depends to some extent on other people. But one of the surest paths to unhappiness is to blame others for your lack of good fortune and to feel sorry for yourself. On avoiding self-pity, I admire Thoreau’s encouragement: “However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names…. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse.”

ConfuciusOn finding happiness when those we love and depend on fail to meet our expectations, I appreciate the wisdom of Confucius. His key to “banishing discontent” is “to demand much from oneself and little from others.” Be generous and forgiving of other people’s shortcomings. And while striving for lofty personal goals in terms of your own character development, be charitable to yourself too. So much of life is about moving forward with hope, avoiding negativity in spite of frequent failure. When life knocks you down, pick yourself right back up and keep going. Refuse to allow yourself to wallow in self-pity and to blame others for your lack of good fortune.

Tip number five: When the happiness odds seem particularly stacked against you, make the conscious decision to be happy anyway. Make the best of whatever circumstances you find yourself in. Remind yourself that even winning the lottery would not endow you with happiness for more than a short period of time. You have great power in choosing happiness now, in any situation, if you’re willing to cultivate the characteristics that are conducive to happiness.

In summary, use these five tips to discover greater happiness: First, focus on building your character and happiness will follow naturally. Second, allow adversity to refine your character by revealing your flaws and providing invaluable experience. Third, uncover joy in the common, everyday moments of life. Fourth, find greater happiness by avoiding blame and self-pity. And fifth, practice making the conscious decision to be happy, under any circumstances.

Humility: Authentic Virtue or Personal Weakness?

I’ve spent the past few months researching and writing about practical wisdom, courage, self-mastery, and justice, which are described in classical ethics as the cardinal virtues. I released a podcast series on these four virtues and published an e-book entitled The Character Cure: Four Cornerstone Virtues for a More Fulfilling Life.

In my first Character Cure blog post, I’d like to begin exploring some of the other virtues required for human flourishing. Let’s start with humility.

ConfuciusIn teaching his disciples to avoid boasting, Confucius cites the example of a great warrior who had recently performed an act of valor. He was the last man to flee on horseback after his fellow soldiers had been trounced in battle. As he returned late to camp, he immediately deflected attention from his courageous acts with the excuse that his horse was slow.

The point of this anecdote is clear: modesty or humility is a distinguishing feature of noble men. Confucian humility is also a basic duty called for in the presence of your parents and the elderly. And humility is built into the Confucian definition of knowledge. While the wise are confident regarding what they do know, their quest for knowledge makes them keenly aware when they do not know something.

As a religious virtue, humility includes a profound sense of your dependence upon God. It means acknowledging the relatively meager extent of human knowledge and power. People of faith humbly turn to God for the strength and inspiration they currently lack.

Those who claim Jesus Christ as their exemplar have a particular duty to cultivate humility. In their quest to become like their Master, Christians cannot ignore the height of His self-sacrifice, submissiveness, and ultimate humiliation on the cross. Jesus’ triumph over sin and death was made possible by His self-emptying sacrifice.

John Calvin preached the doctrine of predestination largely as an antidote to pride. In Calvinist theology, good works do not factor into God’s unconditional appointment of the elect unto glory. The idea that you are elected through God’s mysterious and unmerited grace induces true humility, an essential requirement for living in God’s presence.

In cultivating the virtue of humility, we cannot ignore the legitimate critique offered by Nietzsche and other modern philosophers. When promoted by those in power, humility can be a tool to subjugate others. Along with virtues such as kindness and compassion, humility is for Nietzsche one of the central features of a “slave morality.”

AristotleAs a contrast to both Confucianism and traditional Christianity, Aristotle’s man of complete virtue wholeheartedly claims well-deserved honor and praise. His magnanimous nature is always truthful. According to Aristotle, high-mindedness rather than humility is the crown of the virtues.

On the surface, the contrast between Aristotelian pride and Christian/Confucian humility is unmistakable. However, if we look deeper, we see a significant convergence between these moral philosophies.

Starting with Jesus Christ as the embodiment of divine virtue, we can recognize that the humility of Christ emanated from his moral perfection.

In a similar way, both Confucius and Aristotle presume the rare achievement of complete human virtue as they discuss humility and high-mindedness. With regard to the vast majority of people, Aristotle speaks against unjustified arrogance just as much as Confucius.

So what is the proper place of humility within flawed human beings?

Perhaps Aristotle and Confucius are right. The question of whether a situation calls for humility or pride might only make sense when it comes to certain narrow areas of our lives where we have risen above mediocrity. If I have mastered a certain art or achieved a specific virtue, I can then decide whether to follow the Confucian and Christian path of humility or the Greek path of magnanimity and high-mindedness. Where I have not achieved excellence, the only question is how hard I am willing to work to achieve it.

Alexander Dumas’s morally flawed Count of Monte Cristo observes, “I maintain my pride before men, but abandon it before God, who drew me out of nothingness to make me what I am.” Such a sentiment has a persuasive appeal in today’s ultra-competitive society. Even though I fully recognize ways in which I am inferior to other people, why should I defer to them or diminish myself in their presence? Measuring my personal weaknesses against other people’s strengths is usually unhelpful.

So keeping your head held high might make sense as a default posture. But if you have definitively achieved some aspect of virtue, a call for humility can offer a helpful warning against arrogance and self-worship.

In the end, we are still faced with a final dilemma. How can we cultivate true humility while rejecting its self-serving forms? The appearance of humility is immeasurably easier to achieve than the authentic virtue that rises naturally from a foundation of moral excellence.

C.S. Lewis may have the best answer: “If you meet a really humble man…probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him….He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.”