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Ambition and the Virtue that Cannot be Named

Aristotle

Over the past few weeks, I’ve taken another long break from most of my online distractions, including news articles and streaming movies. The timing has been particularly good, because I’m working toward an ambitious project deadline at work. Outside of work, I’ve spent more time than usual fixing sprinklers, cleaning the garage, and playing games with my family. With less anxiety and greater mental focus, my voluntary “fasting” from online entertainment has again been a very good thing.

One of the insights I’ve gained this time around is the importance of having some sort of passion or ambition to fill the void left by the things I’ve taken out of my life. A lack of ambition is often what leads to overindulgence in diversions in the first place. However, ambition can also get out of hand. An all-encompassing sort of ambition leads to neglecting personal health, family relationships, and other important aspects of our lives.

Once again, our discussion of character leads back to Aristotle. In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle says that we typically use the word “ambition” (philotimia, or the love of honor) to refer to someone who has excessive ambition. And we usually call someone “unambitious” if they suffer from a deficiency in their desire for honor or excellence.

Aristotle observes that unlike other virtues such as courage, wisdom, or self-mastery, the golden mean with respect to seeking honor does not have a name. But he insists that this virtue has to exist, since it’s possible to seek honor both too much and too little. The person who possesses the golden mean seeks honor in the right way, from the right source, and in the right amount.

From a religious perspective, we might view the “honors of men” as an unworthy pursuit, especially since they typically distract us from the love of God and the love of our fellow beings. To justify any competitive desire for excellence and honor, we could see it as a way to glorify God and inspire others. The 1924 Olympic gold medalist (and Christian missionary) Eric Liddell insisted: “God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”

I personally haven’t figured this all out. I know that ambition can lead people to compromise their integrity and interfere with their devotion to God. But I also believe that a noble form of ambition is essential in fortifying good people against the allure of self-destructive behavior.

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Removing Online Distractions Provides Space for Change

Do you want to know the secret to keeping New Year’s resolutions? Remove your online distractions. Anyone can do it in four simple steps. Let me show you how.

Step one is to reflect honestly on the current state of your life. This exercise will inspire the urgency you need to make important changes. What kind of person do you really want to be? What do you wish you were doing that you’re not doing now? Have you given up on cherished hopes and dreams? If you had only a year left to live, what would you spend your time doing?

Put your phone on airplane mode, grab a pencil and take some notes on each of these questions.

Step two is to make room for meaningful change by removing distractions. What are you immediately drawn to when you’re bored, tired or stressed out?

Social media, online shopping, binge-watching your favorite shows on Netflix or Hulu, playing video games, watching sports or devouring the latest political commentary — these are all mind-altering drugs that keep you pacified and distracted from achieving your dreams. They distort reality by giving you a shot of dopamine and a false sense of accomplishment.

Earlier this month, I went cold turkey on two of my biggest distractions: online news and televised sporting events. Several of my friends and family members have recently taken a 10-day break, or “fast,” from social media.

The key to removing these modern distractions is to make it more difficult to find them. Use built-in features of your favorite web browser to block news, shopping or video streaming websites. Temporarily disable or pause your Netflix account. Uninstall or disable apps on your phone. Turn off notifications and cancel subscriptions. Whatever method you decide to use, don’t rely entirely on your willpower to resist the lure of temptation. Use your device settings as a digital support system.

Step three is to commit yourself to a grand project that aligns with your personal calling in life.

Removing mind-numbing distractions creates a vacuum that needs to be filled by more worthwhile things. Write a book. Put your time and talents to work in a community organization. Make a plan for paying off your student loans within the next five years. Improve your health with a personal fitness program. Prepare yourself for a new vocation. Become fluent in another language.

Now, you might think you don’t have a personal calling. Maybe you don’t see any unique gifts or opportunities in your life that could serve as the basis for a glorious venture. If this is true, then take a step back and use your imagination. Whether you enjoy playing video games, binging on Netflix, shopping online or watching sports, you know how to imagine yourself as somebody else. So put your well-developed imagination to work on your own life. Reimagine your future self as a transformed, purpose-driven being: more courageous, more caring, more disciplined and more aware of your hidden talents.

In the words of Henry David Thoreau, “However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names.” If you’re facing a recent track record of failure, you may need to change direction a bit. But don’t ever give up on yourself. Make room for divine guidance, put your rationality to work and commit yourself to an ambitious calling.

Step four is to take small steps toward accomplishing your goals. Glorious triumphs are always achieved incrementally. You need a grand vision or project to motivate your small steps. But the key to success is to learn from your mistakes and celebrate progress, no matter how small. Small wins give you momentum, creating a snowball effect toward greatness.

A couple of years ago, as part of my desire to write and publish, I decided to start a blog. To improve my writing, I committed myself to just one blog post per month. At the end of the year, I could look back and celebrate 12 published posts.

While each post was just a small step, it gave me something to build on during the next month, something to learn from, something to refine.

Don’t get overwhelmed or discouraged by the ambitious nature of your project. Maintain the lofty vision of who you want to be and what you want to accomplish. But embrace progress in a way that scorns the all-or-nothing mindset.

In summary, here are the four steps: Take time to reflect on what’s missing in your life, remove your biggest distractions, commit yourself to a grand project, and celebrate small, imperfect steps toward your ultimate goals.

After a few distraction-free days or weeks, if you want to plug yourself back into the internet, you’ll be much more capable of balance. But you might just be too busy for some of your old diversions.

* This article was previously published as a guest opinion in the Deseret News on December 29, 2018.

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Treasures of the Heart

My family and I have been working on a course of study in the New Testament since the beginning of the year. So far, our reading in the Gospels keeps bringing us back to one of Jesus’ central teachings in the Sermon on the Mount: the importance of the desires of our hearts. In Matthew 6, Jesus warns against storing up treasures on earth instead of treasures in heaven. Otherwise, we end up trying to serve two masters, God and wealth.

One way to view these teachings is to focus on securing blessings in the afterlife by doing the right things for the right reasons. This approach can bear some good fruit, especially if it means serving others more wholeheartedly, becoming less selfish, and living with greater hope and courage. But if storing up treasures in heaven means refusing to live in the present moment and failing to find joy in life’s simple pleasures, we’re probably missing Jesus’ point.

I’ve personally benefited from trying to understand the treasures of my own heart, which I see as my true desires and my deepest passions. What I’ve found is that my heart is remarkably fickle. As I watch my favorite sports team on TV, I’m pretty sure my greatest desire is to see them win the game. At other times, I believe I want financial success more than anything else. While in the midst of an uncomfortable social situation, I just want to escape. And when my alarm rings early in the morning, my only desire is to secure a little more sleep.

Neuroscientists tell us that we can’t really think about more than one thing at the same time. While we can switch our focus between tasks at astonishing speed, human multitasking is for the most part a myth. Our brain’s prefrontal cortex, which exercises executive control, can focus on only one thought at a time.

I think the same principle applies to the treasures of the heart. It makes sense that we can desire only one thing at the same time. If this is true, what can it teach us about the effects of modern technology on character development?

The first thing to come to mind is the power of distraction in the 21st century. Whenever I’m experiencing something unpleasant, I can pull out my smartphone and immediately turn my heart to any number of shallow desires. I can read the latest sports commentaries, interesting op-ed columns, and scintillating social media posts. Of course none of these sources align very well with what I claim to be my greatest desires, my heart’s treasure. But as I continue to spend my precious time with them, they might as well be my greatest desires.

According to Jesus’ parable of the sower, the word of God can be “choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life,” keeping the fruit from maturing to perfection. In the same way, the things that matter most can be choked by a constant stream of online diversions.

My own experience persuades me that social media fasts, television fasts, and online news fasts are essential in getting us back in touch with our true desires that may have been smothered and stunted by a lack of nourishment.

But shunning distraction is not enough. Treasuring up what we most value means consistently doing hard things. Without putting thoughtful, strenuous effort into what we desire, we inevitably slip back into old habits, turning to sources of immediate gratification.

Sometimes I’m foolish enough to think I can get what I want out of life without clear goals and rigorous planning. But modern life has far too many distractions that need to be explicitly sacrificed to secure the treasures of the heart.