If you read or heard my Convocation speech, you know that this summer David Brooks, The Road to Character prompted much thinking on my part. The book is being very widely read – I know that many educators also had it on their summer reading lists – and I imagine a number of you have also read it. I’d be interested in your perspectives as well.
Brooks has concluded that we have experienced “a broad shift from a culture of humility to the culture of what you might call the Big Me, from a culture that encouraged people to think humbly of themselves to a culture that encouraged people to see themselves as the center of the universe.” In many ways, Brooks’ work hearkens back to the Puritan clergymen who castigated their congregations for their sins. Unlike the Puritans, he does stop short of blaming society’s ills on our depravity. However, he believes that we “are morally inarticulate. We’re not more selfish or venal than people in other times, but we’ve lost the understanding of how character is built.” He bemoans the “superficiality of modern culture, especially in the moral sphere.”(15)
Although he never comes right out and says so, Brooks clearly believes in original sin. Like the Calvinists, Brooks believe we are too innately sinful ever to achieve goodness. “We are flawed creatures,” says Brooks. “We have an innate tendency toward selfishness and overconfidence. . . . We know what is deep and important in life but we still pursue the things that are shallow and vain.”(262) Brooks believes that we need humbly to accept our flawed character and embrace the belief that “the inner struggle against one’s own weaknesses is the central drama of life.”(10) However, again echoing Calvinism, “The purpose of the struggle against sin and weakness is not to ‘win,’ because that is not possible; it is to get better at waging it.”(263) Through that waging, we build character. “You become more disciplined, considerate, and loving through a thousand small acts of self-control, sharing, service, and refined enjoyment.”(264) In another statement with powerful Christian overtones, he pronounces, “We are ultimately saved by grace.” Grace occurs when we surrender ourselves to some other force, whether that’s “love from friends and family, . . . the assistance of an unexpected stranger, or from God.” The point, according to him, is to “accept that you are accepted.” (265) Humility sits at the core of this process, for without humility we cannot accept and embrace our many deficits. Of all traits, it’s lack of humility that Brooks feels most undermines our ability to develop moral character.
Should we live a life of humility, wrestling with our weaknesses to build better – but never perfect – selves, he hopes we will grow into “mature” people, people who have “moved from fragmentation to centeredness, [have] achieved a state in which the restlessness is over, the confusion about the meaning and purpose of life is calm.” “The mature person has steady criteria to determine what is right,” he explains.(267)
The Road to Character is a jeremiad in the spirit of Jonathan Edwards, but less compelling. Most of the book is devoted to biographical sketches of people like Eisenhower, Dorothy Day, and Bayard Rustin who, to Brooks, demonstrate various character traits. I found these portraits unconvincing. Moreover, his portrayals engendered no sympathy, failing to make me want to emulate them. And there were even instances, such as George Marshall, whom I respected less not more after reading Brooks’ description.
Brooks does quite effectively describe the culture of “Big Me.” However, I’m not convinced that as individuals we’re actually less humble and less self-disciplined than previous generations. Those 17th and 18th century clergyman railed against the sins of pride, selfishness and greed because they worried about their prevalence in their societies. Nor do I necessarily agree that we’ve lost our understanding of how to develop character. As someone who works with young people, I think that in many ways they are more open-minded and generous than my generation was. They embrace diversity and many of them are deeply invested in service and in making the world a better place. For example, girls repeatedly point to working with the less-fortunate, especially children, as the most meaningful aspects of their Junior Journey experiences.
However, this attitude of acceptance stems in part from a moral relativism, a moral compass that sits only in our individual hearts and heads, not one that relies on a widely accepted moral code. Brooks references the work of Christian Smith, a Notre Dame professor who examines college students’ moral lives. Smith has found that today’s college students tend to have little understanding of morality. He quotes one student who said, “I mean, I guess what makes something right is how I feel about it. But different people feel different ways, so I couldn’t speak on behalf of anyone else as to what’s right and wrong.” (258) I certainly see some of that, but I also see girls who absolutely understand right from wrong, and who feel strongly about upholding a moral code, the most obvious example being the School’s Honor Code, about which students feel very strongly.
Few could disagree with Brooks’ assertion that social media has changed society. The average person certainly spends far more time honing a public image -- an inherently unhumble process -- than ever before. As Brooks says, “people turn into little brand managers.” (251) He also makes a somewhat compelling case for how a more meritocratic society has “encouraged self-aggrandizing tendencies,” as people have to sell themselves more actively than is the case in static societies. (251) Perhaps the most interesting evidence of our diminished moral focus comes from Google scans of books and publications for word frequency. These scans of written sources over the twentieth century show a decrease in words like “bravery” (down 66%), “gratitude” (down 49%), “humbleness” (down 52%) and “kindness” (down 56%). The frequency of “conscience,” “character,” and “virtue” all declined as well while individualistic words and phrases such as “self,” “personalized,” “I come first,” and “I can do it myself” increased.
Whether it’s our current culture or the North American colonies in the 1730s (the beginning of the Great Awakening), every society can improve and every individual can become a better person. I am not and never have been convinced that to start on the path to redemption we need to accept ourselves in all our baseness. One also does not have to experience some crisis to appreciate and embrace the value of self-improvement. It’s enough to be self-reflective, to work persistently on our weaknesses while drawing on our strengths. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. It takes commitment and effort, but it doesn’t have be an enormous, all-consuming internal battle. I may be a Pollyanna, but I don’t believe that “the inner struggle against one’s own weaknesses is the central drama of life.” I admit that I have been extremely blessed in my life, privileged in countless ways, but every life has its challenges, mine – and yours – included, and I don’t wish to view life predominantly as a struggle.
I also think that Brooks, perhaps justifiably, blames Positive Psychology at least in part for the “Big Me.” He is not a fan of happiness which he equates to hedonism and the pursuit of short term pleasures. “We don’t live for happiness, we live for holiness.” He says. “All human beings seek to lead lives not just of pleasure, but of purpose, righteousness, and virtue. . . . The best life is oriented around the increasing excellence of the soul and is nourished by moral joy, the quiet sense of gratitude and tranquility that comes as a byproduct of successful moral struggle.”(262) However, we know that true happiness, not momentary giddiness, but deep contentment and satisfaction with our lives comes from living thoughtfully, from finding a sense of purpose – a vocation, something he deems essential – being generous, grateful, courageous, and kind. Brooks would have us believe that being happy and being people of character are mutually exclusive, but I would argue the opposite. Good people are often – though certainly not always – truly happy people, people who do find joy from a life well lived.
Humility is not the answer, especially for girls and women, who have been trained to be self-effacing to the point of internalizing a low sense of self-worth. Nor do we just need “mature” people as Brooks suggests. He sells us short with that aspiration. We need people with wisdom. Wise people are more than mature. They’ve learned from experience, thought deeply about those lessons, and incorporated them into their world views. They act from a place of perspective, breadth, and groundedness.
As I said in my convocation speech, Brooks made me focus on the really important character traits. I keep coming back to integrity and kindness. Humility is not enough.
Wise, kind people of integrity – that’s what we need and what we should all strive, but not necessarily struggle, to become.
n.b. all quotations are from David Brooks, The Road to Character. New York: Random House, 2015