Contradictory virtues: The problem of honesty and humility

It has been months since I've written any words in this blog.  This post alone has been several months in the making.  Ironically, I'm finishing this post at a point when I have the least time available to write extra-curricularly.  I, and my thesis committee, have committed to beginning to completing the writing of my thesis in just over 6 weeks, definitely my greatest challenge yet.

The subject of this post has been grinding my gears for some time now and I felt I should take some time to finally enunciate it in writing.

As many readers of this blog may know, I've committed myself absolutely to attempting to live a good life.  I've explored the implications of this before and will not reiterate them here.  My concern with this post is the problem of living virtuously in the Aristotelian sense of virtue.

Specifically, I'm concerned with the virtues of honesty and humility.  For a significant chunk of my life, I've committed myself to these principles.  As of late, however, I've realized that these two virtues in particular stand in contradiction to each other when one attempts to exercise them practically.

Simply put, to act absolutely honestly is to almost inevitably come across arrogant and excessively prideful and to be absolutely humble often necessitates disingenuous and ultimately dishonest behaviour.

As I stated in my first Facebook note which became my first blog post ever, I've often had to deny my own qualities in order to not violate the sensitivities of others.  It's only now upon much reflection that I've realized how dishonest this adherence has made my behaviour.  The more I give and do, the less honest I've found myself about the degree to which I engage in both.  To maintain humility and avoid risking violating the sensitivities of those who give and do less by their own standards, I've become more and more disengenous.  And I hate it because it's so dishonest but yet I find it necessary to maintain a sufficient degree of humility.  I'm sure even writing a blog post such as this can appear, to some, as a form of arrogance or at least of excessive presumptuousness.

What I've found is that the flip side is even worse.  Rather than be honest about myself and risk coming off arrogant, the alternative is to try to be absolutely humble.  But attempting to exercise absolute humility often amounts to my avoiding saying or even implying anything about who I am or about what I do.  In fact, to some, I potentially violate the virtue of humility by simply suggesting that I'm having this problem in the first place~

It's a lose; lose situation.

Here's a practical example.  I've found trying to enact both the virtues of honesty and humility especially problematic when consoling those with severe depression.  For the longest time I thought that approaching those with such depression in a purposefully positive manner would support those individuals in feeling better.  But it doesn't work like that in real life.  More often, that approach has made those individuals feel more depressed and insecure about their current situation.  They wonder why they can't be as positive or feel as good as I'm portraying and it sends them spiraling further.  So I've had to take to what I would honestly consider lying to support them in feeling better.  Absolutely bjorked, but depression is bjorked.  I really feel for those who struggle with it on a daily basis.  Unfortunately, there's not much any of us can do other than give these people support and time when they feel and communicate that they're ready for it.

From what I can tell, there is no "solution" to the practical contradiction of enacting both honesty and humility.  But they're still awesome virtues individually.  However, I think we need to be mindful of their pursuit's practical consequences for other people and how these consequences potentially threaten these virtues' nature as virtues.

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So essentially your options are arrogant prick or lying sack of ****.  You're going to end up being one if you try to absolutely avoid the essence of the other.  Maybe this is why Aristotle called for moderation in all things.

I'll close with some of the ever inspiring words of Paulo Freire on the importance of humility to dialogue.

"On the other hand, dialogue cannot exist without humility. The naming of the world, through which people constantly re-create that world, cannot be an act of arrogance. Dialogue, as the encounter of those addressed to the common task of learning and acting, is broken if the parties (or one of them) lack humility. How can I dialogue if I always project ignorance onto others and never perceive my own? How can I dialogue if I regard myself as a case apart from others---mere "its" in whom I cannot recognize other "I"s? How can I dialogue if I consider myself a member of the in-group of "pure" men, the owners of truth and knowledge, for whom all non-members are "these people" or "the great unwashed"? How can I dialogue if I start from the premise that naming the world is the task of an elite and that the presence of the people in history is a sign of deterioration, thus to be avoided? How can I dialogue if I am closed to---and even offended by---the contribution of others? How can I dialogue if I am afraid of being displaced, the mere possibility causing me torment and weakness? Self-sufficiency is incompatible with dialogue. Men and women who lack humility (or have lost it) cannot come to the people, cannot be their partners in naming the world. Someone who cannot acknowledge himself to be as mortal as everyone else still has a long way to go before he can reach the point of encounter. At the point of encounter there are neither utter ignoramuses nor perfect sages: there are only people who are attempting, together, to learn more than they now know." 

- Pedagogy of the Oppressed

On accountability: The importance of honesty

It's a kind of cosmic irony that one of the greatest systemic problems facing humanity today is our incapacity to take accountability for our own actions.  Many of us go great lengths to salvage and protect our pride, often to self- and community-destructive ends.  Even more ironic is the availability of the solution, the degree of ease in simply enacting accountability; to be honest.

This dishonesty contributes to a range of social problems and inequalities ranging from war to poverty.  It has enormous ramifications for conflict resolution, everywhere from intimate relationship, to international, violence. 

As a co-facilitator at Changing Ways, I've witnessed how a lack of accountability can destroy relationships.  As a student of history, I've witnessed how dishonesty has tarnished, and even lead to the conquering of, nations.

Accountability affects every context of our lives, and yet it's barely discussed in common conversation.  In fact, discussions of accountability are most often prompted by some sort of accusation of dishonesty; rarely is it discussed as a virtue, ideal, or something intrinsically worth enacting.

So just what is accountability?

Well, Wikipedia currently provides several context specific definitions supplying little assistance in this instance.  But the webpage demonstrates that definitions of concepts can have as many nuances as there are contexts in which these concepts can be identified.

I've been confronted with defining accountability several times, especially at Changing Ways where men were "coerced" into writing accountability statements: to take accountability for the behavior that landed them at the institution.  As such, I've encountered a plethora of definitions from which to draw my own.

In this instance, I'm referring to accountability in its primary essence, its basic values: honesty, integrity (consistency), and reason.  I developed my definition logically, as it consists of honesty, integrity, and reason, because if just one of those values is absent, one cannot be genuinely accountable.  

Without a complete commitment to honesty, dishonest behavior could be justified by reason and enacted with integrity.  I.e. left to reason and integrity, one could justify disingenuity.  I've encountered many situations where people rationalize disingenuous actions in which one behaves as though they know less than they actually do.  To spare you the list of reasons as to why such justifications can fail, I'll leave you with this: how would you feel if you were the one who suffered as a result of that disingenuous behavior?  And what's the point if you'd find out eventually, regardless?

Along with honesty, without a complete commitment to integrity, one can fail to be genuinely accountable.  I placed "consistency" in parentheses to highlight this element of integrity, but I didn't just write 'consistency' because that term alone fails to capture the range of areas within which one must be consistent to maintain their integrity.  Integrity is more than just consistent action; it's an consistent orientation to life: consistent values, beliefs, reasoning, honesty, self-criticism, etc.  Without integrity, one could pick and choose rationally and honestly where and when to be consistent instrumentally.  Integrity's not as vital as honesty and reason, but it's an essential element of persistent, life-long, genuine accountability.

Along with honesty and integrity, without a complete commitment to reason, one cannot achieve the ideal accountability so described.  I know it may sound abstract or obtuse to include reason in my definition and criteria, but bear with me.  Imagine an irrational individual claiming to be accountable based on their honesty and integrity.  In my own mind I'd picture a domestic abuser who consistently and honestly denies their culpability in an instance of domestic abuse.  By the exclusive standards of honesty and integrity, this man or woman could be described as accountable.  However, if that same situation is subjected to rational criticism and reason, that individual may be found to be otherwise.  For example, in the case suggested, the indicted might have done something they don't believe, or understand, to have affected something else.  Reason is the acknowledgement and understanding of relationships like cause and effect, consequences for behaviors, and emotional literacy.  Even if one maintains the greatest honesty and integrity, if they do not acknowledge or even deny rational deductive and inductive logic, the feelings of other individuals, or the full consequences of their actions, they cannot be genuinely accountable.

In sum, my perspective of accountability consists of honesty, integrity, and reason.

That said, why do we struggle to take accountability?

No one likes to be wrong.  In fact, as I've cited previously, in Eckhart Tolle's words, "to be wrong is to die."  Following suite, everyone likes to be right.  No one ever has trouble taking accountability for good, right, actions, unless they're prepared to confront their own pride.

As such, to take accountability is to confront our own hedonist consciousnesses: to confront our desires for pleasure and abhorrence of pain.  It's hard: very hard.  Almost, and arguably actually currently, impossible for some, depending on the context.  As it was at Changing Ways in the men's groups I helped facilitate and participated with, accountability is a process: a gradual process. And the pivotal vehicle of this process is honesty.

I'm awed and inspired by the solution.  The simple, yet revolutionary, power of honesty.  Honesty, in the sense that I use it, is simply an absolute openness, to yourself, everyone, and everything.

Meanwhile, dishonesty is dissonance.  It's a closing or alienation of ideas and people. Dishonesty is a form of conservatism; it's an act of conserving one's pride, feelings, beliefs, understandings, or principles.

As such, honesty is absolutely liberal, it's a kind of liberation: an exercise of personal liberty.  To be honest is to liberate oneself from pride, doctrines, and prejudices.

Many of us are slaves to our selves: to our own pride and hedonist values.  We exercise dishonesty, and fear accountability, because we fear the wrath of our masters: the realization and acknowledgment of who we truly are, and what we've actually done. 

Allow me to consolidate this argument with an example.  Why do we desire "privacy"?

Why?

What's the reasoning?  What's at the root of that desire?

It's because we have something worth hiding.  Whether it be worth hiding because of the consequences of its discovery, or to preserve its worth: this is the nature of any secret.  Simply put, we desire privacy because we feel we can't or shouldn't be honest; there's forces and structures preventing us from being ourselves, honestly and accountably.  We seek out and go great lengths to maintain privacy, because our society has become such that to be completely and absolutely honest about ourselves: our wants, needs, beliefs, and values, often has negative consequences.

My perspective?  Be honest anyway.  Be accountable, even if it hurts. 
Because most often the consequences of dishonesty and running from the truth far outweigh the costs of being honest and accountable.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world."  You want honesty?  Accountability?  Transparency? Be honest, accountable, and transparent.

EDIT: I ironically had to delete a link linked to the words "be accountable, even if it hurts."  That link connected to a post that I had to pull from this blog given my new status as a public servant.  That post may be reposted again, but given its controversy and probable incomprehensibility to most people, it will require reworking, or at least a lot more explanation on my part.  So in eating my own words, be accountable, even if it hurts, only when such accountability will allow you to continue to realize your self and your world.

The Deadliest Sin

(originally published June 20, 2011)
First off, this is just the skeleton of an essay I plan on writing in full later on after I'm out of school (if that ever happens).
Secondly, there will be no sourcing used to back up my arguments, in part because of the first point, and also because Facebook does not allow you to use footnotes.  And no, I did not write this in MLA or APA style even though these were possible alternatives, because as an amateur historian it is my sworn duty to write exclusively in University of Chicago Style. (Interrupt my pros will you?) (With your incessant brackets)
Thirdly, as you can probably tell already, this essay will be informal.
Fourthly, and finally, this is still a serious issue; one that continues to humble me to this day.
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To whom this may concern,
I often find myself feeling guilty whenever I unintentionally intimidate others.  I try my hardest to keep to myself, and outside this profile and my presence in class, very few people actually know anything about me - which is largely my doing.  You see, I purposefully minimize my value, even sometimes sacrificing and denying my capabilities and talents.

"Why would anyone do such a thing?" You might ask - especially in this vocation and credential focused world that's becoming more vocation- and credential-centric every day.  Well, I have many reasons, but the most influential are those relating to my opinion of pride.

Many philosophers, psychologists, etc. argued and continue to argue that the ego is an integral part of a healthy self-actualizing individual.  But you don't need to consult them to justify pride - just look out the nearest window.  There's a near consensus about the moral acceptability of pride - a consensus reflected by how most people cannot even second guess their vanity.  Pride is practically normal.

"But Adam - if it's practically normal?  Why write this note on Facebook?"  Because although it's "normal," excessive pride will only and always cause harm.  Excessive pride, for the purpose of this essay, will mean over-valuing the self.

Many contemporaries and many more predecessors have made and continue to make different versions of the argument I'm about to present. But one must acknowledge, that despite the best intentions of these people, pride continues to cause immense amounts of needless suffering.

"So what's so bad about excessive pride?"  Well, ask any of your local British/Western literature buffs and they'll be quick to denounce hubris.  A major theme in Western literature, especially tragedy, hubris usually takes the form of a tragic flaw in the protagonist or anti-hero.   Hubris as tragic flaw was featured in the biblical genesis story superlatively conveyed in John Milton's epic: Paradise Lost.

Milton's work, like the Bible before it, portrayed the archangel Lucifer's fall and imprisonment in hell and his campaign to take revenge on God by corrupting his most prized children: humanity. The triggers that caused Lucifer's fall were related to excessive pride: he over-valued his self and was jealous of the value of God.  Together, these functions of pride lead him to challenge said omnipotent.  This story, the foundation story of all three of the major monotheistic religions, should have justifiably condemned pride forever into non-existence, or at least that appears to have been the desire of its creators, especially since they suggested that pride was the cause of every other sin.

Now before you get all: "Oh krap, he pulled the Bible/Pentateuch/Qur’an on us" let me assure you, I am not religious.  In fact, I find the condemnation of hubris to be one of the few things that the monotheistic religions, in their infancy, actually got right.

"But if excessive pride has been frowned upon since the first ‘recollections’ of the Bible/Pentateuch/Qur’an, then why is it 'normal' today?"  To be honest, I don't know exactly. I know there are many factors, including influences like our innate biopsychology, certain human drives like the will to power Nietzsche identified, and the development of classical liberalism, secularism, and materialism.  Excessive pride has received varying levels of acceptance and rejection throughout human history, but I digress, this is a Facebook note for another time.

What's important is the harm over-valuing the self creates for the self and for others.  There are many reasons to choose humility.  There are the basic reasons such as how excessive pride leads to over-extending yourself.  For example, you overextend yourself when you believe that you can do something and then try to do it when you objectively cannot do it.  And there are also the more complex reasons, such as how excessive pride can prevent an individual from adequately appreciating the experiences, talents, and actions of their peers.

My personal most influential reasons for detesting pride are its emotional effects: jealousy and shame.  Jealousy and shame are completely dependent on pride; without pride, neither jealousy or shame exist.  For what is jealousy but the over- or under-appreciation of the self relative to others?  And shame, the realization of one’s true value.

I often find myself minimizing my value within the perspectives of others in order to prevent them from feeling jealousy or shame.  I have often questioned the morality of such behavior, but as it stands, ignorance is bliss – in most cases.

Of course, this stumbles upon the ethics of suffering and the question of whether or not there is justifiable suffering.  Can it be/when is it/ justified to knowingly subject people to jealousy and shame?  I'm reminded of what one of my favorite professors stated over and over, “A smart person knows when someone is wrong; a wise one knows when to tell them.” (I usually add “and how” to the latter statement)

All that to say: excessive pride can and will only cause harm to the self and to others.  However, I’m not suggesting we should all under-value ourselves instead.  For under-valuing the self can be just as detrimental to the self and to others as hubris.

What this author favours is what the ancient Greeks favoured – nosce te ipsum – Know thyself – that is, value the self for exactly what it’s worth by doing what’s necessary to further realize the self’s true value.
[…]
There's a potential contradiction in my argument.  One must do what’s necessary to realize the value of his/her self at all times (which includes helping others realize the values of their selves), but I’m minimizing my ability in the perspective of others which prevents them from feeling shame or jealousy: feelings which would eventually cause them to know their selves more accurately.  What I’m saying is we have to be tactful, pragmatic, and potentially, gradualist about it.
[…]
Those trying to be good, virtuous, etc. are subject to a paradox.  They pursue the good by all available means, all the while, they must minimize their actions as valuing good actions and taking them has the potential to tempt them to hubris.