Temperance and Courage: Secular Morality and The Habit of Excellence
“How can you be moral without God?”
This question begs many responses, but it can best be answered with another question: “How does your God make you moral?”
Long before a Jewish Carpenter was born in Bethlehem, Socrates philosophized about morality. Unfortunately, the ill-fated Socrates never wrote down any of his own teachings. Instead, his students wrote Socrates into their work, and had their words flow from Socrates’ mouth. So, it’s difficult to pinpoint his exact beliefs, but we know that the cornerstone of Socrates’ philosophy was that he believed the best way for people to live was to focus on virtue, rather than material wealth.
When Socrates’ student, Plato, wrote his Socratic dialogue Republic, he wrote about four specific virtues: Wisdom, Courage, Temperance, and Justice. Now, certainly, Plato was not the first to point out the value of these characteristics, and stripped of all their metaphysical baggage, Plato’s virtues are simply incarnations of human behavior that result in pleasant or favorable outcomes. For example, the practice of wisdom offers perspective, rationality, and prudence. The practice of justice offers honesty, objectivity, and equity.
Plato’s student, Aristotle, focused on the other two virtues: temperance and courage, and expanded their meaning past brave warriors and asceticism. Aristotle’s ethical philosophy revolves around the idea that one’s ultimate goal in life should be to “live well.” Modern translations of Aristotle’s “living well” most resemble our word for “happiness” with a little twist. Living well for Aristotle doesn’t mean indulging in any and all actions that’d release a cocktail of happy hormones. Living well is about making choices that are actually good for us and for others.
So, what is “good?”
One definition of “good” is that it’s the opposite of “evil,” but such a definition is antiquated at its nadir and elementary at its zenith. A comprehensive definition of “good” must account for the multidimensional and epistemic nature of understanding what “good” is, what “good” isn’t, and the grey of “good” in between. “Good” begets “good” and can only be found within the cognizance of it’s own delivery. For this reason, “good” can be defined as a process of understanding. “Good” is empathy. “Good” is compassion. “Good” is selflessness. Take yourself and your agenda out of your choices, and you will likely find what is “good.”
Aristotle said that in order to be good, we have to make being good a habit. We have to practice. He updated Socrates’ famous quote, “the unexamined life is not worth living,” to “the unplanned life is not worth living.” He argued that virtue isn’t found in a person; it’s found in their actions, and exercising temperance and courage will help people make choices that align with what is actually good for them and others.
Temperance, most often defined as “moderation,” can be easily applied to our natural needs: whether it’s in the consumption of unhealthy foods and drinks or sticking to a budget when purchasing clothing and shelter (and perhaps also being mindful of the potential waste you’re contributing to in those purchases). When it comes to the “goods of the soul,” temperance can be practiced in our consumption of trashy media, the time we spend on our electronic devices, and the frequency in which we interrupt other people or monopolize conversations. We can choose moderation when it comes to controversial discourse or our base desire to have the last word or win arguments. Exercising temperance everyday teaches us how to regulate impulsive grabs for immediate satisfaction, so that when the big choices are upon us — like whether to steal, or lie, or yell, or commit an act of violence — we aren’t tempted.
When it comes to courage, most people would visualize someone in uniform. A solider. A public servant. And yes, those people do have a tremendous amount of courage, but that isn’t the “courage” Aristotle philosophized about. Practicing courage to Aristotle is making choices that cause temporary pain or discomfort, but doing it anyway, because we know the choice is good for us or for others.
Practicing the virtue of courage in your basic needs could be getting regular exercise to sustain or improve your health. Courage can look like spring cleaning — you’d rather be doing anything else, but the value of your shelter relies on it. It’s courageous to read something so difficult it gives you a headache and makes you want to cry, because it may help you gain a better understanding of something important. Out in the world, where we interact with all kinds of people, courage can be practiced in many different ways. Attending your local government meetings or town halls, volunteering to pick up trash — or just picking up trash whenever you see it — despite the discomfort and inconvenience of not knowing where the nearest trashcan is.
It takes courage to speak out against racism, anti-Semitism, sexism, bigotry, xenophobia — especially if the offender is a loved one or the offense is unintentional. Listening takes courage too. Search for wisdom within the words of people who are different than you. Even if you don’t agree, their perspective can provide a valuable resource in addressing your differences. Courage teaches us how to be comfortable in our discomfort, so when important moments arise, and we’re forced to make a decision, we’ll be prepared to make the choice that’s good, not easy. Courage, at its core, is arduous or unpleasant work that’s done simply because it’s good.
Most people derive their “goodness,” or morals, from religious texts. The four virtues Plato spoke of were appropriated by Christians a few hundred years after Jesus’ death, turning them into The Cardinal Virtues.[1] The Bible and The Torah have the Ten Commandments, Numbers, and Leviticus. The Quran teaches several virtues that serve as a moral code. However, religion doesn’t own the concept of morality any more than religion owns the concept of marriage... or human behavior as a whole. Because that’s all morality is: human behavior. Even the dictionary says morality is “a person’s standards of behavior or beliefs concerning what is and is not acceptable for them to do.”[2]
Religious morality is initially and often continuously dictated, not chosen. Conveniently, many of the morals dictated by religion are morals most people would want to uphold anyway. Don’t kill. Don’t steal. Don’t cheat and don’t lie. Simple stuff. However, when you break down the simplicity of religious morality, a problem can arise. When it comes to scripture, people tend to ignore a little of this, emphasize a little of that, usually in ways that make their lives easier or make their living experience a little more comfortable. Ancestral morals are unavoidable, but there’s no reason they can’t be questioned. It takes courage to question the morals given to us. However they were raised, people who make good choices have questioned and practiced — or eliminated — virtues that allow them to “live well.” People who are active participants in forming their own morality find their morality strengthened by their investment in continuing to be virtuous. If you don’t invest the emotional labor required to build a strong moral code, your moral code is going to be far weaker, and you’ll be more easily tempted into making choices that will hurt you or hurt someone else.
It’s not what we say that defines us. It’s not our beliefs that define us. It’s what we do in the moment we are given a choice, in the moment where we are tasked with virtuous practice — wisdom, courage, temperance, justice — in that moment where we choose a path for ourselves. That’s what defines us. Sure, moral suggestion can be found in a book, a myth, a God, or a prophet, but morality isn’t belief. Morality is action. It doesn’t matter if you quote scripture about welcoming the foreigner if you take part in erecting a wall to keep them out. It doesn’t matter if you say you love your neighbor as you love yourself if you seek to deny them the rights you enjoy. It certainly doesn’t matter if you praise God’s gifts if you then contribute to polluting and destroying the great gift of Earth.
Like anything, morality comes easier the more you practice. We’re all works in progress. We’ll all make choices that hurt us or hurt other people. But if we commit to continuous practice, if we agree that we’re all capable of making good choices, then it doesn’t matter where your first moral code comes from. All that matters is how often you practice “living well.”
So how will you practice today? How will you “live well?” Aristotle says we don’t need a god to live well — we need a plan.
So plan. Practice. Make excellence a habit.
Notes
[1] Interestingly a lot of Christian teachings are appropriated from Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. St. Thomas Aquinas is most accredited with bringing about Aristolean theology.
[2] For a very detailed definition of “morality” see Stanford Encylopedia of Philosophy’s entry on morality.
