Nothing characterizes our public life today so much, perhaps, as a lack of seriousness. Yuval Levin, the political theorist, has noted that many of our leaders are more interested in play-acting and performing for cameras than in the sober work of governing. It is a common experience for us to see those in leadership and to wonder “where are the grown-ups?” There was never a time of perfect seriousness in public life, but there have been better and worse periods.
What is it to be a serious person, to be one who merits being taken seriously? Aristotle takes seriousness (spoudaios) to be a fundamental quality for any kind of excellence. He notes in the Nicomachean Ethics that we distinguish a plain old musician and serious musician. What is the difference? A serious musician has put in the time and effort to play really beautifully and well. So it goes with the moral life. A person will only become excellent, only worthy of being taken seriously, if he first takes the moral life seriously.
A truism, perhaps. But Zhu Xi, the great Chinese philosopher of the Middle Ages, thought this same idea was worth emphasizing. He felt that he lived in an unserious time too, characterized by this pressing need to go out and act—to rule and manage the world—without first having ruled and managed the soul. If those in the leadership class have not taken the time to be serious all kinds of damage results: hubris, demagoguery, cheap conflict, and violence. Ideas and notions of rule detached from actual, personal goodness always remain dangerously incomplete.
“Today,” Zhu Xi writes, “if we don't know where to anchor our body and mind, and yet talk about ruling and managing the world, or try to create a separate set of skills to discuss and analyze, aren't we making a mistake? It is necessary to first devote the heart and mind to knowing one's nature, understanding its roots, and after that exerting the meritorious deed of maintaining and cultivating.” Zhu Xi speaks here in the vein of his ancient master, Mengzi. Learning or progress in one’s career has be grounded in knowing one’s nature.
Sounds flowery, perhaps, but Zhu Xi is talking about serious moral reflection. Knowing one’s heart and nature means intentional acting and reflecting. Why did I behave this way and not that? Was I moved by benevolence or by greed? This is not ‘analysis paralysis’ but honest daily examination. It is an awareness necessary for growth, which can only come about from “constantly practicing good acts.” What does goodness ask of me here when I order my coffee, when I talk to mother, or when I go to work? One must keep asking and acting, and then one becomes a serious person.
Writing to a young student, Zhu Xi advises that all progress will begin from turning to what is near at hand. Too many seek to influence the world before changing themselves. Too many seek leadership without having made themselves worthy of the trust. Don’t seek to be great. Seek what is close, and do that. Then you may become great.
He is intent, especially in speaking to young people, on saying that attention should be paid, not to far off dreams, but to cultivating goodness right here and now. The present is where excellence is built. “When considering what is closest and easiest to practice, you should start right now. When considering what is most urgent and pressing, you should act without hesitation. Even if you only make a day's effort, you will see a day's progress…If you don't start now and instead wait for distant opportunities to seek teachers and friends, you will miss the precious opportunity to make real progress.”
Certain aspects of our culture and our technological environment make it very difficult to be serious. The constant cheap and superficial drama of the news and the distractions of our devices—these all work to make quiet attentiveness to the heart and to our nature difficult. Reflection needs space. Discernment needs time. Not the rushing, pressing time of the news cycle, but the composed, still time of contemplation.
In an unserious age a serious person is of incredible value. Moral change comes not so much from the right strategies as from the right people. Human goodness has a transforming brilliance. When we see it for what it is, it can be seriously attractive.
Where, today, are the sources of serious moral formation for our future leaders? Do our universities do it, do our churches, or our professions themselves? It’s a question serious people need to ask.
Thank you for the very important dive into the essence of morality. I was reading another article, and someone lamented that those who most needed to read the advice were least likely to do so. Your comment about embodying and fully living our principles is a powerful means of communication. I remember in my Toastmasters training that 90% of what we communicate is body language rather than the words we speak or write. That is very powerful indeed.