Pride Goeth Before a Fall: Humility too?

Humility: An Unlikely Biography of America’s Greatest Virtue. David Bobb. Nashville, TN: Nelson Books, 2013.

Humility is not exactly a stranger to political life. Perhaps it is more like a long lost friend that is being met with renewed interest, especially in recent months. David Bobb’s outstanding new book, Humility: An Unlikely Biography of America’s Greatest Virtue reminds us of the rich tradition of reflection on this virtue in Western civilization and its priority among several great figures in the American political experience.

The first portion of the book frames a problem for humility. So much of our current age, especially in our current political setting, praises those qualities that seem to be at odds with humility: strength, independence, self-reliance, autonomy, personal empowerment. One of the key challenges that Bobb identifies is to recognize the centrality of humility in realizing greatness. Moreover, humility does not undercut other qualities associated with greatness, especially among great leaders. Instead, Bobb contends that humility is precisely the crowning mark of that greatness. He makes the case for humility by drawing from a treasure trove of great political, philosophical and theological writers in the Western tradition that illuminate its priority and challenges from a variety of perspectives.

Bobb admirably covers the scope of the authors he artfully showcases. He begins by introducing us to a dilemma with pride that Benjamin Franklin struggled to shake. The achievement of excellence inevitably breeds pride. But even an enduring commitment to humility can excite pride. Bobb notes Franklin’s important words: “for, even if I could conceive that I had completely overcome it [pride], I should probably be proud of my humility” (9). But Bobb also notes that Franklin’s dilemma is also our dilemma as humans and as Americans. Consequently, he turns to the resources that can help us best understand the problem of pride, the priority of humility, and how the latter is critical for human and political greatness. Bobb explores the problem of pride from a variety of pre-modern perspectives and characters ranging from Homer on Thersites and Odysseus in the Illiad, to Plato on the character of Socrates and Aristotle on the Great-Souled Man. This is followed by New Testament intimations of the person of Christ, and medieval Christian appropriations of the later, as informed by key ancient Greek philosophical influences. Bobb navigates the problem of pride and the priority of humility by cultivating a conversation among these figures and characters.

In the midst of this conversation, Bobb elegantly frames the problem of pride from a standpoint that seems most to align with his presentation of St. Augustine. (But his characterization of the problem highlights why it is a problem for any tradition or perspective, especially in political terms.) He encapsulates the problem as follows:

“Pride is a misbegotten intimacy or love: instead of responding to and drawing closer to him, the first human beings retreated into the recesses of their hearts. In so doing they became themselves less like God created them to be. They    departed from their nature, which was perfect until they turned to God. Unhealthy pride pushes man away from God; it destroys his ability to cling to his Creator as he should, not in miserable self-debasement, but in worshipful humility” (14).

Bobb’s Augustinian appropriation of pride tends to characterize it as a corrosive, self-destructive malady that affects multiple faculties, with damaging implications for one’s relations to fellow humans and God. He also notes more than once that a central consequence of this condition is a distorted exercise of one’s mind, especially its proper estimation of oneself. Self-knowledge may be the first casualty of pride.

There are a couple recurring dimensions of Bobb’s curation of these authors‘ treatment of pride that animate his presentation and the priority of humility: how and why does it comprise self knowledge, and what to do about it (e.g. moderate it? correct it? eradicate it?)

One way to summarize his navigation of pride and humility is to frame them in contrast with an Aristotelian-like characterization of the problem. Suppose one should treat others and expect to be treated in accordance with who one is, including one’s talents, achievements and character qualities – whether due to fortune, merit, initiative, or effort. Accordingly, who I am and understand myself to be will shape my outlook towards others, including my attitude, bearing, desire for recognition and actions.

One negative meaning of pride is overestimating oneself and, specifically, one’s qualities and desert. Nearly every figure discussed by Bobb offers some kind of critique of this. There is considerable divergence across traditions about how to assess the status of persons. However, a key dividing line is whether that person ineradicably bears the image of God and owes that God a creaturely dependence. Consequently, who a person is and his or her qualities must minimally be understood as a reflection of God’s goodness and the gifts. Accordingly, one’s achievements and cultivation of those gifts are also a reflection of that same abiding goodness. Of course, one does not have to accept the former account of who we are in order to recognize a human propensity for overestimating oneself, not to mention the effects of that overestimation downstream. In short, the recognition of our creatureliness will clearly influence what our options are for addressing that pride, future assessments of it and ultimately what to do about it.

Bobb’s representation of pride in ancient Greek thought recognizes its excesses, and that there might be a place for proper pride. For example, Bobb reminds us of Homer’s depiction in the Illiad of Thersites as an overreaching detractor of Agammenon who is subsequently humbled by Odysseus’ kingly rebuke of him using a kingly scepter. Bobb aptly notes Homer’s contrast of Odysseus and Thersites. Homer has Odysseus say that “I assert there is no worse man than you are. Therefore, you shall not lift up your mouth to argue with princes, cast reproaches into their teeth, nor sustain the homegoing” (16). While Bobb does suggest that the condemnation of Thersites might be understood as negative portrait of humility – imposed humility – I do not know that this is the best example of humility in Greek thought. However, it does offer an arguably representative depiction of how, by early Greek lights, an admirable character like Odysseus with leadership talents might condescend with justification to an undeserving and overreaching critic. The aspiration of Thersites, whether overreaching from a position of lesser or equal excellences or lesser or equal prerogatives, might be criticized for misplaced pride. Odysseus could be seen to have proper pride.

Is there a place for proper pride? Perhaps it is a pleasure one finds in the appropriate exercise of one’s excellences, talents and deserved roles that have shaped one’s expectations, attitude and bearing towards others. All of the classical and post-classical authors that Bobb surveys agree that there is such a thing as excessive or misguided pride. But they disagree whether there is such a thing as proper pride. Bobb’s classical authors all acknowledge the personally and socially destructive ways that that an exaggerated impression of one’s ability, talents and deserts affect us. They wreck important characters, ranging from Achilles, to more than one Socratic interlocutor, to the vain and young oligarchs that Aristotle contrasts with his great-souled person. Bobb echoes Aristotle’s critique of such a person, who is more concerned with receiving honor than being honorable–even from the best arbiters of honor (25). On this point, Bobb’s Augustine offers a crucial account of a hierarchy of value that reorders the qualities of a prince (and citizen) such that humility, as opposed to political cleverness or effectiveness, is the most highly ranked (39).

Setting aside humility for a bit, Bobb’s Augustine accents one strand of the critique of pride that at least some of the ancient Greek thinkers would concede. Aristotle’s great-souled man would neither embody nor esteem political cleverness as the mark of good rule–whatever his proximity to power might be. Similarly, Augustine’s good ruler would not be affected by a desire for honor, such as “from the voices of exalted praise [nor the] reverent salutations of excessive humility ”(36). Moreover, Bobb also recognizes that Thomas Aquinas appropriates and reorders Aristotle’s notion of greatness of soul. Before discussing the place of humility or its relation to that greatness, it is important to see that Aquinas also affirms that classical critique of pride, such as having “a sense of proportion in our reckoning” and a sense of “honor that is properly motivated” (40). Bobb’s presentation of Aquinas does not neglect this thread of continuity with Aristotle. Aquinas says, “Greatness of soul is to be wholly given over to the pursuit of virtue, desirous of honor for the right reason and determined never to forsake virtue” (40-41).

But Bobb’s Augustine and Aquinas both offer a diagnosis of pride that underscores, among other things, a crucial error in self-assessment. In addition, the problem of pride isn’t just a failure to recognize how one might be prone to over-reaching aspirations, misguided desert claims or exaggerated judgments of one’s own talent. Rather, a central dimension of its wrongness, which the classical Greek authors don’t notice (even those most amenable to the hazards of pride), is that human greatness is not marked by self-sufficiency vis-à-vis fellow humans, citizens and God. Bobb’s appropriation of Augustine captures this well: “In Christian teaching, human beings are dependent on God. That is the heart of Jesus’ message about humility. We also are meant to be with others, to depend on others, and to care for others” (39). So, the recurring tendencies to overreach in the above ways actually stem from a proud disposition that fails to manifest this principle as a lived starting point. We are creatures intrinsically dependent on God and so built for communion with Him and our fellow humans. Our failure to have beliefs, desires and actions that reflect this starting point generates countless compounding mistakes in this sphere, such as the desire for honor that we do not deserve. And this also applies to the larger-than-life, multi-talented character of Aristotle’s great-souled man. The proper, lived principle of self-knowledge would automatically desire to return that honor to the God who creates and sustains Him.

But one possible difficulty for both the diagnosis of pride and manifestation of humility is how properly to recognize God-given talent, potential and excellences without either diminishing the quality of each or the source of each. Bobb’s Aquinas is attentive to this problem: “Humility is not self-abasement–eradicating the desire and pursuit of leadership, responsibility, great projects. In contrast, humility maintains ‘a sense of proportion in our reckoning’” (40). This suggests that humility is not blindness to or violence against such talents and works, but rather, it embraces them with a proper sense of proportion. Bobb appropriates Aquinas further on this point: “Humility keeps aspirations in line with one’s limits,” whereas “Pride propels towards greatness by reminding us of our possibilities” (40).

However, this still raises two related questions. What work does the proper proportion contribute in the non-prideful, full embracing of one’s talent as a God-given one? Is there a quality of the non-prideful person that enables him or her accurately to recognize the extent and limits of his or her talents? This quality, one presumes, would enable one to assess the proper proportion between one’s abilities and one’s assignments and pursuits.

These two questions seem relevant in a positive account of humility, especially for great leaders. Perhaps these questions might be set aside if humility is only a moderation of pride. But if humility is a positive quality that exhibits a proper self-understanding across the range of criteria suggested above, then more needs to be said in order to understand the humility of great leaders, especially how their humility contributes to it. Yet, there are some moments in Bobb’s analysis where humility is treated as primarily the absence of pride or even the moderation of it, instead of being a quality that stands on its own.

But what is distinctive about humility when it comes to self-assessment and assessing characteristic motivations? Consider a case of pride where the person exaggerates his ability, even though he recognizes that a particular ability is God-given. Nevertheless, he still inflates the caliber and scope of it. Perhaps such episodic pride could be counteracted by a more dominant tendency to suspend or ignore such assessments and their overreaching implications. But why should we think that when humility has been developed, its standard operation is to moderate or limit pride rather than to be a thoroughgoing alternative to it? Moreover, would an exemplar of humility have any pride to counteract? Would a truly humble person require some occasionally exaggerated self-assessment in order to propel himself towards a greatness that humility would later put the brakes on?

This ambiguity about humility is present in Bobb’s analysis but he does not resolve it. In fact, Bobb’s treatment of humility seems very much alive to this ambiguity, as a reflection of the notions of humility present in the authors treated. However, the implications of this ambiguity seems quite relevant in Bobb’s discussion of so many great leaders in the American political tradition. Bobb’s thesis is that the latter tradition provides a rich canvass of material for the case that the practice of humility among its leaders is crucial for their excellence as leaders, and for ours as a nation.

Bobb provides a very readable and engaging discussion of key authors from the American political tradition, such as Washington, Madison, Abigail Adams, Lincoln and Douglass. Bobb soundly navigates each of these authors, aptly situating them in their respective political, historical and cultural contexts with a view to his humility thesis. His exposition vividly weaves elements of biography, moral psychology, and political history with a political-theological analysis of his challenging thesis. Bobb also artfully captures just enough breadth and depth within each of these elements to enable both an accessible presentation to a general audience while also pursuing a thoughtful investigation of his thesis.

For the sake of time and focus, I shall limit my response to his treatments of Washington, Madison and Lincoln. The biographical and personal portraits of each of these distinguished figures is compelling, on point, and quite helpful in appreciating their respective embodiments of Bobb’s humility thesis. With George Washington, Bobb introduces us to the considerable talents of a great military and political figure while also observing the restraint and limits that his learned humility placed on his ambition. Bobb notes how Washington learned to keep his ambition in line with his commitment to and service of others (57). A very fitting example of this principle is manifest in Washington’s willingness to resign his military commission and enter civilian life. This is a striking action for someone as distinguished and consequential in the forging of the young country (58). Later, as the first president, he welcomed the understated title for a chief executive- “Mr. President” (69). Bobb elegantly expands on this tapestry of humility that was especially exhibited in crucial moments for the nation.   Moreover, he makes the further claim that this practice was beneficial for him and the nation, if for no other reason than that it helped to restrain or check an arrogance that could have been very destructive.

Bobb’s portrait of Washingtonian humility seems to highlight more of its restraining character than an account of how it directly fosters excellence. While there are moments of his story that might suggest the latter, it is not clear that Washington or Bobb makes a case for how the quality of humility itself leads to greater excellence than would a consistent track record for not being arrogant. Suppose Bobb’s Washington advocated – or even embodied – a settled disposition to expect only a moderate share of recognition or opportunity that his record or talent deserves.

Why not think that such a quality would be sufficient to limit the ambition and other acts of aggrandizement that might have compromised the leadership and service of someone like Washington? It is not clear that Bobb’s account of Washingtonian humility explains why humility – either in theory or in practice – is vital for the leadership and personal excellence of someone like Washington. If the main role of humility is to restrain and more wisely calibrate ambition, not to mention the collateral damage of pride, then what does humility add that other restraining qualities such as magnanimity could not offer?

The most promising suggestion along those lines is encapsulated by Washington’s circular to the states on June 24, 1783, where he prays for our citizenry to have disposition for justice and mercy, along with charity and humility. He adds that without a humble imitation of these divine qualities we cannot even hope to be a happy nation (65). This statement beautifully captures the aspiration of the humility thesis, and Bobb aptly includes it. There is much in Washington’s life and thought that echoes the importance of humility. It is also undeniable how important Washington’s role was for a stable and flourishing future for America as a new democracy. But more might be said about the indispensability of humility – even episodic humility – for that personal and public flourishing.

Madison is another great figure that Bobb charmingly introduces through an elegant portrayal of his early years, the educational influence of John Witherspoon during his university years, and a multi-layered account of his magisterial political influence during and after the American founding. One important dimension of Whitherspoon’s influence that permeated Madison’s approach to political life is the critique of Christian magnanimity. Witherspoon and Madison held that the critique of Hume and others (that Christianity had displaced the priority of excellence in the pursuit of meekness, humility and submission to authority) (83) was a confused misconstruing of Christianity. Rather, the endowment given to us as humans by our creator entails a responsibility to give an account of our lives. That is a noble starting point that should both humble us and unleash a desire for the greatest levels of excellence (83). Consequently, the priority of humility need not undercut or be indifferent to the pursuit of human excellence. While this is a compelling statement of the humility thesis or at least a Madisonian appropriation of it, there are other aspects of his political thought – on Bobb’s account – that might attenuate the aspirations of the thesis.

Madison’s pessimistic view of human nature informed his worries about the potential for the state to overreach by arrogantly favoring particular church bodies. Madison’s famous reflection on human nature in Federalist 10 treats the factional propensities in political life as an inherent expression of human nature (90-91). Moreover, one especially problematic aspect of that partisanship for Madison is a religious aggrandizement that bolsters its own. Bobb brings special attention to the Madison’s disagreement with Patrick Henry and others concerning state support for the Anglican Church in Virginia (92). His long-standing critique and work against the religious establishment in Virginia was precisely a stand against the “arrogant pretensions” of the state to control religion (95). Bobb describes Madison’s own humility manifesto that aimed to counter the former in a principled and policy-attentive manner. Bobb says that Madison “appealed for the adoption of three types of humility: 1) intellectual humility that says truth does not need the backing of the state to win; 2) religious humility that says that people cannot be coerced into salvation; and 3) political humility that says the sovereign cannot repeal conscience, so it should not try to do so” (96-97). For Madison, like John Locke, religious belief cannot be positively fostered by the state or public law, as that would amount to something like force (93-94) or interference. Such intrusions are problematic because they run contrary to the nature of a proper movement of the will that is distinctively one’s own. Bobb’s Madison says that, “No one can force you to believe if you do not freely assent to it” (94). While much more could be said about Madison’s understanding of this, Bobb highlights Madison’s manifesto and the problem that it counteracts as a key example of humility in action in policy terms.

But, if this is a core sample of Madisonian humility, then it offers only a modest version of the humility thesis. While a somewhat unusual way to think about humility, it amounts to a policy posture or political ethos that restrains overreaching claims of the powerful, especially the state, towards the citizenry. It is not clear that such restraint, in whatever terms we might frame it, is quite the same as the positive possession of humility. But from Madison’s perspective, such restraints have the effect of restraining some arrogant intrusions. Moreover, such excesses – writ large – would be highly damaging for the nation and undermine the flourishing of it and its citizens. Such restraints might be consistent with humility from a Madisonian standpoint. But other qualities besides humility, such as justice or other qualities that engender caution and modest actions, should be sufficient to avoid that damage. Why not think that prudence and restraint fall short of humility, even if they do belong with humility?

The life, thought and leadership of Abraham Lincoln provides an important and world historical test case of the humility thesis that Bobb presents. While Lincoln’s speeches, writings, and actions all speak to the importance of humility in some form, there is another dimension of his contribution to the thesis that Bobb highlights. Lincoln, by all accounts, came from humble origins and faced considerable setbacks that dogged his rise to leadership (137-138). While humble circumstances – even beyond his upbringing and early opportunities – need not lead to a character state of humility, Bobb suggests that it did help to temper and moderate his high ambitions (128). A central feature of Lincoln’s view of humility is that it “restrains the most tyrannical of the lower passions” (131). Humility anchors the person from impulsive passions that lead to arrogance and other excesses. While Lincoln certainly notes the importance of humility for managing pride (132), he also maintains that it tends to refine and calibrate ambition so that it is directed towards its proper ends (132).

Most strikingly, Bobb’s Lincoln underscores the contribution of humility to political prudence. There have and will always be messy circumstances that complicate decision-making. Moreover, it is commonplace in politics for the contentious and noisy backdrop of political conflict to pressure leaders in their decisions. The more important the decision, the more complicated the circumstances and the more intrusive the political backdrop can be. Clearly, the choices of action available to leaders in those moments can be unduly driven by politics or expedience. A good leader has a good end in view that his relevant virtue disposes him towards. Prudence should then guide that leader to make a choice of action that is a wise means towards that good end. But political expedience is a looming disruption that can short circuit the wise deliberation and judgment of prudence.

Consequently, deliberation becomes dislocated from the goodness of the end in view, and a bad or less good choice is made. Bobb maintains with Lincoln that humility decisively fortifies prudence. Accordingly, it stably guides the deliberation of means towards the good end, despite the fog of political conflict and lure of easy choices.

Lincoln’s approach to humility does echo some of the other accounts of humility presented in this book, treated primarily as a means of checking the excesses of pride and especially ambition.   But there are also other elements of humility that Bobb elucidates that provide a more positive and direct link between humility and flourishing. While the purpose of the book is not to offer an extended discussion of that link in Lincoln’s thought, it suggests another promising thread in the humility thesis. And that promising thread seems to be located right where Bobb takes us in this engaging tour: right at the intersection of political and historical biography, moral psychology, and political-theology. It seems like more could and should be said about the positive role of humility for the flourishing of the city and soul. But Bobb’s very readable, timely and well-informed survey of humility and the American political tradition provides a highly capable guide.   It competently directs the reader through the theoretical texture of humility in western civilization, and then keeps that theoretical backdrop in view as he tests his thesis through a biographically and politically sensitive study of some giants in the American political tradition.

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