Heroism, The Heroic Life

Why I’m Changing My View of Heroism

Art by Delawer-Omar

Over the past few weeks I’ve written extensively about expanding the definition of heroism. Today I’m going to wrap that up with my conclusions and what this means for my pursuit of the heroic life.

First, a recap. Among hero scholars it’s common to use a very strict definition of heroism: only those who take real personal risk (physical or non-physical) for the sake of others are heroes. But most people use “hero” more broadly. They use it to refer to individuals who go above and beyond in a variety of ways, even if there’s no risk involved. Generally, if someone accomplishes something extraordinary in the pursuit of something we value, we call them a hero.

My point has been that there may be a very good reason we call these people heroes—that their actions really are heroic on some level. For me this is an uncomfortable position. Most of the examples I gave, from artists to pop stars to athletes, don’t seem particularly heroic to me. For years I was in the camp that believes it’s wrong to call these people heroes, that it’s watering down the whole concept of heroism.

What caused me to rethink this was witnessing firsthand the effect that these heroes have. The speakers at the first Hero Round Table concentrated overwhelmingly on deeds that wouldn’t pass my “hero” litmus test, and yet these deeds hit home in a way that I’ve never seen from heroism discussion before. And this seemed to create momentum for many of the people present to want to follow in their footsteps.

And so I set off on the search for another way to define heroism, one that isn’t based just on risk. Instead, I suggested that heroism might be based on taking actions that inspire. There’s no doubt that all of our selfless risk-taking heroes inspire us, but so do lots of other folks. That might explain why we call such a large and diverse group of people heroes.

But just inspirational on its own isn’t good enough (just like not all risky things are heroic). If the old equation was risk + doing good = heroism, then my proposed replacement was heroism = inspiring others + doing good. Specifically you have to inspire others to strive to improve themselves in some way. If an action has that effect, we can call that action heroic.

Responses and Developments

Unsurprisingly, a lot of people seem to like this definition. What was more surprising is that a lot of other people seem to hate it. I always got the impression that being a heroism hardliner, back when I was one, is pretty unpopular; that most people wanted to call quarterbacks heroes and I was the odd one out. But it turns out that a whole lot of people think heroism is a word that should be used very, very selectively and that anything else just waters it down.

The responses from many of these individuals were instructive. They were essentially saying: rock stars don’t seem heroic to me, ergo, there is nothing they do that anyone can rightly call heroic. To put it another way, some people are inspired only by the most extreme acts while others are inspired more easily. This may be why there’s a debate over the meaning of heroism in the first place.

I also got a lot of insight into the other group, the people who like this definition. Their comments show a heavy emphasis on relatability. I don’t think any of them would deny that Martin Luther King, Jr. is a greater hero than, say, their lovable grandfather. Yet both individuals inspire them to strive to be a better person, and the role that their grandfather played in their life is undeniably more intimate. This, to them, makes their grandfather a greater influence on their own ability to act heroically, even if his deeds were far humbler than leading the civil rights movement.

Both of these responses were invaluable. They helped me get a better look at what’s happening when people sling around the h-word, or when they refuse to. But I’ve also begun to second guess whether inspiration is the heart of it at all. I began to wonder if feeling inspired isn’t more a symptom of what’s going on. After all, if heroism is anything that inspires us to strive to be better, what sorts of things inspire us to strive to be better?

Starting Over

If I had to start this whole series over tomorrow, I’d likely focus on values. Each of us has a set of values, some that we all agree on—like justice or selflessness—and others that are more personal, like living healthy or being a good parent. I suspect that the people who inspire us most are the ones who take extraordinary steps in living up to our values. That’s what motivates us to be better people, because such individuals are living proof that being better is possible. It’s where inspiration comes from.

If that’s the case it explains why we all agree on some heroes, like Dr. King, because they represent values we all share. And it also explains why Lady Gaga looks like a hero to some people, while to others she’s stinking up the whole notion of heroism.

Perhaps most importantly, this theory of heroism would suggest that there’s an objective mechanism behind what we call heroism, even though we each choose different people to call heroes.

Recidivism

I don’t think I’ve got heroism all tied up in a nice neat package. The theory I just gave would seem to explain all of the different phenomena we call heroism and what they have in common. But the truth is… I don’t feel it.

The whole reason I chase heroism is because of stories of great sacrifice. In Irish legend, when the hero Cú Chulainn is fighting alone against an entire army, 150 little boys decide they’re going to go help him. Their fathers are sick from a curse, so they take up their hurling sticks and march off to war against men armed with chariots, swords and spears. All the boys die. And the enemy’s advance is halted.

That is the spirit of heroism. From the smallest social risk to risking life itself, heroes traffic in sacrifice. They think less of their own wellbeing than of what they value. That is heroic, at least to me.

But then I have to question myself. I’m not wired any differently than the rest of humanity, and I’m doing the same thing we all do. I’m looking at what inspires me, what lives up to my values, and saying “that there is heroism.” And when you call David Bowie a hero, I don’t feel right about that. But so what? Why should heroism be based on my values, and not yours?

That’s not necessarily an argument to open heroism up. It might simply mean that basing heroism on values isn’t a productive way to go. By far the best objection to my idea came from my friend Ari Kohen, who said this:

…if Lady Gaga is your hero and if the situation ever arises where a stranger’s trapped in a burning car or someone’s fallen onto the subway tracks, you’re more likely to be a bystander than someone who steps up and does the risky thing.

This resonates with me. To me, creating heroism is about creating people who won’t be afraid to speak up. (Or who will be afraid, and speak up anyway.) People who won’t be bystanders. People who will act when no one else will.

I’m not as confident as Ari that Lady Gaga’s example can’t help you with that. Or the example of a charity founder, or your grandpa. The truth is we don’t have a lot of data on what sorts of things prime somebody to be the one who steps forward. But we know a few things that definitely do help prime you, and they all have to do with being aware of others and being able to envision yourself taking action. It’s not clear what role, if any, a celebrity hero can play in that.

So the end result of all these posts is I don’t know. I don’t know if a broader definition of heroism is a good thing because I can’t tell if it helps us make more heroes or not. And I have an inner struggle over whether the definition of heroism I really believe in—the strict, sacrifice-based one—is truly better or if it’s just me pushing my values on people. I’m deeply uncomfortable with that possibility.

For now the quest continues. I’m not going to stand firmly by the new definition I’ve proposed (with apologies to those of you who loved it). Nor can I return firmly to the narrow risk-based definition, at least not without further thought. That there has to be a way to understand this phenomenon we call heroism, and I don’t think we’re nearly there yet. I do suspect it’s connected to extraordinary acts in service of our values, and yet I feel that sacrifice is an important component. Making the two work together is likely my next step.

What does this mean for the heroic life? I don’t think  it changes much. I may not know, on paper, what makes a hero but I know, in my heart, exactly what I must do with my life. I have wandered and my journey has taught me my life purpose. Deeper, I know too what I stand for and what I must do if faced with a bad situation. I must put my ideals before everything else, hold them like a sword, and trust in them. They are the one part of me that can never be destroyed.

Here’s an index of all the posts on inspiration as a force of heroism:

Next time I’ll get back to road logs from my journey.

 

 

 

 

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Heroism

The Moral Component of Inspirational Heroism

Art by Kasia Rosińska

I’m continuing to explore my new ideas about heroism as a force of inspiration. Today I’d like to tackle one of the biggest objections to heroism as inspiration: the moral angle.

So far this has come in two main forms. The first one was presented neatly by longtime reader Phaedra Bonewits:

“I’m not entirely willing to wholesale accept anyone who is idolized is a hero. I might have said ‘he’s my hero!’ about many a pop star in my youth, but I simply can’t see that celebrity fascination, even if it has inspirational components, as enough to make anyone an actual hero.”

I think this is a common reaction. How is Lady Gaga a hero? How is Freddie Mercury a hero? These kinds of stars don’t teach us how to save lives.

But this is where the power of inspiration takes on a very personal nature. For Phaedra, her teen idols obviously didn’t inspire such a personal transformation that she’s willing to consider them heroes. But to someone else, they may have.

We don’t get to tell anyone who does or does not inspire them to be better people. This is a personal choice. To me, Freddie Mercury is just some singer who was in Queen maybe? But to someone else his struggle with AIDS may be pivotal. It may make them contemplate how much he accomplished in a short life and whether their own life will measure up. It may even make them strive to accomplish more than they otherwise would have.

We don’t have to pretend for a moment that every celebrity is a hero, nor do I have to treat someone as heroic because you were inspired by them. But we should understand that any time an individual achieves something beyond what most of us achieve, it has the potential to move others to do the same—and this is a glimmer of heroism.

The second version is more direct. Another reader, Ken, wrote in part:

“Using your definition as is, you could come up with heroes according to the selectors’ values who were accomplished, dedicated, and effective terrorists, wealthy and ruthless corporate raiders…”

In other words, what about individuals who inspire people to do bad things? Are they “heroes” now too?

Definitely not. Not every influential person is making the world a better place, and not all of them are heroes. Let me put my definition out there again for clarity:

A hero is someone who inspires others to strive to be better people.

There are two parts to that definition. They don’t just inspire, they inspire us to become better people. Or at least to try.

This rules out a lot of types of inspiration. If a violent dictator inspires a group of extremists to become terrorists, that dictator fails the heroism test. And if a shock-value entertainer inspires 14 year old boys to act like twits, they fail the hero test too. You might be famous (or infamous) enough to have followers, but that doesn’t make you a hero.

This can easily lead to a discussion of what counts as being a “better person.” (Which, in fairness to Ken, was what he was really driving at with the full text of his comment.) I’m intentionally not addressing that, for a few reasons:

  • Most people like to say it’s all subjective. I disagree with that and I don’t enjoy having this argument.
  • I think it’s fair to leave it up to individual readers to decide what constitutes becoming a better person. I doubt any of my readers are terrorists or criminals, and I trust you guys to use your own judgment.
  • Becoming a better person doesn’t strictly speaking mean becoming a more moral person. It can also mean personal development writ large. For example, if a hip hop artist inspires my daughter to get serious about her love of singing, that’s a positive development and a form of inspiration heroism.

Without getting into theories of ethics, suffice it to say that there are certain behaviors we all recognize as wrong and others that have been agreed upon broadly, even in international law, as never acceptable. These include acts that are dehumanizing, acts of unusual cruelty, unprovoked violence and attacking civilians or non-combatants in order to make a political point or score a military victory. No one who commits these acts is heroic, ever. And no one who inspired them gets hero points for doing so.

The seemingly simple act of inspiring someone can be heroic, but only if the inspiration brings about momentum toward positive change. When somebody does that it almost always seems heroic to those affected, and we ought to acknowledge and accept that kind of heroism.

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