Originally published in Utah Business.
I once visited the National Archives in Washington, D.C., with a group of Utah business leaders as guests of Sen. Orrin Hatch. I will never forget the experience. Serving as the senior U.S. senator gives you extraordinary access to the nation’s archival treasures.
At one table I saw the actual handwritten first inaugural of George Washington. It was breathtaking. In it Washington declares, “I was summoned by my country, whose voice I can never hear but with veneration and love.” This was a man who understood love of country.
What I saw and heard at another table has also stuck with me over the years. That table had the actual handwritten radar readings from Pearl Harbor. In the center of the two-foot by three-foot document (it looked like a white poster with polygons in the middle) was the island of Oahu. Drawn in increments of time were lines depicting the incoming squadrons of Japanese aircraft. Those of you familiar with our history will not be surprised to learn the lines stopped about an inch away from Oahu as the radar technicians were called off and told “Don’t worry about it.” A first lieutenant with the Army Air Forces mistakenly assumed the incoming aircraft were a flight of U.S. B-17 bombers expected from the mainland.
Worry about It
Unfortunately, like the radar map from Pearl Harbor, the refrain “Don’t worry about it” is applied far too often to things that are important. I thought of this when I recently read New York Times columnist David Brooks’ new book, The Road to Character. In it, Brooks makes the case that we should spend more time worrying about something he calls “eulogy virtues”—the things talked about at a funeral and that truly capture a person’s character.
Brooks artfully contrasts eulogy virtues with what he calls résumé virtues—the skills brought to the marketplace that depict external achievement. He says we spend too much time on the latter and not enough time on the former.
Brooks is a gifted thinker and writer. He frames up the contrast between the two categories of virtues by describing the times when he meets a person who radiates inner light. He struggles to express what they are like, but points to their goodness, their generosity of spirit, their depth of character and their ability to love deeply. He says rather than asking, “What do I want from life?” these people ask, “What is life asking of me?” These are people who are far along on the road to character.
In Brooks’ view, the road to character has many twists and turns. He says wonderful people are made, not born, and their inner virtue is built incrementally through moral and spiritual accomplishments. He says people with this inner light are highly self-aware and profoundly honest about their weaknesses. They have a mature temperament and rely on others to develop self-mastery. Importantly, they view suffering as part of the process. They must find joy in what Brooks calls “stumbling” and “crooked timber”—an acute awareness of our flaws and the struggle to overcome weaknesses.
Brooks describes a Humility Code of what to live for and how to live. The code has 15 propositions and each gives pause for thought. The Humility Code says, “We don’t live for happiness, we live for holiness” and, “The long road to character begins with an accurate understanding…that we are flawed creatures.” It goes on to point out that humility is the greatest virtue and pride is the central vice.
He says, “You become more disciplined, considerate, and loving through a thousand small acts of self-control, sharing, service, friendship, and refined enjoyment.” He concludes that no person can achieve self-mastery alone. He says, “Everyone needs redemptive assistance from outside.” Character building is a team sport.
There are many options for great summer reading, but I highly recommend Brooks’ latest book. In Brooks’ words, “Many of us are clearer on how to build an external career than on how to build inner character.” When it comes to building character—the great purpose of life—we would be wise to spend less time building a résumé and more time worrying about getting the eulogy virtues right.