The modern world has a very confused idea of virtue.
On the one hand, it expects virtue to be like every other modern technology: cheaply bought, easy to use and share, with quick results.
On the other, it expects the same rewards as any other flashy purchase: that it make us look good to others.
The reality is usually that results are hard won, short-term, and largely ignored by other people. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this leaves the average person fairly disappointed, if not bitter and demoralised. And they are left with a depressing thought:
“Why would anyone even bother trying to be a good person?”
Technopoly
Our tools have helped us conquer three of the greatest barriers to human progress: time, distance, and price.
Yet in a world where technology not only influences but where it dominates, the world becomes a hammer and all it can see is nails.
First of all, speed. Our worship of physical tools spreads so far that we have started to diminish anything too slow as ‘old fashioned’. We mock what seems ‘inefficient’. We roll our eyes at anyone who prefers ‘doing things the old way’ because it slows down the rest of us.
Secondly, the pace of change and the spread of tools depends on our ability to mass produce them and then to share them round the world. In a globalised world, where everything is connected and anything can be communicated instantly over the internet, passing things on seems easy.
Finally, where technology creates a particular bias in our view of virtue is in the way that things are measured.
Progress requires measurable improvement. And when it comes to physical tools, that means a set of numbers, visible in our environment, that are easy to count. And when you can make the right numbers go up, then down comes the price.
Taken together, this techno-obsessed view of the world has created a sense of virtue that is upside-down and inside-out.
Upside-Down
One of the consequences of our tool-ruled society is that we favour only what can be quickly achieved, cheaply scaled, and easily measured.
But personal virtue, the kind of virtue passed down to us for thousands of years, is:
- Expensive (it takes hard work and constant attention to develop)
- Individual (it doesn’t scale well beyond a single person or, at the very least, in-person interaction)
- Hard to measure (the virtuous individual is usually the only one able to notice the results)
Character cannot be mass-produced.
No one becomes wise overnight.
Courage can’t be passed on over the internet.
Integrity cannot be counted on a spreadsheet.
Inside-Out
What adds to the confusion is that virtue actually divides into two types of technology:
- Personal virtue
- Civic virtue
The modern cartoon of virtue is that its rewards should be public.
Changing your profile picture on Instagram. Corporate support for gay pride. Celebrity concern for climate change – tweeted from a private jet.
But ancient virtue was never designed to win applause.
The reward for personal virtue is private. You become wiser and happier. You protect yourself from the harm of excess. Your courage expands your freedom and your life.
Civic virtue is different. Its reward is social, but it isn’t praise – it’s trust.
You put your money where your mouth is. You accept a cost, take a risk or make a sacrifice that demonstrates you mean what you say. The expense is not an unfortunate side effect of virtue. It is what makes the signal credible.
Personal virtue helps you trust yourself.
Civic virtue gives others reason to trust you.
Modernity has not made virtue cheaper. It has simply made the appearance of virtue cheap.
The Technology of Trust
Perhaps our ancestors understood something we have forgotten. Virtue was never supposed to be easy. Its cost was not a flaw in the design, but part of its value.
For thousands of years, human societies faced the same problem we do today. Anyone can claim to be good. Anyone can promise loyalty, profess courage, or declare their commitment to a cause. The harder task is knowing who means it.
So our ancestors found ways to make virtue visible. They built commitment, sacrifice and risk into the fabric of social life. They created shared acts that asked people to prove, not simply proclaim, what they believed.
We still have a word for these ancient technologies.
Rituals.