Courage is upheld as a noble virtue—standing up for what one believes in, no matter the cost. Whether looking at Cato desperately fighting against the fall of the Roman Republic or Representative Barbara Lee voting alone in opposition to the war in Afghanistan in 2001, we admire people who speak their virtue at great personal cost. These two individuals believed in their convictions and history has proven them correct. They were being their own witness, as Epictetus instructs.
There is a sense that courage is found in key moments and greatness is found in those who tap into it when the time comes. This often proves true, but the reality for most people is that their acts of courage won’t go down in history like those of Cato or Rep. Lee. Courage will come in the quiet moments of defiance, of choosing virtue over fear.
Courage is not something that is hardwired into us. Rather, evolution has taught us that going with the herd is the way to survive. The characterization of “right” vs. “wrong” came later; before that, it was simply “in” vs. “out.” If you were a member of the in-group, you survived. In order to fulfill the visceral drive to survive, then, the tribal opinion became right, and dissenting opinion was wrong, often resulting in exile from the group.
While modern humans are less dependent on an in-group for physical survival, we still see the prevalence of this tribal thinking through the strong pull of social norms and peer pressure.
Psychologist Solomon Asch demonstrated this in his experimental exploration of conformity— in this study, subjects were tasked with answering simple questions, but would do so publicly in a room of other “participants” who all agreed on an incorrect answer in advance. The study found the subject would intentionally pick the incorrect answer to align with the majority approximately 75% of the time. Even in a purely academic environment with no life-or-death stakes, the evolutionary urge to protect ourselves in a group outweighs our drive to be correct— even when we know the truth for certain.
How can one be courageous, in the face of this understanding? Part of bravery is in recognizing this urge, the allure of group-think. Rep. Lee called it out in her speech on the floor of the House of Representatives:
Our country is in a state of mourning. Some of us must say, ‘Let’s step back for a moment, let’s just pause, just for a minute, and think through the implications of our actions today, so that this does not spiral out of control.
Lee’s defiance earned her countless insults and death threats, but her acute understanding of the processes underpinning human decision making allowed her to rise above and stand firm.
Further, courage is habitual. It is not about mustering all you have for one solitary defining moment. Cato is perhaps most famous for his suicide in defiance of Julius Caesar, but prior to that he led an ascetic life of philosophy, making the nature of goodness and the demonstration of virtue his life’s work. Every day he faced countless decisions as a member of the governing class, and each time he practiced thoughtfulness, wisdom, and courage. Symbolism aside, Cato’s death was not his defining moment of courage, but rather the culmination of countless smaller moments of courage throughout his life.
Hopefully we will never face down the terror that Cato or Rep. Lee faced, but we can learn from their examples. We can make a habit of courage. If we practice choosing the right thing when it is easy, when the stakes are low, we train ourselves to do the same when it is more difficult. Accumulating wisdom and practice in the summer makes the harsh winter that much easier.
Edited by Jeremy Harr and Abigail McKay Cherry
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