Let’s say it’s the fall of 2021, and you’re the mother of a 9-year-old daughter and a 6-year-old son who attend public school. Your daughter hasn’t seen most of her classmates’ faces in more than a year, and your son daily complains that the mask is smothering him.
Along with other parents, you attend a meeting of the school board to ask the members to rescind the COVID-19 mask mandates. You speak politely to the board, sharing the research you’ve done on the physical and psychological harm masks inflict on students. You refrain from wild accusations and stand fast when a board member impugns your personal integrity.
Whether you know it or not—and whether you win the argument or not—you’re practicing the four cardinal virtues: prudence, justice, temperance, and courage, also called fortitude. You exercise the first by bringing wisdom and consideration to the table. You seek a just solution to the problem, asking where the greater good is in the wearing of masks. You offer some aspects of temperance—gentleness and humility—in your arguments. And you demonstrate courage merely by appearing before a group of people who may ridicule you for disagreeing with them.
Until recently, Western culture and civilization taught and revered these virtues. From Aristotle and Plutarch all the way up to America’s “McGuffey Readers” and beyond, these were a part of the bedrock of our civilization. Human beings have sometimes failed to practice these virtues, of course, but there they were, beacons of light calling us to the right path.
Today we seem to have lost sight of those directional beams. We’ve also forgotten that all four virtues depend on each other to be effective. For example, if we call for social justice on Facebook without exercising prudence and humility, we risk becoming shrill voices in an accusatory online mob. If we take some courageous stance without considering temperance or justice for all, we damage our arguments and those of other people as well.
We also often overlook the efficacy of the cardinal virtues in our personal lives. When our employer reprimands a member of the staff for an error she didn’t commit, do we stand by in silence or step forward in courage, with the other three virtues fixed to that bravery? Rather than berate our teenage driver for a traffic accident, might we not be better off asking questions and looking for a just solution?
Unfortunately, today’s culture often misunderstands the cardinal virtues. Mention prudence and the image of some easily shocked maiden aunt jumps to mind. Advocate for temperance and your listener will think you a teetotaler. Speak of justice, real justice, and you'll be hooted down as a reactionary. Stick up for your beliefs, and you might be accused of narrowmindedness and obstinacy.
Intended for centuries to be guides to an honorable life, the cardinal virtues seem a whispering ghost these days, seen and heard only by some of us.
In writing that last sentence, I wonder if I’m worthy of that company. In my three-score-and-10 years, how well have I practiced those virtues? Have I made them a part of my days?
If I were marking down a grade on these questions, I would give myself a C. Maybe a C-.
For my younger readers, I wish you greater success. Be that mom who addresses the school board. Be that parent who practices temperance, prudence, and justice. Be that employee who stands up bravely, judiciously, and prudently to the boss.
These virtues, which should be a core part of our lives, exist for one reason alone: to make us better human beings.
