Something Higher
- Mike Dickey
- Jul 10, 2025
- 3 min read
"We never fail when we try to do our duty, we always fail when we neglect to do it."
Pondering on this insomnia fogged morning on a thought piece by David Brooks in this morning's Atlantic Monthly.
The title feels a little like click-bait: why, indeed, do so many Americans see DJT, perhaps the most repellant human being ever to hold high office in the history of this country, as not only good, but great?
But rather than going down the road most of us, myself included, might travel--labeling his followers and mentally or morally defective, or both--Brooks steps back temporally, and suggests a broader issue, the loss of what the moral philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre characterized as a "permanent moral order". Like a lot of conservative thinkers, MacIntyre (as described by Brooks) was backwards-looking, but his gaze didn't stop in the falsely idyllic 1950s. Rather, MacIntyre posits that we lost our way in the Enlightenment, when a generation of thinkers repelled by the wars of religion in the previous century turned their back on the communitarian bedrock upon which moral values had rested since Classical Greece. Instead, we would have to find our own way, create our own definitions of what greatness meant in one's moral and ethical life.
That turn of thinking hasn't gone so well. We may stress the autonomy of the individual, but we still live as humans in communities, now untethered by any sort of shared moral foundation or sense of duty to the community at large. So what tools does one bring to a debate over, say, whom one may marry, if there is no shared set of basic values? (and here I should note that by "basic values" I don't mean dogmatism or some scriptural passage. "Gay people should/should not be allowed to marry" describes an outcome in a specific context. A broader debate over where the personal sphere ends and the societal sphere begins with regard to a legally and religiously sanctioned relationship might be closer to the thing). Absent some baseline among us, Brooks observes the tools of choice become coercion and manipulation.
At this point you may chortle that these embody the very essence of MAGA, but actually it's everywhere in our society, from the radicalism of a Trump rally to the strictly enforced political correctness of the Episcopal Church.
The United States should have been better inoculated than other countries against this contagion of moral relativism. "We hold these truths to be self evident" sure sounds like the preface to a statement of moral and ethical principles. But it seems we don't agree on those these days, and in fact our vice president recently stated in comments at a right wing think tank that being an American does not boil down to accepting a set of principles, opting instead for a litmus test based on northern European cultural heritage (irony abounds here) and having had the good fortune of one's parents being born here.
Brooks points to the loss of any sense of duty to one's community as another symptom of the moral crisis of the moment. What does it mean to live a good life? More pleasure, less pain? Kierkegaard would shudder. Accumulation of material wealth and power? Welcome to the Republican Party, Nietzsche edition. Deny yourself, and help others? The Gospels are express in that regard, but too often it becomes an exercise in ego and vanity.
A professional creed, properly followed, might be a good example for a society trying to find its way. In the legal community, we tend generally to make a pretty good living, and the job may carry a certain amount of prestige. But we're sworn to uphold the Constitution, to advance our justice system and the rule of law, to make sure within the limits of advocacy that everyone gets a fair shake when they come through the courthouse door. We don't always live up to that, but the duty to our community forces a measurement of success that looks beyond wins and losses, or the size of one's portfolio.
Rambling now, I guess.
Today I'll cram in a tax lesson, handle a couple scheduled calls, and try to catch up on the moment's paperwork after two days of mediations. A ridiculous amount of work in the queue between now and the end of September. Not hurrying my life along, given the short time remaining, but I have to admit I'll be glad when this vocational season passes.
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